He grinned as Mason executed another small jump. Maybe Nick was getting attached too. And now, with his and Holly’s new status, maybe he’d get the chance to be around for a while.
“Have you enjoyed your time here?” Grace’s eyes grew serious, more discerning, as she focused on him.
Nick offered a casual shrug. “Well, I’m not the best skater, but it’s going pretty good, I suppose.”
“I meant at the farm.” Then she patted his shoulder and chuckled. “Oh, you were teasing me. I see that now.”
“Sorry, I think your children are rubbing off on me.” He grinned. “In all seriousness, I really have enjoyed it. The property is beautiful, and getting to know Holly has been…well…”
Words failed him as he watched her attempt to skate on her own, her wild red hair a beacon among the pastel jackets.Complicated? Amazing? Wonderful? Disastrous?All those words were accurate and yet none of them seemed to sum up his and Holly’s journey, which, for the record, he’d take a dozen more times at least. Frosty the Terrifying Snowman and all.
Grace adjusted the thick plaid scarf around her neck. “Your face says it all, dear.”
“It’s more than that, though…” Nick drew a breath of cold air, rejuvenating his lungs. His hope. “Being with your family has shown me what Christmas could be. What itshouldbe, even.”
“Chaotic?” Grace chuckled.
“Well, that.” Nick grinned. “But also real. Real messy, real fun. Real relationships with real dynamics.” He swallowed. “Real love.”
“I’m glad.” Grace’s voice softened. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I was hoping you’d say. Something to reveal your heart. Iknow things shifted on you when you got here, with everyone else arriving so suddenly, and we haven’t had a chance to talk as much as I’d hoped.”
“I’m glad you’re getting this time with your family. That should be the priority. That said, your property does seem like the perfect place for my camp.” Nick met her gaze, hoping she could read the depths of his promise. “I can guarantee I’d take great care of it. I’d love the opportunity to share it with teenagers needing a second chance.”
“Andwe’dlove to talk numbers.” Thomas clamored over from the row behind Nick. “I’ll need a calculator first and maybe my bank statement.” He grinned. “But let’s do that. Before you go back home.”
Nick’s chest swelled as Thomas slid onto the bench on the other side of Grace. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Thomas took Grace’s delicate hand in his and beamed at her. “I think it’s pretty clear all of this is working out exactly how it’s meant to.” He watched Holly attempt a shaky spin on the ice, then he shot Nick a smile. “In several ways.”
“That sounds great, sir.” Better than great.
“Of course, we’ve still got to get through the holidays before we tell the kids.” Grace clutched Thomas’s hand.
“Tell us what?” Ryan’s voice sounded from behind Nick.
Grace’s face washed pale. Thomas cleared his throat.
Oh no. Nick slowly turned and looked up at Ryan, who stood holding a funnel cake and a paper carton of nachos.
Ryan’s brow furrowed as his gaze darted between the three of them. “Olivia had to go make a phone call. She told me to bring you this.” He stepped down to their riser beside Nick and leaned across him to hand Grace the nachos. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Um…” Grace exhaled softly as she took the carton and looked helplessly at Thomas.
Ryan gasped. “Mom. Are you really sick?”
The plate in his hand tilted and, as if in slow motion, the funnel cake began to slide down the paper. Nick instinctively moved to catch it, but the powdered dough slipped through his fingers and landed with a splat on his shoes. White sugar poofed like a cloud of smoke around his jean-clad knees.
Sort of like his best-laid plans.
Thomas winced as he looked between Ryan and Grace. He started to speak, then sighed and shook his head. “I think it’s past time for the truth around here.”
That’s it. My family was nuts. Just when everything was finally going well in my life, Ryan had to get dramatic and call a family meeting. Which obviously cut our skating time short, because that’s what Sinclairs did when someone called an FM—drop everything and get to the binder.
I never even got a funnel cake.
“Why is a family meeting such a big deal, again?” Nick’s voice was low in my ear as we crammed onto the couch alongside Ryan and Lydia. He’d been quiet the entire ride home from the rink, as had most of us.
Family meetings didn’t play.
