Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Bash
I've been staring at the same snow-covered pine trees for twenty minutes. Our rental SUV crawls along the winding mountain road, each mile feeling longer than the last.
"Almost there," Richard announces from the driver's seat, the same thing he's said three times in the last hour.
I shift in the backseat, my knee stiffening from sitting too long. Between the 5 AM wake-up after another restless night, the five-hour delay at the airport while they cleared Aspen's runways, and now this crawling drive through fresh powder, I'm beyond done.
"You okay?" Charlie whispers beside me, her shoulder pressed against mine.
"Just ready to stand upright again," I murmur back, flexing my toes inside my boots. "My body wasn't built for sitting this long."
She smiles, a soft smile. "Former pro athlete problems?"
"Something like that."
My phone buzzes with a text.
Survive the flight?
Ty
Barely. Now trapped in car purgatory.
At least you're trapped with her. Progress.
Ty
I roll my eyes and pocket my phone as Margaret turns around from the passenger seat.
"The Harper cabin should be just beyond the next bend. We're about five minutes away from ours."
Charlie tenses beside me, her fingers fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve. The Harpers. Ethan. Right.
I slide my hand over hers, stilling her nervous movement. "Are you okay?" I mimic her question back to her, my voice low enough that only she can hear.
"Perfect," she replies, the word clipped. "Just peachy."
Emily leans forward from her seat behind us. "Mom, did Mrs. Patricia mention if they've already arrived?"
"They got in yesterday," Margaret says.
Charlie's hand flips under mine, her fingers interlacing with my own. A silent request for support that feels anything but fake. I squeeze gently.
"There they are!" Richard announces as we round the bend.
Through the windshield, I spot a ritzy mountain retreat that looks like it belongs on a holiday card.
The Harper cabin is all weathered timber and stone, impossibly grand with soaring windows and a wraparound deck.
Wreaths hang from every window—not simple pine circles but elaborate creations with velvet ribbons and glittering ornaments that catch the afternoon sun.
The driveway is already cleared of snow, and icicle lights dangle perfectly from the eaves.
A couple stands on the wraparound porch—a trim man with dark hair and a blonde woman, both waving enthusiastically as we pass by.
"The infamous Ethan," Emily murmurs, and I feel Charlie's grip tighten.
"And Olivia," she adds, voice flat.
"You're prettier." I lean over and whisper.
She turns to me with a surprised laugh. "You haven't even seen her up close."
"Don't need to."
"And here we are!" Richard announces as we pull onto a secluded road winding up through a stand of towering pines. "Home sweet home for the next week."
The SUV rounds a final curve, and I'm impressed by what comes into view. I've stayed in some impressive places during my pro days, but this is something else entirely.
"Holy shit," I whisper under my breath.
She grins. "The Whitaker-Harper annual Christmas extravaganza doesn't mess around."
The house sits proudly on the mountainside, three stories of natural wood and stone that looks both rustic and luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominate the front, and a massive stone chimney stretches upward from a wraparound porch dusted with fresh snow.
"It's been in the family for years," Charlie explains quietly. "My parents have renovated it bit by bit. Used to be a normal-sized cabin once upon a time."
"Nothing normal-sized about it now," I say, gaping as Richard pulls into the circular driveway.
We pile out and the air hits my lungs, crisp and pine-scented, immediately transporting me back to my childhood. I'd forgotten how much I missed the mountains.
I grab our bags from the trunk while Charlie hangs back, her breath forming small clouds in front of her face.
"Ready for this?" I ask, slinging my duffel over my shoulder and extending the handle of her rolling suitcase.
She takes a deep breath. "No. But let's do it anyway."
I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. Not for show—her parents are busy unlocking the front door, and Emily's distracted by her phone. I did it just because she looks like she needs it.
"Remember, I'm the one who should be nervous here," I say. "Meeting the ex while pretending to be the new boyfriend? That's high-stakes acting."
Her lips quirk up. "Trust me, you'll be fine. Just flash those baby blues and everyone will forget I exist."
"Not possible," I say, and mean it.
We trudge through ankle-deep snow toward the front porch steps.
The front door swings open to reveal a Christmas wonderland that puts every holiday catalog to shame.
Rich pine and cinnamon scents envelop us as we step into a grand foyer with soaring ceilings and exposed wooden beams. A massive wreath adorned with pinecones, red berries, and a simple burlap bow hangs on the inside of the door.
I let out a long low whistle.
Charlie gives me a subtle nudge. "Mom goes a little overboard with Christmas decorations; she has a company come out and decorate before we arrive."
"A little?" I whisper back. "This looks like Santa's personal vacation home."
Elegant garlands wind up the curved staircase to our right, each adorned with twinkling white lights and sprigs of holly. The banister itself is wrapped in lush greenery interwoven with ribbons and more lights. Whoever decorated clearly has both taste and patience.
Margaret appears beside us, beaming with pride. "Sebastian, let me show you around.” She takes my arm. “Richard and I have been coming here for Christmas since before the girls were born, my great, great grandfather built this home and throughout the generations we've added to it bit by bit."
She leads us through to the great room where the true centerpiece of the holiday decor commands attention.
A magnificent twenty-foot pine Christmas tree dominates the space, stretching nearly to the cathedral ceiling.
It sparkles with hundreds of white lights and an assortment of ornaments that I can tell are a mix of elegant crystal pieces and handmade treasures from childhood.
"Every ornament has a story," Charlie murmurs close to my ear, as if reading my thoughts. "Half are embarrassing school projects."
I spot what looks like a popsicle stick frame with a gap-toothed Charlie inside and grin. "I'm going to need the story behind each one."
The rest of the great room continues the tasteful holiday theme.
The massive stone fireplace is already crackling with a freshly built fire, its mantel decorated with more greenery, vintage glass ornaments, and delicate fairy lights.
White candles of various heights sit among the arrangement, waiting to be lit.
Plush couches and chairs arranged around the fireplace look impossibly inviting after our travel day. Each has been dressed for the season with soft throw blankets in deep reds and greens, and pillows embroidered with subtle holiday motifs.
Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the entire back wall, showcasing a spectacular view of snow-covered mountains and pines. Someone has artfully arranged more greenery along the window frames, making it feel like the outdoors is simply an extension of this magical space.
Margaret claps her hands together. "Alright, everyone. Patricia texted me that they'll be here in about an hour for dinner, they're letting us get settled in first and I've already placed the order for the food."
Charlie tenses beside me at the mention of the Harpers again. I place my hand at the small of her back, a gesture that's becoming second nature despite being part of our act.
"Charlotte you'll have the Pine Room this year," Margaret announced. "And Sebastian will be with you, of course. It has beautiful natural lighting," she adds, then pauses. "That's alright, isn't it? I didn't even think to ask. We could always..."
"It's fine, Mom," Charlie interrupts quickly.
"Totally fine," I echo, giving what I hope is a convincing smile.
"Perfect!" Margaret beams. "Emily, you're in the Snowflake room across the hall. Your father and I will take the main suite on the first floor. Now everyone go settle in—dinner's at seven!"
I hoist my duffel onto my shoulder, falling into step beside Charlie as we climb the grand staircase.
My fingers slide along the cool wrought-iron railing, tracing its intricate swirls while our boots sink into each carpeted step.
Landscape photographs line the upstairs hallway.
Frozen mountain scenes and sunset vistas that capture my gaze as we make our way down the plush runner.
Charlie freezes at a door at the end of the hallway. "The Pine Room," she murmurs.
She pushes it open, and I step inside behind her.
My breath catches, a low whistle escaping my lips again.
The room sprawls before us, more luxury suite than bedroom.
A king-sized bed commands the center, buried under what must be the world's plushest comforter and a small mountain of pillows.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across one wall, bathing everything in golden afternoon light, with a private balcony visible through the glass.
Soft sage green coats the walls, the color playing against natural wood trim.
Tasteful paintings of pine forests and mountain landscapes hang at perfect intervals, completing the upscale woodland retreat vibe.
"Wow," I say, dropping my duffle on a bench at the foot of the bed. "This is..."
"Yup." Charlie sets her suitcase beside a spacious dresser. "Wait till you see the bathroom."