Chapter 11
Mia woke to sunlight streaming through windows and the solid warmth of Slade’s body behind her. His arm was locked around her waist, holding her close even in sleep.
Christmas morning.
She’d woken up in Slade Carter’s bed on Christmas morning.
Her body ached in the best way. Evidence of last night, of Slade’s thorough claiming, of the way he’d worshipped every inch of her.
She felt cherished. Wanted. Completely his.
But in the morning light, doubt crept in. What if last night was just intensity? What if when the newness wore off, he realized she wasn’t worth the trouble?
Behind her, Slade stirred. His arm tightened, pulling her back against him. “Stop thinking so loud.”
She laughed despite herself. “How do you know I’m thinking?”
“I can feel you tensing.” His lips found her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just—” She bit her lip. “What if this doesn’t last?”
He rolled her over to face him, his eyes fierce even with sleep still in them. “This isn’t some fling, Mia. This is two years of wanting you. This is me claiming you. This is forever. Understand?”
“Forever is a long time.”
“Not long enough.” He kissed her, morning breath and all. “You’re stuck with me now.”
She relaxed into him, choosing to believe. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay.” She smiled. “I’m yours. Forever.”
“Damn right you are.”
He proved it in the shower. Then again in the kitchen while coffee brewed. By the time they were dressed—her in his flannel shirt that hit her mid-thigh—Mia was thoroughly convinced of his commitment.
The sound of a truck made them both look up. Slade checked his phone. “Ben and Jamie. I texted him this morning. Told him you were here.”
Mia’s nerves kicked in. “What if Jamie thinks it’s weird? Or Ben doesn’t approve?”
“They’ll love you.” Slade pulled her close. “Jamie already does. And Ben’s been telling me to find someone for years.”
The door burst open, and Jamie ran in, stopping short when he saw Mia in Slade’s shirt. “Miss Brooks! You’re really here! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Ben followed, carrying a bag of gifts and trying to hide his smile. “Merry Christmas.”
“Mia’s my girlfriend,” Slade said, his arm around her waist. “My real girlfriend. She’s staying.”
Ben’s smile broke free. “Good. About time.”
Jamie hugged Mia’s waist. “Does this mean you’ll come visit more? Can you help me with my art projects?”
“Yes to both,” Mia promised, ruffling his hair.
Christmas morning was everything Mia had never known she wanted. Opening presents around Slade’s tree. Watching Jamie’s excitement over his gifts. Ben’s easy acceptance of her presence. Slade’s hand constantly finding hers, as if to reassure himself she was real.
This was family. This was belonging. This was home.
After breakfast, while Jamie played with his new toys and Ben talked with Slade about farm business, Mia checked her phone.
A text from Tessa. Thank you for being an amazing MOH! Beautiful wedding! Hope you and Slade are surviving the storm!
Mia stared at it. The old her would have written a long, apologetic, over-explaining response. Would have made sure Tessa knew she wasn’t upset, that everything was fine, that she was happy for them.
Instead she wrote: Thanks. It was lovely. Merry Christmas!
Short. Polite. Boundaried.
Then she put her phone away and returned to the present moment.
After Ben and Jamie left—with promises to do this again soon—Slade pulled Mia into his workshop.
“I have something for you.”
He handed her a small carved box. She opened it to find a key inside. Not a house key. Something more ornate. Hand-carved with intricate designs.
“It’s beautiful.” She lifted it out. “What’s it for?”
“Here. The cabin. This is yours now.” His hands covered hers. “I’m not asking you to move in tomorrow. I know you have your job, your students, your life. But I want you to know you have a place here. With me. Always.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Slade—”
“When you’re ready—next month, next year, whenever—this is your home. Our home.” His eyes were intense. “I’m in this for forever, Mia. I’m building a life with you.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I choose you too. I choose this. I choose us.”
“Good.” He held her tight. “Because I’m keeping you.”
That night, wrapped in his arms in his bed, Mia felt something settle deep in her chest. This wasn’t just the excitement of something new. This wasn’t just physical attraction or the thrill of being wanted.
This was real. This was right. This was home.
She’d gone to that wedding expecting to survive. To grit her teeth and get through it and move on with her life.
Instead she’d found everything she never knew she was looking for.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” Slade murmured against her hair.
“Best Christmas ever,” she whispered back.
And she meant it.