Chapter 59
SYLVIE
Iwoke up wrapped in warmth and contentment, sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and Kent’s arm draped across my waist. For a moment, I lay perfectly still, afraid that moving might shatter whatever dream I’d fallen into.
This was what life was all about. He was the dream I had always been afraid to allow myself to have.
The steady rhythm of his breathing against my neck was real. The weight of his body beside mine was real. The tender soreness that reminded me of everything we’d shared the night before was very, very real.
And so good.
Kent came back for me. He’d professed his love for me. He’d told me he would stay and live here on the farm with me.
Was I really this lucky?
I turned carefully in his arms, not wanting to wake him.
I studied his sleeping face. In the morning light, he looked younger.
Almost innocent. The messy hair and stubble were cute.
His expression was relaxed. His lashes were darker than I’d realized.
And thicker. Jerk. That was so not fair.
There was the faintest suggestion of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Like even in sleep, he was happy.
The thought made my heart flutter with joy and disbelief that this was actually happening. That this beautiful, complicated man had chosen me and this life. He was really willing to upend everything he’d ever known for the chance to build something together.
“Good morning,” Kent murmured without opening his eyes, his voice rough with sleep and impossibly sexy.
“How did you know I was awake?” I asked.
“Your breathing changed.” He cracked one eye open and smiled at me. “Plus, you’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “I was not staring.”
“Mmm.” He pulled me closer, nuzzling into the curve of my neck. “What would you call it then?”
“Admiring,” I said, then immediately felt ridiculous for the admission.
Kent’s laugh rumbled against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “Admire away. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hungry?” I asked.
“I know what I’d like to feast on for breakfast,” he said with a grin. “And lunch. Dinner. Dessert.”
My cheeks burned. “Stop.”
“Yes, I’m hungry,” he said. “Missed dinner.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re not expected to take care of me, but if you want to feed me breakfast, I would love you.”
“Wait, I thought you already did love me? Are you saying it’s conditional?”
He pretended to think about it. “I guess I’m going to love you as long as I can before I die from starvation.”
I giggled and pushed at him. “Drama queen.”
I rolled out of bed and started coffee, happy to find I had breakfast basics. Usually, I would eat at the lodge, but I wanted to keep him all to myself.
I texted Stacy and let her know I would be sleeping in.
She replied with chili peppers.
She had no idea.
Kent insisted on helping me make breakfast, though his idea of helping mostly involved distracting me with wandering hands and murmured compliments about how beautiful I looked in the morning light.
My kitchen was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, which meant every movement brought us into contact.
When I reached for the eggs, Kent’s chest pressed against my back.
When he moved to get coffee mugs, his hand brushed mine.
When I tried to flip the pancakes, he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzled my ear.
“You’re going to make me burn breakfast,” I protested, though I made no effort to escape his embrace.
“Worth it,” he murmured against my neck, his lips finding that spot that made my knees weak.
I leaned back against him, marveling at how perfectly we fit together, how natural this felt despite everything we’d been through. “Kent.”
“Mmm?” His hands slipped under the hem of my pajama top, his palms warm against my skin.
“The pancakes.”
“Can wait,” he said, turning me in his arms and lifting me onto the small counter with surprising ease.
I was about to point out that we had work to do, but then Kent stepped between my legs and kissed me with the kind of hunger that made all rational thought impossible.
His hands tangled in my hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his tongue, teeth, and lips ran over the column of my throat. I gasped and felt him smile against me.
“I love that sound,” he said, his voice low and rough.
We probably would have ruined the pancakes if the smell of burning hadn’t finally penetrated the haze of desire clouding my brain.
“Breakfast,” I managed, pushing weakly at his chest.
Kent groaned but stepped back, allowing me to slide off the counter and rescue what was left of our meal. The pancakes were a little crispy around the edges, but edible. Sitting across from each other at my tiny dining table felt like the most perfect morning of my life.
After breakfast, we bundled up and headed out to work the tree farm together.
It was definitely the coldest day of the year so far.
But working alongside Kent made even the brutal cold feel manageable.
He helped customers select trees, learned to operate the netting machine without getting pine needles everywhere, and charmed every family who stopped by with his unexpected knowledge of Fraser fir care and his willingness to haul trees to cars regardless of the weather.
Throughout the morning, we had a steady stream of visitors who brought warmth in more ways than one. There were so many fresh-baked goods I felt like I was going to go into a sugar coma.
“Well, well, well,” Ozzo said when he showed up to work. “Look what the cat dragged back.”
“Good morning to you too, Ozzo,” I said, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
“Sylvie’s boyfriend is back in town,” Ozzo announced to no one in particular. “And from the looks of it, they’ve been having quite the reunion.”
“Shut up,” I said, but I was smiling despite myself.
Kent, to his credit, seemed to find Ozzo’s teasing amusing rather than annoying. “Good to see you again,” he said, extending a hand.
The highlight of the morning was watching Wesley in full Santa mode, with Emmy playing his enthusiastic elf assistant.
Kids followed Santa everywhere, a parade of bright winter coats and excited chatter. They helped him “inspect” trees for Christmas worthiness, assisted with the official candy cane distribution, and peppered him with questions about reindeer and the North Pole that he answered seriously.
Watching the pure joy on the children’s faces reminded me why I loved this place so much. This was what we were fighting to preserve, not just a business but a piece of magic that brought out the best in people.
Kent seemed to understand it too. I caught him watching the Santa show with the kind of wonder usually reserved for children. When a little girl asked if he believed in Christmas magic, he knelt down to her level. “Absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the most powerful magic there is.”
As the afternoon wore on and the temperature continued to drop, we finally decided to call it a day. Most of our remaining inventory had been claimed.
“I should get ready for dinner,” I said as we headed back toward the lodge. “My family’s Christmas dinner starts at six, and I still need to shower and find something to wear.”
“Need help getting ready?” Kent asked, his tone casual but his eyes dancing with mischief.
I laughed, bumping his shoulder with mine. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s not a no.”
Back in my apartment, I headed for the shower while Kent made himself comfortable on my bed, propping himself up against the pillows like he belonged there.
When I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I found him lounging with his hands behind his head, watching me with a delicious smirk on his lips.
“Don’t,” I said, pointing a warning finger at him. “We don’t have time.”
“Time for what?” he asked innocently, though his eyes were anything but innocent as they tracked my movement across the room.
I knew what it felt like to be a deer in a wolf’s cage. The man looked downright ravenous.
I tried to ignore the way his gaze made my skin feel like it was on fire as I rummaged through my closet for something appropriate for Christmas dinner with my family.
The red sweater dress would be festive but might be too obvious.
The green cashmere would be elegant but potentially too formal for a family dinner.
The cream-colored blouse with dark jeans would be safe but maybe too casual for such an important evening.
“The red dress,” Kent said from the bed.
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion,” I said, though I pulled the red dress out for another look.
“You were thinking very loudly,” he said. “The red dress. Definitely the red dress.”
I held it up against myself, checking the mirror. It was pretty, a soft sweater dress that hit just above my knees and had the kind of neckline that was sophisticated without being scandalous.
“Why the red dress?”
Kent’s smirk deepened. “Because you look incredible in red. And because it’ll drive me crazy all evening knowing how good you look under it.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I felt a thrill of feminine power at the hunger in his voice. “In that case,” I said, dropping my towel with deliberate casualness, “definitely the red dress.”
I heard Kent’s sharp intake of breath and felt his eyes on me as I moved around the room, taking my time getting dressed. I pulled on my panties, slowly sliding them up my legs before putting on my bra. The way he watched me intoxicated me, like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
I’d never felt beautiful like this before. Not just pretty or attractive but genuinely, powerfully beautiful.
When I finally turned to face him, fully dressed and ready for dinner, Kent was looking at me like I’d just stepped out of his most elaborate fantasy.
“Perfect,” he said.
“For dinner with my family?” I asked, smoothing the dress over my hips.
“For everything,” he said, sitting up and reaching for me.
“Absolutely perfect.”
I let him pull me down for one more kiss before I had to leave. I marveled at how much my life had changed in just twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning I’d been resigned to losing everything I loved.
Maybe Christmas miracles were real after all.