Chapter 19 Leap at Midnight
LEAP AT MIDNIGHT
LILAH AND HOLDEN
Lilah
With under an hour to midnight on New Year’s Eve, Ridley and I scrubbed the last of the countertops until stainless steel gleamed under the lights. The kitchen was spotless, stocked, ready for the biggest day of our lives. My feet throbbed. My heart was another matter entirely.
“We’re ready for tomorrow,” Ridley said, pride lighting her face. “Now go on, Chef. Get out of here before you fall over.”
I tugged her into a quick hug. “You’ve been incredible, Ridley. We make a good team. Go get some rest—you’re going to need it.”
She laughed. “I’m meeting my boyfriend at midnight, but yes. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for opening day.” She cocked her head. “What about you? Any plans?”
My mind betrayed me instantly, floating away to firelight, Holden’s mouth brushing mine, a promise made in the quiet glow of our last night in the Library. But I’d shattered that promise myself.
“No,” I replied softly. “Have a good night.”
We parted, and the moment I stepped into the hallway, it felt like shrugging out of armor I’d worn all day. Voices drifted from the West Bar. Piano notes tangled with conversation. Someone in the lobby started a countdown far too early.
New Year’s Eve always found me alone. Tonight, the tradition felt heavier than ever.
Crossing the lobby toward the elevators, my eyes kept scanning the space, hope flickering against my will that I’d spot Holden.
Ridley said she’d delivered the dinner to him in his office. I never got a text. Not even a simple thank you or acknowledgment at all.
Maybe he was avoiding me too. If so, I deserved it.
Exhaustion dragged at my limbs as I headed for my suite, already imagining the weight of blankets and blessed silence in my bed. When I opened the door, I froze.
A massive arrangement of roses dominated the entry table—deep red, lush, extravagant. Their scent filled the room, rich and overwhelming, like spring crashing headfirst into winter.
“Oh my God…”
I barely breathed as I stepped closer, fingers trembling when I reached for the card tucked against the vase.
Lilah,
There’s one rose for every hour we spent together since Christmas Eve.
Every hour I’ll never forget.
If you leave me, we’ll never know what might have been.
But if you stay…?
And yes—I got the interview killed.
—Holden
My vision blurred. Tears spilled hot and fast, no stopping them.
He counted the hours. Who did that? A man who didn’t see me as a liability. A man who didn’t flinch at headlines or whispers of reputations. A man who once told me ‘You’re the only woman on my mountain I see.’
“Oh, Holden.” I clutched the card to my chest as sobs broke free. I thought I’d pushed him away. I thought I’d ended this. And yet—there were truffles. My parents visited. Roses. The interview—gone. Why was he still showing up for me?
‘You’re the only woman on my mountain I see.’
My gaze flicked to the clock. Minutes to midnight, clarity hit sharp and certain. I knew exactly where I needed to be when the year turned—not alone, not hiding or running away, not pretending this week hadn’t unraveled me.
I bolted for the door. The elevator crept toward the lobby at a maddening pace, my nerves a mess with every floor. Once there, I rushed through corridors, searching every familiar corner.
The restaurant and the kitchen were empty. The library had sadly been stripped bare, cots and blankets gone, twinkle lights removed like it had all been a dream.
Back in the lobby, I stopped anyone who looked remotely helpful and asked, “Have you seen Holden?”
“Just missed him.”
“Try the bar.”
“He might have gone night skiing.”
“He was eating earlier.”
“I saw him with Mack.”
Someone pressed a chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses into my hands. “For your celebration, Chef.”
The West Bar pulsed with noise and laughter. When I asked the bartender if he’d seen Holden, he shook his head with no idea where the founder of Snow Quest had disappeared to.
Hope slipped, fragile and fraying, as the minutes bled away.
“Hold up, ma’am.”
I turned to find three men at the bar with dark hair, broad shoulders, and easy confidence. I knew their type, probably wealthy like the men I’d cooked for on yachts fresh out of culinary school.
“I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re looking for our brother,” the one on the left said.
I blinked. “Holden? Yes.”
“I’m Atlas.” He gestured to the others. “Beck and Landon.”
Beck twirled the end of his mustache. “He texted us on Christmas Eve. Said he met a woman. He called her Snowzilla.”
Heat rushed up my neck.
Landon laughed. “Pretty sure that was a compliment.”
“My name’s Lilah,” I said. “Did he mention me?”
A glance passed between them like silent, brotherly communication.
Atlas shrugged. “He expected to meet someone tonight. Called her Frosty.”
“That is me.” Hope surged. “Where is he?”
“Now hold on.” Beck studied me for a beat. “He didn’t look like tonight was going to happen. He left here disappointed. How do we know you’re not going to break his heart?”
How sweet, these guys sticking up for their sibling. “If I can find him, I’ll make sure something happens tonight.” I lifted the champagne in proof.
“Well, hell, you’ll find him in his suite.” Atlas smoldered, similarly to Holden’s.
“Save him from the saddest New Year’s sulk imaginable,” Landon called.
“I’ll do my best,” I breathed.
The elevator ride up rattled every nerve. What if I was too late? What if I’d already broken something I couldn’t fix?
At his door, I knocked before courage deserted me. It opened. Holden stood barefoot in gray sweats and a T-shirt, hair damp, eyes tired and blinking at me like I was figure of his imagination.
“Lilah?”
“I told you I’d be your first kiss at midnight. I’m here to keep my promise… if you still want me.”
His mouth parted. Speechless at first. Then his smile curved, smoldering, stealing my breath.
He stepped aside. When I crossed the threshold, I knew this was the leap—toward him, not away. Midnight loomed, the year about to turn over, and for the first time in a long while, I was choosing to stay.
Holden
Want her? My body answered before my pride could. Yes. Hell yes.
After she ended it, I’d told myself I could be mature about it.
Respect her choice. Give her space. Keep the lodge going for opening day.
But “mature” turned out to be a fancy word for white-knuckling my way through every hour without walking into that kitchen and begging her to take back every word she’d said about leaving.
So I threw myself into operations. Fixed what I could. Stayed out of her orbit. If I saw her, I’d crack. And if I cracked… I’d beg for something she’d already decided she couldn’t give.
Now she stood in my doorway like a holiday miracle I didn’t deserve—cheeks flushed, eyes bright with nerves, holding champagne like she’d come to celebrate.
So did I want her? Hell yes.
She set the bottle down with careful hands, then turned to face me like she was bracing for impact.
The TV in the room blared the countdown.
10… 9… 8…
“I had to see you, Holden.” Her voice wobbled, then steadied. “Thank you for the roses and the truffles. For bringing my parents here. And doing whatever you did to kill the interview. For everything. I can’t believe it.”
7… 6… 5…
I couldn’t believe it either. Not the truffles or the helicopter, and the hundred phone calls setting that up, or the money I had to pay the Sports Network for silence because Madison didn’t get to take one more thing from Lilah Childs.
Not on my mountain.
“Don’t you know, Frosty?” My eyes bore in to hers, like burrowing into her soul. “I’d do anything for you.”
But why didn’t you trust me? Why did you decide for both of us that you weren’t enough? I kept those to myself.
4… 3…
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was afraid, but not anymore.”
Tell me you’re staying then. I didn’t let myself ask. I just reached for her. The second I touched her, the last few days stopped being a blur of adrenaline and pain and became what they really were—missing her.
Her body fit against mine like something that had always belonged there. The scent of her and all the spices from the kitchen hit me so hard my eyes burned.
2… 1…
“Happy New Year, Frosty.”
As the clock ticked and Auld Lang Sine broke out on the TV, my mouth found hers, claiming the heat of her lips as mine once again.
Her hands fisted my shirt like she was afraid I’d disappear.
Fireworks crackled somewhere outside, but the only explosion I registered was the one going off in my chest.
When we broke apart, I stayed close, foreheads nearly touching, like distance was suddenly dangerous.
“We are more than a fling, Lilah.” The words came out low, urgent. “I want you to stay. I want to try—”
“I want that too.” Her breath shook. “I know that now.”
Relief hit so fast my knees almost buckled.
I cupped her jaw, thumb sliding along her cheek.
“None of the Madisons of the world could ever make me stop wanting you.” A harsher edge slipped into my voice before I could stop it.
“You think you’re a liability? No. You’re the reason this place feels alive.
All weekend, this lodge felt… complete. Because you were in it. ”
“But what will people say if my past ever surfaces again?”
“Let them talk.” The words tasted like iron and certainty. “If anyone has a problem with you staying on this mountain with me, they have plenty of other ski resort options in the world.”
Her laugh broke through, breathless and stunned, and then she kissed my face—jaw, cheek, the corner of my mouth—like she couldn’t decide where to land first.
I backed her toward my bedroom, hands on her waist, trying to move slowly even as my whole body screamed taker her now, at last she’s mine. Her feet stumbled and she laughed again as I caught her before she fell. I wanted to bottle that sound forever, keep it guarded and safe for me.
“If you want to give me the best birthday present I’ve ever had…” I brushed my thumb across her lower lip, watching her pupils darken. “Stay in my bed tonight. Wake up with me in the morning.”
“I can’t start the new year by disappointing the birthday boy.”
“Good.” The word came out like a growl. “Then tell me—what are you doing for New Year’s Day?”
“Spending it with you. Making sure our opening day goes off without a hitch.”
“Our.” My brain snagged on the word like it had teeth. Our.
“If we’re more than a fling, then we’re a team.” I loved how that landed hard.
“In that case…” My mouth nuzzled her neck, and that spot beneath her earlobe that made her moan my name. “What are you doing for Valentine’s? And Christmas next year?”
“Being with you. Happy birthday, Holden.” Her eyes locked on mine like she could reach into my soul and stay forever.
Three little words landed on the tip of my tongue, completely reckless for where we were at, almost shocking me. If I said them now, she could run, but I had to admit where I stood.
“I know it’s fast, and maybe a little insane, but… I’m falling in love with you, Lilah.”
Her fingers slid into my hair, holding me like an anchor. “It is insane,” she whispered. “But I’m falling too.”
That hit harder than any medal I’d ever chased. I didn’t need Michelin stars or fancy recognition anymore. I needed her. She was my gold medal—rare and precious and priceless. A win that I’d spend every day earning and protecting.
Before I could overthink it, I swept her up. She clung to me, kissing my neck as more fireworks boomed outside.
Champagne sat forgotten on the table. We didn’t need it. We were intoxicated with each other in our own private celebration.