Chapter 28
NATALIE
T he bed-and-breakfast glowed like a Christmas Eve dream.
The wedding was over. Paige and Levi had been sent off in a flurry of sparklers and champagne-fueled whooping, disappearing into the snowy night like a story that knew exactly how it should end.
And now, just a handful of us were left—stray groomsmen, and tipsy cousins still half buttoned into their formalwear—humming with leftover champagne and sentiment, crammed into the parlor for the last tradition of the night.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting light over the mismatched armchairs draped in plaid throws.
Garlands of pine and holly framed the windows, and fairy lights twinkled from the beams overhead.
In the corner stood the tree—massive, unapologetically extra, dripping in ornaments from every era.
Some sparkled, some leaned a little to the left, and at least three looked like they’d been made by sticky-fingered toddlers with glitter vendettas. But somehow, it worked. It all worked.
The mug was warm in my hands as I stood near the fire, heart thudding quietly in my chest. People laughed around me. Someone spilled something. MeMaw was still holding court in the armchair like the Queen of Christmas Chaos .
And I was just…waiting.
Not for a sign. Not for clarity.
Just for five uninterrupted minutes with Easton.
Because I was already all in.
And I was done letting timing get in the way of telling him.
Across the room, Easton stood near the tree, talking to my cousin Jake, his hand curled around a glass of whiskey.
He laughed at something, his head tipping back, and the sound sent a flutter through me—because I could picture it echoing through a future kitchen, or beside a summer campfire, or Milan… because, you know, he was a movie star.
But really? Anywhere we ended up together.
I could see it.
So clearly, it almost hurt.
He was beautiful. Not just in the movie-star way that made heads turn, but in the way he was . Steady. Loyal. Kind. Mine.
He looked up suddenly, like he’d felt me watching, and our eyes locked across the room. My breath hitched. He smiled, just slightly, and my heart answered in kind.
Shit. I was so fucking in love with him.
Before I could respond, Margaret clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention.
“All right, everyone!” she called, her voice bright and enthusiastic.
“It’s time for our Christmas Eve tradition!
We’re going to write our wishes on these paper stars and hang them on the tree.
It’s a little bit of holiday magic to bring good luck for the new year.
Grab a star and a pen, and let’s get started. ”
People began to shuffle toward the little table set up by the fire, already laughing and teasing as they picked through pens and glittered paper stars.
I set my mug down on the mantel, fingers tingling with nerves and something steadier. I knew what I wanted.
Easton was already there, his brow furrowed as he wrote something carefully onto his star. He looked so focused, so sure, it made my chest ache in the best way .
“Go on, girl,” MeMaw said as she passed by, giving me a knowing nudge with her elbow. “Wish for what you really want. And none of that vague ‘peace on Earth’ crap.”
I snorted. “You’re terrifying.”
She winked, the reindeer ears on her glasses bouncing as she moved toward the snack table.
I grabbed a star and a pen, my fingers steady now. No second-guessing. No overthinking.
I wrote one sentence.
To never lose him again .
The wish felt raw, vulnerable, like I was laying my heart bare for the universe to see, but it was the truth.
I folded the star carefully and moved to the tree, hanging it near the top, where the light caught the gold just right.
The moment I turned, he was there.
Easton.
Watching me with that soft, steady look like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He glanced at my star. “What’d you wish for?”
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” I said, my lips curving.
“You really believe that?”
“I believe in hedging my bets.”
He grinned, then leaned past me and tied his own star to the branch right beside mine. Our wishes spun slowly together, dancing in the twinkle of the tree lights, as though they were already bound by fate.
“What about you?” I teased, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Want to share yours?”
Easton smiled, softer this time, his eyes lingering on mine just a second too long. “Maybe later.”
I bit my lip, smiling helplessly as I watched him.
Eventually the evening wound down. Guests began to drift toward their rooms, murmuring soft goodnights and Merry Christmases. Easton touched my elbow lightly as I started toward the staircase, drawing my attention back to him .
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down my spine. “Want to walk together?”
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. “Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”
We climbed the stairs slowly, quietly, in comfortable silence, shoulders occasionally brushing. My heart raced, caught in the tension between wanting to say something—anything—and wanting to just enjoy the quiet closeness.
Then Easton paused by the door that led out into the courtyard. He glanced through the frosted glass, then looked back at me with a mischievous grin.
“Come outside with me.”
“It’s freezing out there.”
“I’ll keep you warm.”
I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t fight my own smile as I followed him into the snowy courtyard. The moment we stepped outside, the chill hit me, crisp and sharp, but the air smelled fresh, like clean snow and possibility.
Easton took my hand without hesitation, and we walked slowly down the winding stone path, snow crunching softly beneath our feet. Overhead, a thousand stars glittered faintly through the soft haze of frost, quiet sentinels to our private moment.
I happened to glance through a window into the bed-and-breakfast, and almost fell on my face when I saw MeMaw air-humping as she watched us leave.
That was an image I’d never be able to get rid of.
“Natalie?”
I turned to face him, my breath stuttering for a moment because nowhere in the history of the world had such a pretty man existed.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
He turned to face me fully, pulling me gently to a stop in front of him. His eyes glowed warm beneath the frost beading his lashes, his gaze so tender it stole my breath.
“To tell you my wish,” he murmured.
My pulse quickened, my voice barely a whisper. “Yeah?”
He nodded slowly, eyes steady on mine. “I wished to spend every Christmas with you.”
The words landed softly, melting through me like snowflakes against my skin. I exhaled shakily, smiling despite the way my heart felt dangerously close to cracking open.
“That’s a big wish,” I teased softly, even as my throat tightened. “You sure about that?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He stepped closer, reaching up to brush a fleck of ice from my cheek, his thumb lingering, warm and gentle against my skin. “Every Christmas. Every day in between. I want it all with you, Trouble.”
My eyes stung, emotion swelling suddenly…fiercely. “Easton…”
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, his voice thick and raw, eyes locked intently on mine. “And I never will.”
My heart stumbled, the truth so raw, so real, it felt like a gift, perfectly wrapped and placed right in my hands.
“I love you, too,” I whispered. “I just got a little lost for a while. But it was always you.”
His eyes widened slightly, something wild and bright breaking across his face.
“Say it again,” he breathed.
“I love you,” I repeated softly, tears clinging stubbornly to my lashes. “I always have.”
Easton cupped my face in both his hands, thumbs tracing softly along my jawline. His lips curved into a soft smile—aching, raw, impossibly beautiful—and he drew me in slowly, as if we had all the time in the world.
Snow glittered on the ground around us, catching the soft, golden glow from the windows, painting the courtyard in a dreamlike haze. The stars above shone clear and bright, as if they, too, held their breath, watching this moment unfold .
But when Easton kissed me, the world disappeared.
There was no lodge, no snow, no noise…just him. Just us . The kiss deepened gently, with all the emotion we’d been holding inside. Every missed chance, every unspoken word, every sleepless night and whispered dream condensed into the space between our lips.
When we finally pulled apart, breath mingling in the cold night air, he pressed his forehead to mine, eyes closed like he was holding on to the moment with both hands.
“I’ve loved you for half my life,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m going to love you for all the rest of it.”
The words hit something deep. Something old and aching and sacred.
“Promise?” I whispered, not because I didn’t believe him—but because once, under a sky full of invented constellations and teenage bravado, we’d made that same vow. Said we’d find each other, no matter what.
His eyes softened, something flickering behind them—memory, emotion, the weight of everything we’d been.
“Still do,” he said quietly. “Always will.”
A laugh broke from me, wet and quiet. “You said you’d come back to me.”
He stepped closer, brushing his fingers along my jaw, reverent. “And you said you’d find me. No matter what.”
I nodded, tears catching in the corners of my eyes as I whispered the only thing that felt true enough.
“I love you.”
“Forever,” he said, pulling me in, his voice fierce and full. “Every sky. Every season. Every version of us.”
And when he kissed me, I felt the stars shift.
Our star. Our promise.
Finally found again.