Chapter 17 Haven
Haven
We breeze through Thanksgiving, and suddenly it’s December, and we’ve been here a month.
Valentine Nook has become so familiar to me that it’s hard to believe I barely knew of its existence before we arrived. Claudia in The Beanery has my coffee order ready the moment she sees me coming past the store. Eddie waves at me like I’m a regular in his bar and have been for years.
Everyone knows me because they know Alex, and they’re sweet and kind because of it.
They ask about Everly. I’ve been given multiple hand-knit hats and mittens, as well as one Christmas sweater featuring a penguin. I grew up in a small town, so I’m fully aware it doesn’t always work like that, but it does here, because everyone loves Alex.
I feel as at home here as I do in Aspen, and that’s saying something. I miss it, and we’re still speaking to Saylor every day, but I don’t miss it like I thought I would.
But I thought I’d be here five days, and we’re into our second month.
It could well be down to Everly being half English that I feel this way, and why I’ve been making every effort to immerse myself in the English culture, but I know Alex has more to do with it.
The effort he puts in to make sure the two of us are happy and content has taken getting used to.
Ceding control, when it’s what’s kept me going over the past few years and only intensified when Everly came along.
No one tells you about the instincts you develop when you have a child.
That, above all else, you are solely responsible for protecting this tiny creature and keeping it alive.
It’s what led me here to this funny little village. It’s what led me back to Alex.
And I know that if anything happens to me, or between us, Everly will be absolutely fine.
With that knowledge comes reassurance and the ability to relax.
It took me a couple of days to figure it out, but the overwhelming anxiety I’ve been waking up with since I found out I was pregnant has gone.
We’re right at the beginning of a new journey, and while I have no idea where it’ll lead, I want to find out.
Everly is happy, and just from the way she looks at Alex, I think my daughter has found the love of her life.
And for him, every time we’re stopped in the village, or grabbing coffee in The Beanery or having lunch in the pub and someone approaches us, the pride he wears when he answers questions about Everly is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
It hits me right in the chest every single time.
When Alex and I first met, there was no doubt he was hot. A super fucking hot, rich English vacationer, the epitome of the Aspen clientele. Then he was funny and super fucking hot, and the more we talked, he became sweet and super fucking hot.
While he’s still all those things, he’s so much more. You barely have to scratch the surface to also see how kind, loving, and supportive he is.
Not to mention respectful. Frustratingly respectful.
We’ve done nothing but kiss since our middle-of-the-night liaison in the kitchen.
Kiss and kiss and kiss.
But every time it feels like we’re about to pass first base, hands creeping under my shirt, inching toward my bra, Alex pulls back. And when the day is done, he walks me to my bedroom door and leaves me with a good night. It’s sweet, and sexy, and goddamn frustrating.
I get it. It’s weird dating someone you live with, not to mention have a kid with, but I’m unwittingly taking part in the world’s longest edging session, and I need it to be over.
Even now, with his big hand resting on my upper thigh as we drive over to Burlington, all I want to do is shuffle down in my seat so his fingers are firmly positioned between my legs.
It’s a testament to how impressive the wreaths are that they are being hung on the giant Burlington Hall entrance gates that my focus shifts from the back of his hand.
It’s taking five guys and one cherry picker to lower the first one into place. The other is laid on the back of a truck.
They must be at least ten feet wide each, tastefully decorated with holly and eucalyptus, dotted with small red berries, and finished with an enormous red bow.
I’ve never made anything that big in my store. I don’t even know how I would go about it. It wouldn’t fit through the door, for one.
“Holy shit.”
He nods. “My mother likes to go all out. Just wait.”
His eyes focus back on the driveway, and as we make our way along, I notice the pressure of his fingers dig a little deeper into my thighs. His hand around the steering wheel is even tighter. It’s exactly how I look like when Saylor drags me to the roller coaster at the Adventure Park.
I fucking hate roller coasters. And I realize how selfish I am.
I haven’t noticed how quiet he’s been because all I’m thinking about is sex.
“Alex, pull over for a second.”
“What?”
“Stop the car.”
His brows drop, and his eyes flick to mine in concern, but he hits the brakes and cuts the engine. “What’s wrong?”
Swiveling in my seat, I turn to him, searching his face for any sign that he doesn’t want to be here. That he’s only doing this for me. But all I see is his blue eyes staring at me, wondering what the hell I’m doing.
“When did you last decorate the tree?”
His cheeks puff, his shoulders drop like he’s been caught in a lie, and when his eyes find something out of the window to focus on instead of me, they fill.
His voice is quiet, hollow almost when he replies, “I was ten. The year before my dad died.”
My gasp is soft, but he hears it. I just hope he can’t hear my heart breaking for him too.
“I want to do this. For me, too. I need to do it.”
Turning his face back to mine, Alex’s stubble scratches under my palm. “Any time you want to go, say the word, and we go. Deal?”
“Haven—”
“I’m not kidding, Alex. The moment it gets too much, you tell me, and we’ll leave.”
His head moves until his lips line up with my palm, and he kisses it. “Thank you.”
When he starts the engine again, his shoulders aren’t so tight, and the color’s returned to his knuckles.
The wreaths on the gate should have prepared me for what was in store. So should the workmen carrying ladders into the house, and after parking and taking Everly out of her car seat, we follow one in.
At my first whiff of pine needles my excitement builds. It’s a direct correlation to Alex’s trepidation, and I try my hardest to keep it buttoned down, but then we walk through the front doors to find a hive of activity.
My parents’ ranch—my ranch—Wylder Ranch supplies the trees for the cabins and hotels in the Aspen area.
And they like them big, because Aspen is big.
It’s flashy as shit, and the tourists who come for the holidays live by the ethos that bigger is better.
I’ve seen plenty of tall trees decorated for the holidays.
But I’ve never seen a tree like the one I’m staring at. It’s got to be thirty foot, easy. Fifteen feet round at the base.
Now I understand why all the furniture was being moved out.
Placed directly in the middle of the hall, it’s so big that there are ladders positioned on either side.
Two men, standing on scaffolding level with the top, are securing it with ropes that hook them into the wooden beams running across the roof.
Based on the two pairs of boots sticking out from under the boughs, another two guys are securing the base.
A housekeeper is vacuuming the needles that have dropped on the move, and another directs a couple of younger boys, both carrying heavy-looking boxes. A third is laying out rows and rows of twinkling lights.
This isn’t just tree decorating. It’s an event run with military precision. It’s going to take us all day, my fists ball at the prospect. I want to jump in the air and pump them, but I don’t.
No wonder Alex is freaked out.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, turning to Alex and Everly, and spot a pair of Nutcrackers standing in the corner that I’d recognize anywhere. “Hey, those are from my store. You bought them last year.”
He spins around. “Yes, Hendricks brought them back for Max.”
“Where are th—” I begin before the sound of a fire truck blares from the hallway to the left, and Max zips in, closely missing one of the younger boys bringing in more boxes.
Hendricks, close behind, apologizes to the box carrier and shouts, “Max, watch where you’re going.”
“Sorry,” Max yells in reply, screeching to a halt in front of us. “Is that my cousin?”
Alex nods. “It is.”
“Is she decorating the tree too?”
“We all are.”
I’m smiling at Max, but Hendricks is looking at Alex. He’s wearing an expression akin to pride, and when he pulls Alex into a hug, his eyes turn watery. It’s similar to the reaction Miles has, followed by Clemmie.
It’s clear that Alex being here to decorate the tree isn’t just a big deal for Alex, but it’s a big deal for everyone else.
A flurry of activity precedes the arrival of their mom, the vacuuming stops, the workers disappear, and a fire is lit in the enormous stone fireplace.
“Granny,” Max yells, announcing her entrance, and holding his hand out for her to take, drags her over to the long tables by the window.
After he’s shown her whatever he wanted to show her, he drags her back over to where we’re all standing. Her eyes immediately fall onto Everly.
“Hello, darling,” she coos, holding her hands out to take her. “May I?”
I’m still unsure what to make of Alex’s mom.
We’ve met half a dozen times, and aside from the day of the paternity test, she’s always been perfectly lovely.
But it’s clear she’s a lady of stature, and a force to be reckoned with.
You only have to look at the five children she raised after her husband died to see that.
And as much as I hate to admit it, she’s intimidating.
But when I see her with Max and Everly, all I see is someone who dearly loves being a grandma.