Chapter 32
The sun was already down by the time we drove through town later that afternoon, headed toward Copper Ridge.
Ty’s ranch was nestled in the Gore Range, same as Lori’s, but on the opposite side of town.
A long driveway led to a small farmhouse first, then a red barn, then Ty’s property at the back.
Green-and-red wreaths hung from the fence posts, topped with snow, making everything look like a winter wonderland.
“Look, Leena! Do you see the llama?” Shannon pointed at the animal standing along the fence line.
“Does he only have one eye?” I asked, glancing at my wife.
Shannon bit back a grin. “I mean, his name is Uno for a reason. And might be the least creative name Ty and Junie have come up with for this little misfit farm. Uno has nothing on Piggie Smalls and Cluck Norris.”
I smiled at the name choices, then parked next to several other cars crowding the long driveway. Shannon climbed out and opened Leena’s door to unbuckle her, breath fogging in the cold air.
She’d changed before we left, trading her usual tees for a black cardigan with a white skeleton rib cage stretched across the front with a tiny red heart in shimmering thread over her chest. I wasn’t sure why this classified as Christmas attire, but Shannon had seemed pleased with herself when she put it on, so who was I to question it?
My daughter wore a red dress with fur on the hem and sleeves. We had a momentary outfit malfunction trying to balance the long sleeve with Leena’s temporary cast, but Shannon had snipped the fabric above her elbow, making it so she was both comfortable and adorable.
Leena reached for me so I could carry her inside, and I planted a kiss on her cheek. “Ready?”
Shannon put her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. “Last chance to back out. Once the women hear this is real now, they’re going to be insufferable.”
I lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I can take it.”
We walked up the driveway, snow crunching under our boots, the music getting louder the closer we got to the house. But before we made it to the porch, Shannon pulled me to a stop and hid behind a truck.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
Shannon held her finger up to shush me, peeking around the tailgate. “No idea, but that doesn’t look like your typical Mason proposed and Tate rejected him, does it?”
I looked over her shoulder, spying Mason and Tate standing under a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the porch beam.
Mason’s head was tilted down, one hand braced on the railing, the other gesturing in a way that looked far more serious than Beckett’s younger brother typically was.
Tate stood there, arms crossed tight over her chest, but didn’t back away.
Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t small talk.
Shannon leaned farther around the truck, gearing up for another round of eavesdropping, when a voice came from behind us.
“What are we staring at?”
We both jumped. Beckett stood there in a flannel and jeans with a case of soda in his hands, a half-smile already forming.
Shannon tugged him down, then pointed at the porch, whispering, “Did he propose again? That seems weird, right?”
Beckett followed our line of sight, then squinted at his brother. “Hmm. How about I go ask?”
He walked straight up the front steps before Shannon could stop him. “Under the mistletoe? How romantic.”
Tate leaped back from Mason so fast, I was sure Shannon was onto something. That was pure guilty instinct, and Mason’s jaw flexed once before he schooled his face into his usual playful smile.
“Oh,” Shannon whispered, following Beckett to the porch. “Something’s definitely going on.”
Tate spotted us then and came down the steps.
“Shannon, hey!” She wrapped Shannon in a stiff hug that did nothing to dispel my wife’s suspicions. “I’m so glad you guys came.”
Over Tate’s shoulder I caught Shannon’s face—eyes wide, brows up, the full what is happening right now look aimed straight at me. I ducked my chin, hiding my laugh.
Once Tate let her go, Shannon said, “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” Tate’s smile was too bright. “Just catching up.”
Mason dragged a hand through his hair, looking exasperated. “Go inside. There’s more food than anyone here knows what to do with.”
Beckett squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “You good, man?”
Mason opened the front door for us. “Yeah, buddy. All good.”
Chaos hit us like a warm wave the moment we walked inside.
A black-and-white potbelly pig shot past our legs, little hooves skittering on the hardwood while Junie and two boys I was pretty sure belonged to Stevie chased right behind her.
Bringing up the rear was Rowdy, Ty’s three-legged black lab mix, herding the whole circus with the weary patience of a professional.
I shifted Leena higher on my hip, looking back out at the porch. “That was definitely weird.”
Shannon was already scanning the room, eyes sharp when she patted me on the chest. “Glad you’re invested too. I’ll report back with the tea later.”
Leena wiggled out of my hold, then took Shannon’s outstretched hand, following her into the kitchen where Lori and the rest of Shannon’s friends sat.
I went into the living room, joining Beckett, Ty, and Stevie’s husband, Luke instead.
I took one of the empty chairs across from the couch. “This place is great.1”
Ty’s farmhouse was pure mountain rustic—open living room and kitchen under exposed beams, Christmas lights strung along the rafters, a tree in the corner so loaded with handmade ornaments it looked like it might tip over.
“Thanks,” Ty said, adjusting the toddler on his lap that looked a few months younger than Leena, currently gnawing on a drooly fist.
“A lot different than this time last year, yeah?” Beckett raised his Topo Chico in a salute.
“Louder, that’s for sure.”
I grinned, taking one of the drinks Luke handed my way.
Shannon’s friends all got up from the table when she and Leena walked over, a round of hugs my wife willingly accepted telling me how much she’d missed them.
“Oh,” Daisy cooed, tugging on the hem of Shannon’s cardigan. “The Grinch. Your heart grew three sizes, huh?”
Shannon looked my way with a smirk. “Something like that, yeah.”
Each of the women wore a Christmas sweater, one more hideous than the next.
Emmy had a reindeer on hers, the nose lighting up every time she moved.
Stevie’s had a snowman stitched across the front, except it was covered in so much glitter, she left a trail everywhere she walked.
Daisy’s was the worst though—a giant felt Santa face with googly eyes that swung independently, reminding me of a deranged hockey mascot.
Shannon pointed at Emmy’s sweater. “Did this come with a seizure warning? My god, that’s intense.”
“Please.” Emmy gestured at Stevie’s sweater. “She looks like Frosty the Snowman puked on her. She wins.”
“But neither of you can compete with this.” Daisy shimmied her chest, the googly-eyed Santa going cross-eyed for a moment, and the women doubled over with laughter.
“Leena’s the real winner.” Lori waved at my daughter from her seat at the table. “You can’t walk in here this cute and steal the show, sweetheart. It’s rude to be that adorable.”
Leena didn’t smile back, shooting everyone a deadpan expression.
“Dang,” Stevie said, looking up at my wife. “She looks like you.”
Daisy snorted, hiding her laugh behind a Diet Coke.
Shannon rolled her eyes, but smiled when Stevie’s daughter walked toward her. “Leena, this is Harper. Harper, meet Leena. And look!” She tugged on Harper’s dress—the same one Leena had on. “You match!”
Harper looked at them both, then held out a toy dinosaur for Leena. “Play?”
Shannon sat down on the floor, and the two toddlers each settled in her lap.
“Well, that’s adorable,” Luke said, clinking his beer against my soda.
“Are they always like that?”
Beckett laughed. “One time I interrupted girls’ night to see them all wearing differing levels of obscene t-shirts. This is tame by comparison.”
“I think Daisy’s left eyeball is looking at me,” Luke said. “It’s like the Mona Lisa, following me around the room.”
“She left it out on the dresser last night,” Ty said. “Nightmare fuel.”
I chuckled, brushing a hand over my mouth while the guys settled into small talk. The Mayhem kids were all downstairs in the arcade from the sound of the distant beeps and laughter, so the living room was relatively calm.
Beckett gestured toward the baby. “You guys still thinking about adopting Kai?”
Ty shook his head. “This is actually Kai’s last week with us. He’s going back to live with family.”
None of us said anything for a minute, the weight of his life as a foster parent hitting somewhere deep in my chest.
“That’s hard,” I said.
“Imagining these kids without anyone to love them is harder than letting him go.” Ty’s voice stayed even, but his thumb brushed over Kai’s tiny shoulder. “Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. Otherwise, how the hell do I keep doing this?”
I looked around the room—the lights, the noise from the kitchen, the pig probably still on the loose somewhere, my wife laughing with her friends, my daughter safe at her side.
This wasn’t how I’d ever pictured retirement. Not even close. But sitting here, snow outside and family inside…
I wanted this someday.
Beckett pointed at me. “I know that look. Do you see that look, Ty?”
Ty smirked, one side of his mouth tipping up under his mustache. “He’s not ready yet.”
“Someday.” Beckett sat back, crossing his feet on the coffee table, his eyes still on me. “When you’re ready to hang up the skates for good, we’ll find you a spot here.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Appreciate it.”
The TV was turned to the afternoon football game, so conversation switched to sports—fantasy football standings, the Mayhem’s roster this year, and, of course, the expansion draft.
As much as I didn’t want to leave Denver, I wasn’t as worried about it now that I knew Shannon was all in. Everything seemed less scary with her at my side.
“Hey,” Jace said when he came up the basement steps a little while later. “Has anyone seen Mason? He promised he’d play air hockey with me, and I’m sick of losing to Molly.”
I looked toward the kitchen, then the foyer.
No Mason.
No Tate either.
“Did they ever come back inside?” I asked.
Beckett spun around to look at the women. “Have any of you seen Mason or Tate?”
“No,” Shannon said, brows pulled together. She lifted Leena off her lap and headed for the front door. “Are they still outside? I swear, something weird was—”
Her words cut off when she opened the front door.
Instead of Mason and Tate, two men stood outside on the porch.
“Not going to invite us in, sis?”