Epilogue
QUINTON
Twelve months later . . . Christmas Morning.
Sleigh bells jingle as Maise chatters away to Caleb up on the driver’s bench seat. This year, she’s taken sleigh rides up a notch, insisting on being co-pilot. Co-driver?
Hell, I’m not complaining. I have a beautiful woman by my side, her head resting on my shoulder. Her smiles have been mine for twelve months, along with her soft touches and loving ways and words that have made the last year incredible. And I have a plan to make sure Maise and I get to keep her.
Hank has been doing so great in his new setting.
The first two months were an adjustment, but he settled in, and his condition has been a little better.
CC visits twice a week after her classes at the elementary school.
After painting the backdrops for last year’s Christmas play, she was commissioned to run mixed media classes for the school.
And that studio of her mom’s? Well, I may have gone a little nuts with the renovation on that one . . .
“You’re quiet, Quinnie,” Celeste says softly, each syllable brushing past the shell of my ear as she looks up.
“Just thinking, baby.”
“Yeah, what about?” She glances to Maise, who is still talking to Caleb like he’s the one getting the rundown on Nickel’s new harness and how to guide a sleigh over the fields Caleb grew up on.
“Nothing much, just errands.”
“What errands do you have to run on Christmas Day, MacKelvie?” She raises one elegant eyebrow. Still calls me by my last name when she’s being a sassy woman.
I chuckle. “You’ll see.”
“Hmmm. What are you up to?” Her eyes narrow and she sits up. I slide my arm around her shoulders, dotting a kiss to her temple.
Wouldn’t you like to know, baby.
The sleigh ride is over ten minutes later, and Maise refuses to leave Nickel.
“Can I stay here today, Daddy? Please?”
She’s hopping on the spot, her mittened hands pressed together like she’s praying. Some things never change.
“It’s up to Caleb, kiddo,” I say.
Caleb’s gaze swings between the three of us. “Sure. I could use the help.” He winks as Maise gives me the ‘told you’ look with a tilt of her head.
“Alright, but I’ll be back to collect you for lunch.”
“Yay!” She climbs back up into the sleigh, settling in like she owns it.
“You two enjoy your morning,” Caleb says with a shit-eating grin.
CC rolls her eyes and hooks her arm through mine.
“Bye, Daddy! Bye, CC!” Maise waves from the sleigh as we make it back to my truck. I wave back, opening CC’s door, and she climbs on in. I’m around the front of the truck and in the driver’s side when she says, “What will we do with hours of free time?”
“You are going to paint. And I’m running those errands.”
“You’re serious? You have errands on Christmas Day?”
I tamp down the smile that wants out all over my face. “Sure do.”
“Well, we have guests, so the painting will have to wait a hot minute.”
Pulling into the driveway, I kill the engine and hop out, crunching through the snow to CC’s door. She slips out, and I catch her by the hips, claiming her mouth with mine.
It’s cold out, and she shivers as I part the seam of her lips with my tongue. Our warm breath clouds between us. CC pulls away, dotting a kiss to my jawline before she tracks through the snow to her childhood home, now the Grafton B&B.
After her brother and sister went to great lengths to have Hank deemed no longer mentally capable of making legal decisions, they tried to take the house out from under Celeste.
Figures . . . Only, it was already gifted to Celeste in both Trisha and Hank’s wills.
Apparently, after finding out that little titbit, they were too busy to contest it.
Not gonna lie, was a little happy about that plot twist for my girl.
With the inn always overrun during the holidays and the small-town charm always attracting tourists and folks wanting a quiet place to relax and recharge, we turned Hank’s house into a five-bedroom bed and breakfast.
The sign that hangs over the porch swings in the gentle breeze as the love of my damn life steps up the front door and waltzes in.
Warmth in my core grows in my center as a smile stretches my face.
It’s amazing what a difference twelve months can make.
Two strangers moving to a quaint little town, neighbors who became friends . . . eventually.
And now, Celeste is—
A cold squall steals my train of thought, sending my hands into my back pockets and my feet up the steps to our house.
Maise was beside herself the day CC moved in.
I’ve never seen her so damn excited. I push through the door and into the house.
The warmth of the fireplace envelops me as I shrug my coat from my shoulders and hang it on the hook by the door.
I have one task to get done before Christmas lunch and then presents.
Every year, Maise is too impatient to wait until lunch, but this year, she’s been suspiciously quiet. In fact, I spotted a few random gifts under the tree that neither CC nor I bought.
My girl has a big heart, that’s for sure.
I take the steps two at a time and swing around the banister, heading for my room. Inside, I hunt through the sock drawer for the last item on this year’s Christmas list.