“But do you love him?” Jesse asks. “I won’t help if you’re gonna up and leave in a month’s time.”
“Choose wisely, because I’m only holding Beau back once,” Lake says in a way that means he’s serious but also kind of hopes he can unleash his brother on me.
I watch them watch me, and the strangest feeling of contentment washes over me. If I can win Reid back, I’ll be getting not only him but them as well—his family.
Well, most of them. Beau might take years to sway, but I want it more than anything because Reid is worth every side-eye and snide comment in my future.
“I won’t tell you before him,” I say, skirting the question. It might as well have been an admission considering the way three pairs of eyes widen as they stare at me. Matching smirks hitch up the corners of their mouths and they nod.
It’s weird.
But it could be worse.
And thank God for that because I don’t have time for worse. I only have a couple of hours before I can convince the man who stole my heart that he’s it for me.
That I love him.
And he’s mine.
20
REID
Exhaustion consumes me as Wren and I pull into the tree farm. We should have just gone home because being here no longer brings me joy.
At least not today.
Right now, it’s bittersweet—the best and worst days of my life existing with acres of trees.
“I just have to drop this stuff off and then we can go home.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, I’ll be back in a minute.”
She’s barely out of the car before my eyes are closed and my head has fallen to the headrest. I hate feeling this way, like I’m drowning and can’t breach the surface no matter how hard I try.
My phone chirps in my lap, and it takes every ounce of effort to open my eyes and look at the screen.
WREN: Come outside
I blinkand read the message again, my annoyance growing as I wrestle out of my seatbelt, cursing Wren as I do because Ijustasked her if she needed help. Growling, I slam the door and take a step toward the shop.
And then it happens.
A soft glow lights up the night, dozens of trees wrapped in white lights creating the most romantic winter scene I’ve ever seen. I gasp, barely noticing that Wren has appeared at my side. Kissing my cheek, she hands me a red envelope.
“Merry Christmas, Reid.”
“What—”
She nods toward the envelope. “Open it.”
Heart hammering in my chest, I tear open the paper with shaking hands, my nickname scribbled at the top.
Christmas,
I don’t call you Christmas to be cliché but because you embody all that is good in this world and every hope and dream surrounding it. You shine bright not just one day, buteveryday, and I’ll be forever grateful to have basked in your light.
