Chapter 31 - Piper
THIRTY-ONE
PIPER
As December wore on, my appreciation of Lovers Peak only grew. The town glittered with lights and decorations, and the already friendly residents became even cheerier. Holiday spirit twinkled from shop windows and crackled from every fireplace.
Work at the lodge was frenzied, with the staircase coming together two days after I received the last of the upholstered banquettes from Eric Nash.
We’d actually pulled it off—the lodge would be able to open before the end of the year.
As I inspected my vision come to life, I couldn’t quite resist the urge to reach over and squeeze Rhett’s hand.
“We’ll be able to open next week, once the final inspections are done,” he said. “People will be able to spend their Christmas holidays here.” He met my gaze as we stood in front of the giant windows showing people zigzagging down the ski hill. “You did it, Piper.”
It was hard to resist the urge to throw my arms around Rhett’s neck. I curled my hands into fists and settled for a wide smile. “We did it,” I said.
Rhett tilted his head toward the plaid-upholstered armchair that we now referred to as Grandpa’s chair. “That thing’s growing on me,” he admitted. “I get the vision now.”
I laughed, heart light, and scurried away to head back to the office before I did something silly like kiss him in front of all our coworkers or tell him I was in love with him.
The boys came home from school with homemade Christmas ornaments, which prompted me to take them out Christmas tree shopping.
We’d always had artificial trees, until now. The three of us stood in a field on the edge of town with our chosen tree leaning against the car, a length of rope dangling from my hands. The smell of pine needles filled me with excitement to rival my sons’.
“Go to the other side, boys. I’ll toss the rope over and you pass it through the back window.”
Nate took off at a sprint. He’d gotten his cast off at the beginning of the month, and his arm seemed to have healed just fine. He’d insisted on keeping the two halves of the fiberglass cast with the rest of his things, since it was covered in his classmates’ Sharpie doodles.
I heaved the tree onto the roof of my old car, yelping as the trunk came sliding halfway down the windshield. Scrambling up onto the hood, I caught the trunk before it hit the glass.
That was how Rhett found me: crouching on top of my car with the end of our Christmas tree clutched against my chest.
“Need a hand?” he drawled.
“I think I’m good, actually,” I replied, heaving the tree backward so the end of it was clear of the windshield.
I beamed at him and began to laugh as pine needles sprayed all around the car and all over me.
I spat half a dozen of them out, turned around, and slid down the hood on my butt.
Only stumbling slightly, I stood before picking up the rope I’d dropped in my haste to save my car from trunk-related damage.
Rhett’s eyes glittered, and his lips curled into an amused grin.
“Go help the boys,” I commanded, blood fizzing with delight. I hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. I couldn’t wait to put this tree up in our new house and see it glittering beside the fireplace.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, disappearing around the other side of the car.
I took my position, counted down from three, and launched the tangle of rope over the tree while clinging onto the end of it.
“Got it!” Alec cried.
Ducking down, I met my son’s gaze through the back seat. “Loop it through the window and toss it over.”
He gave me the type of smile that made being a mom the best job in the world, then fired the rope across the back seat. I caught it with a laugh and did it all over again. Rhett snatched the rope out of the air this time, then handed it to Nate, who tossed it through the seats once more.
When the tree was wrapped, I considered the two ends of rope. Rhett joined me on my side of the car.
“How are your knot-tying skills?” I asked.
“I moonlight as a sailor,” he replied, taking the rope from me.
“Of course you do,” I answered with a laugh, watching him tie the rope and then tug at the tree to make sure it was secure. That’s when we realized the boys wouldn’t be able to get in; we’d had to close the back doors to feed the rope through.
Nate and Alec squealed and laughed as they climbed in through the front seat, and I felt Rhett’s keen eyes on my butt while I leaned over to help them clip themselves in.
Huffing as I climbed out, I laughed at the wiggle of Rhett’s eyebrows.
We lifted the back windows as much as we could with the rope in the way, then stepped back.
“You could have called me,” Rhett said quietly as I surveyed our work, tugging at the bindings and the branches to make sure I wouldn’t cause an accident on the drive home. “It’d be easier to get the tree over to your place in the back of the truck.”
The air was bitterly cold, the wind piercing my jacket. I looked up at Rhett as our breaths gusted out in puffs of white, and I smiled. “I never thought of that.”
Out of sight of the boys, Rhett squeezed my hand. “Start thinking about it, then,” he chided. “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore.”
“Why, Rhett Baldwin. Are you asking me to be your girlfriend? All official and everything?” I said it as a joke, my eyes sliding away from him as I turned to tug at the rope again, but his silence made me glance over and meet his gaze again.
“Yes,” he replied.
My heart cartwheeled. “Oh.”
As his lips kicked up at the corners, he stepped closer. “I think you’ve been the woman for me since the moment you chewed me out for ordering a blueberry muffin, Darling,” he murmured, his eyes warm. “And definitely since you took a drill to the office walls.”
“I chewed you out for cutting in line,” I corrected, and he laughed.
“So?” Rhett prompted.
“Mom!” Nate screamed as his window whirred down. “Are we going? I want to decorate the tree!”
“Two minutes, honey,” I said, and he lifted the window back up again. I turned to Rhett. “Your timing could use some work,” I noted, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “What are we going to tell everyone at work?”
Rhett opened his mouth, but Alec’s voice interrupted him. “Mom!” my youngest screamed. “Nate says he’s going to turn the lights on when we decorate the tree, but he did it last year! You said it would be my turn!”
How my six-year-old remembered these things, I would never know. “It is your turn,” I said. “We’ll decorate it together, and then you can plug them in.” I turned to Rhett. “I have to go, or a war will start back there. Come over for dinner?”
“I’d love to,” he said, just as someone called his name.
Rhett turned, and I saw one of the women who ran the Christmas tree market moving toward us with a red volunteer vest dangling in her hands.
“Gotta go,” he said, and there was a slight pause as we both hesitated.
There were people all around, and we hadn’t exactly been open about our relationship.
I thought he might lean in and kiss me, but I could feel the boys’ gazes on my back like two pairs of laser beams. I didn’t want that to be the way I told them I was dating someone, so I gave Rhett a big smile and ducked into the car. “Dinner at six thirty!” I said, and closed the door.
He nodded, waited for me to drive away, and then walked toward the volunteer who had called his name.
I watched him don the red volunteer’s vest in my rearview mirror and turned in the direction of home.
The windows made an uncomfortable whomp-whomp-whomp noise as I got on the freeway that bisected the town, but the boys laughed excitedly and pointed at the tree branches visible from their seats.
I could feel the way the wind hit the car and the tree, and I clung to the steering wheel a little tighter, making a mental note to thank Rhett once more for the winter tires he’d organized for my old car.
We slowed as we entered the heart of town, and I took the turn onto Lovers Lane. We climbed the winding road, the tree scraping against the roof of the car with every turn. The boys were in heaven. I laughed, thankful that I didn’t have to rely on my own knots to keep the tree in place.
Finally, we made it home. And it was home—truly.
The little house with the pitched roof greeted us, surrounding pine trees waving in the winter wind, the driveway I’d cleared this morning dusted with a fine layer of snow.
Rhett and I hadn’t managed to paint the front door yet, but the new curtains framed the living room window, and a glimpse of the fireplace inside gave the place a welcoming feel.
I could stay here, I realized. Rhett had as much as promised it. I could make a real home for myself and the boys, finally stop spinning my wheels—and just stop. Settle. Rest.
I’d won half a house, but Rhett had gifted me a home. I wondered if he knew just how much it meant to me and the boys.
Old worries tried to well up inside me—worries that spoke of giving a man power over my employment, my housing, my life. Jacob had cornered me, maliciously or not, and made sure he had the leverage to keep me where it was most convenient for him.
Rhett was still my boss, and he owned half this house. Could I trust him?
I wanted to. I wanted to trust the man who’d driven us to the hospital in the middle of a battle over this house. The man who donated time and money to the town he loved. The man who saved a stray cat, even when the cat annoyed the hell out of him. The man I’d already fallen in love with.
Our first impression had been rocky. I’d thought he was pretending to be good, that it was all an act. Now, I knew I’d been wrong.
It was only my own scars that gave me pause and stopped me from fully enjoying my new reality. How good would it feel to finally heal? What if I could live in this home, watch the boys grow up, and pursue all the dreams I’d resigned myself to leaving behind?
I’d gotten that business certificate; what if I took the leap and started my own company?
I parked the car in the driveway and clicked the garage fob that I’d clipped to the visor. “We’ll bring the tree in through the front door,” I told the boys.
“Will it fit?” Alec asked.
I reached for my purse in the passenger seat and eyed the porch. “I hope so.”
The boys cackled, and I smiled as I glanced at my phone. Frowning at the four missed calls from Jacob, I tuned out the boys’ chatter and unlocked the screen.
I navigated to my voicemail and pinned the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I got out of the car and started loosening the sailor-worthy knots Rhett had made in the rope. Wind bit at my neck and cheeks, ruffling the speaker as I listened.
“Hey, Piper,” Jacob said in my ear. “Got some unexpected time off at work, and I thought I’d surprise the boys for the weekend. I just got to the hotel—”
The voicemail was overlaid with another voice—one coming from the bottom of the driveway. “Piper!”
Time slowed. I turned, facing the wind that blew my hair free of my face, and I saw my ex-husband exiting a gleaming luxury SUV.
He lifted a leather-gloved hand to wave at me, a broad smile on his face.
He wore a jacket that was way too thin for the weather, and he shivered dramatically.
The knot came loose in my hands just as I lifted my head.
My phone went tumbling to the concrete driveway, my ex-husband’s message becoming faint and unintelligible as the screen shattered.
Both back doors flew open. “Dad!” Nate and Alec screamed.
Jacob laughed and crouched down, spreading his arms wide.
My sons went sprinting down the snow-sprinkled driveway and crashed against their father, who lifted them both up in a giant bear hug.
Between their heads, his eyes met mine. He flashed me another winning smile as my stomach knotted with dread.
“Dad! Mom won a house! We have Hot Wheels blankets!” Alec took his father’s hand as soon as his feet were back on the ground, tugging Jacob toward me.
My ex-husband approached, but I remained glued to the spot on the driveway, chilled to the bone by the wind and his presence. He bent over and picked up my shattered phone where it had landed by the back wheel of my car. Handing it over to me, he gave me a half smile. “Surprise!”