Chapter 12 #2
Stephanie smiled, the knitting needles clicking in a soothing rhythmic cadence.
“Yeah, I stole it from him one year. With his deployments, they don't always make it to the cabin for Christmas, and some years they’re with Ivy’s family, but this year they’re gonna be there.
” She blew out a breath. “Truthfully, that’s the only reason I’m not skipping this year.
Them and Hailey, because her folks are out of town. ”
“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question. Her tone practically bled with her affection.
“Yeah. Gabe’s the only sibling I’m close to.
We’re not even blood relatives technically, since Hiram is his stepdad—his stepson from his first marriage—so we’re half siblings.
Maybe? There’s no blood connection. So, I don’t know how that works, but he’s always been there for me.
” She abruptly cleared her throat and glanced out the window.
Nat King Cole’s soothing lilt in “O Holy Night” filled the space between us, and I hummed along softly, giving her a few minutes to collect herself.
My phone pinged, and I recognized Ryan’s chime.
We were due for a quick restroom stop soon to stretch our legs and maybe grab another coffee.
I could sneak a peek at the message then.
But for now, we still had several hours of driving and way too many details to iron out between us. It was time to steer us back into lighter waters. “I saw your picture of Glacier at your place. I didn’t realize you were a photographer.”
Stephanie bristled, her knitting movements becoming jagged and exaggerated. “I’m not.”
“C’mon, Steph, I saw the picture. And don’t even get me started on the engagement session you did for Ben and Liz. You have a gift. Why don’t you use it?”
The clack of needles stopped, and she inhaled sharply. I’d clearly hit a nerve, but why?
“It wasn’t a surefire success plan,” Stephanie said at last, blowing out a breath. “I thought about studying photography and media, but business marketing and administration was a safer venture. Solid job options. Stability. Even if it did feel like I was following in Hiram’s shoes.”
I nodded, tapping my fingers lightly against the wheel, keeping time with the background music, and not totally sure what to say to that. “Do you… miss it? The creative aspect?” I asked once the next song started.
She shifted in her seat, turning to face me. “Why are you asking this?” It wasn’t exactly accusatory, more defensive with a hint of curiosity.
“Well, originally I thought it was a safer conversation than your family, but I evidently stuck my foot in my mouth,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh, which made her mouth twitch in a smile.
“But honestly, it’s because you make me curious.
I’ve gotten to know a side of you for years.
But I want to know more. I want to know what matters to you.
What you value. What makes you tick. And you evidently have a passion for photography. I could feel it as a viewer.”
Stephanie’s cheeks flushed as I finished. Maybe I’d said too much, but I wanted honesty between us.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” She sighed. “I do miss it. Capturing the moment. I want to do it again one day. I just need to be brave enough.” Resuming her knitting, she muttered, “Story of my life these days.”
Now it was truly time for a lighter subject. “Nick, Joe, or Kevin?” I said after “Like It’s Christmas” finished playing.
She stared at me and then burst into laughter. It was music to my ears. Someone should bottle that sound up. It’d be worth millions.
“I honestly never thought about it,” she wheezed. “All of them together is what makes the music sound good. Is this what I get for squeezing one boy band song into a playlist of classics? It wasn’t even me—Liz added it.”
“Keeping you on your toes. Now, what’s our story?”
When she didn’t reply, I stole a glance at her and noticed the pink in her cheeks again. Huh, interesting.
“Well, we should probably stick to the truth. We had mutual friends but didn’t realize it till after I started working for you,” she said slowly. “But we should probably underplay that.”
“How long have we been dating?”
She winced, dropping her head back against the headrest with a thud and a groan. “Nana’s gonna kill me.”
“I didn’t sign up for murder, Steph.”
She laughed again. “It’s just that I talk to her every week. There’s no way I would have kept my dating life from her. So it can’t be too long, or she won’t believe me, but not too short because who brings a week-long boyfriend home for the holidays?” Her voice cracked with tension.
“Well, we’ve been friends for a while,” I said slowly, not wanting to scare her with just how long I’d been interested in her. “Friendship is a good base for any relationship, and once there were sparks, we just knew.”
Stephanie shifted to study me, considering. “That could work. I talk about you often enough.” The subtle pink staining her face shifted to a deep crimson, and it shouldn’t be this appealing. “I mean, you’re my boss. I tell her about work, obviously. So yeah, she should believe that.”
I shouldn’t find her awkwardness so endearing, but this side of Stephanie was so different from what I was used to. It was addicting. “Okay, we wanted to make sure we weren’t just better off as friends before meeting the family. That sound about right?”
She relaxed into the leather seat, sipping from her water bottle. “Yeah. Nana wanted to meet you anyway. This will be my Christmas gift to her.” She snorted. “This, plus the vinyl collection of Shania Twain’s greatest hits.”
We shared a laugh and eased back into the companionable silence.
It wasn’t forced or awkward or heavy. It was the kind of quiet where you could sit and just…
be. There was no pressure, no uncomfortable tension to break.
Just two souls comfortable with the presence of the other.
I’d felt this way with her before, but now… it was more poignant.
We stopped at a coffee shop in Missoula for a restroom break, and I finally had the chance to check my phone while I waited for Stephanie.
Ryan had come through with a number, thanks to Kelsi, and a demand for answers on why I needed Liz’s number.
I’d tell him later. For now, I had a handful of minutes before Stephanie would reappear.
ME
Hi, Liz. This is Nash. I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from Kelsi, but I need your help with a Christmas gift for Stephanie. I wanted to get her something photography related, if you think she wouldn’t hate it?
I wasn’t expecting an immediate reply, but I got one anyway.
LIZ
Oh my goodness, you’re a gem. There’s a lens she’s been eyeing for years, depending on your budget.
ME
No budget.
LIZ
Don’t let her know that. She’s allergic to spending money on herself. Okay, here’s the link.
The link came through to a sleek 70-200mm lens. Ideal for portraits and macro shots, according to the product description.
ME
Thanks. I owe you one.
LIZ
Keep our girl safe from the vultures, and I’ll call it even.
ME
You got it.
I quickly ordered the lens and had it express shipped to the cabin.
In Gabe’s name. I was hopeful he wouldn’t mind.
I’d just clicked “Confirm Order” when my phone rang.
My gut clenched at the caller ID. Mountainside Rehabilitation Center.
Lord, please no. Not again. With a deep breath and another hasty prayer, I answered.
“Hello, Mr. Prescott, this is Julia from Mountainside Rehabilitation Center. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but—”
“She checked herself out again, didn’t she?” I cut in roughly.
Julia’s breath hitched. “Yes, sir.”
We’d done this dance before, and no doubt my mom would be calling me any time between now and New Year’s to ask for money. Depending on her current boyfriend, it might be a month or two.
“She was only two weeks off of completing her program, wasn’t she?”
“That’s right, sir.” Julia sounded tired, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d hate having to make calls like this, too.
I’d paid for four stints of rehab for my mother to get clean from the drugs she insisted on using, but twice she’d checked herself out before even finishing the program.
I rubbed my forehead. “Thanks for calling, Julia. Have a merry Christmas.”
“You, too, Mr. Prescott.” She hung up.
I stared at my phone’s blank screen, the hum of the coffee shop and the heady aroma of nutmeg blurring my senses. Why now? She was so close. By New Year’s she would’ve been clean.
“Everything all good?” Stephanie asked as she came around the free-standing shelf of roasted coffee beans and mugs.
I jolted and slid my phone back in my pocket. “Yup.” I tried smiling, but it felt stiff. Mechanical. “Christmas isn’t the time to ask questions. Want another coffee?”
She shook her head slowly, eyeing me like she saw right through my sham. “Maybe after lunch. I forgot to take my medication earlier, and it needs to be away from caffeine.”
I nodded. “All right then. Let’s hit the road.” Up till now, I hadn’t been open about my past with her, and if we were going to make this work, I needed to be. But not right here in a dimly lit coffee shop with a mounted elk head eyeing us up.
“This is it?” I asked in wide-eyed appreciation as I parked the car in the broad driveway. It was just after four in the afternoon, and the sky was already a deepening hue of shadowed periwinkle.
Stephanie smiled wryly. “Yup.”
As I stared at the timber monstrosity before us, I quickly got the picture of why she wanted to change out of her sweats and hoodie at the gas station and into dark jeans and a wine-coloured cabled sweater.
I thought she’d looked great in the sweats.
Better than great actually. But apparently, loungewear was for lounging only at the cabin.
The timber and stonework emanated stately prestige from where it sat on a slight ridge, overlooking the expansive swath of the snowcapped blue-hued Tetons and flanked by a shadowy sentinel of evergreens.
Strings of white-and-red Christmas lights capped the gables and wound around the front deck railing.
Warm light spilling through the expansive front picture windows dazzled the darkening sky.
“I think calling this a cabin is majorly underselling it. The fact that we were going to Jackson should have been my first hint.”
Stephanie huffed, tugging on her sweater sleeve. “Hiram has expensive taste, so for him this is a cabin.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. Millionaire.”
Maybe, but I didn’t own ritzy woodland cabins big enough to house a few football fields in a high-end elite town. I hadn’t been born into money, and I didn’t see the need to change my way of life extravagantly just because I had it now.
Stephanie blew out a breath. “You ready?”
“You trying to scare me off? Because it’s too late for that.”
She bit her lip and sighed. “They’re ruthless, Nash. Like sharks smelling blood in the water. Watch your back. Remember, Nana, Hailey, and Gabe and Ivy’s family are the only allies once you step in those doors.”
I offered her a lighthearted salute to make her smile. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ve alerted my lawyer for my last will and testament should I not make it back alive, and Emmett and Ryan will inherit the company.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. And Ryan doesn’t even work for you.” But her lips twitched, so I called it a win. “Oh… and I should mention…” Her eyes were full of apologies as she looked up at me. “This is my first Christmas with my family since I started working for you.”
“Making me public enemy number one?”
She winced, but I took her hand, lacing our fingers. A bit of warmth compared to the nippy breeze. “Don’t worry, Steph. I figured this might be a bit uncomfortable, but we’ve got this. I’m in your corner. It’s why I’m here.”
In a flash, Stephanie was up on her tiptoes—height difference was a thing for us—brushing a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you.”
Words ceased to exist in my brain, and all I could do was squeeze her hand.
Stephanie was a petite woman, and her hand was small in mine.
Nerves and hope danced across her face as she peered up at me.
I smiled reassuringly. I’d face a lot more than my business nemesis on his home turf to have her thank me like that again.
But for now, it was time for our Christmas performance. Because it’s fake. For now.
“Showtime, darlin’.”
It took two trips to the door with luggage and then we just stood there. Hesitating. Like whatever was on the other side couldn’t hurt us from out here.
“Nash,” Stephanie whispered, her hand hovering over the doorknob.
“Yeah?” My name sounded far too appealing on her lips.
“Welcome to the Addams Family Christmas.” She flung open the door, and my ears instantly rang with the noise.