Melody Anne - Baby, It’s Cold Outside

“Definitely!”

I jerk my head to the table. “Go set it up. I’m going to talk to your mom a sec.”

I walk up to Kate and guide her to a corner of the room, out of the others’ earshot.

“Did your meeting finish up early?” she asks in a steely voice.

Can’t really blame her.

“I canceled the meeting.”

Her big, gorgeous brown eyes look surprised. And hopeful. “Why?”

“Because being here with you is more important than any deal. I never should’ve scheduled work on Christmas Eve. I never should’ve left the apartment when you were upset about it. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

Kate gazes into my eyes, reading my sincerity. Then she smiles. With so much love, it makes my knees tremble.

“I forgive you.”

I pull her to me and kiss her deeply. Tenderly. Stroking her cheek with my thumb.

Then Kate looks up into my face. “Are you okay? You seem different.”

“I had this really screwed-up dream. I’ll tell you about it later.” Then I think of something else. “Hey—what do you think of going to Bumfuck, Ohio, for New Year’s Eve?”

She smiles even brighter. “I would love that.”

I wink. “Then so will I.”

Later, after we tuck James into bed and he’s out cold, Kate and I spend two hours putting together a shiny blue bicycle and an eight-foot-wide kid’s trampoline with enclosure that will take up residence in the formal dining room.

At least that room will finally have a frigging purpose.

When we’re finished, just after midnight, we sit back on the couch and gaze at the fruits of our labor. The twinkling lights of the tree reflect magically off the big red bows and the green reindeer wrapping paper. Behind the tree, outside the large picture window, delicate snowflakes cascade down from the dark sky—it’s a picture straight out of a goddamn Hallmark holiday special.

Kate’s eyes settle on me. Adoringly. “We make a pretty good team.”

I rub her shoulder. “We really do.”

It’s something I’ll never forget again.

I get up and head to the kitchen. When I come back, there’s two wineglasses and a bottle of Chateau Petrus 2002 in my hands. I uncork the bottle, letting it breathe for less time than I should, and pour a generous glass for each of us.

Kate takes the wine with a smile, and I raise my glass.

“Merry Christmas, Kate.”

She taps my glass with a clink. “Merry Christmas, Drew.”

We sip, then I lean in for a wine-flavored kiss.

Delicious.

Next, I stand up and mess with the stereo. The sound of Michael Bublé singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” fills the room, low enough not to wake James. I take her glass and set it on the table.

Then I hold out my hand to my amazing wife. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Evans?”

Her warm hand slides into mine. “There’s nothing I’d rather do, Mr. Evans.” Then—because Kate is the perfect woman—she adds, “Well, maybe there’s one thing—but I’m sure we’ll get to that later.”

I chuckle deeply. My arms wrap around her, holding her against me, her head resting against my chest. And in the light of the Christmas tree, we sway in time to the music.

Was it all just a dream?

Honestly? I don’t fucking know. But I’m grateful it happened. Because even someone as brilliant as me needs a refresher once in a while about what’s really important. The moments that matter. And the people we can’t and don’t want to imagine living without.

As I dance with the love of my life on Christmas Eve, I swear I hear the soft ring of a bell. And if you believe what that legend says, then somewhere, an angel has gotten her wings.

~ Grace ~

You have to come with us,” Cara Donovan exclaims over her third glass of Moscato. “Seriously, Gracie, it’s going to be so fun.”

“I’m not a skier,” I remind her dryly.

“There will be a lodge and hot ski instructors and a spa,” Jill Sullivan reminds me.

“I plan to take advantage of that spa,” Lauren Cunningham agrees.

“To spas and hot ski instructors!” Jenna Hull raises her wineglass in a toast.

I sit back in my seat and stare at my four friends assembled in Jill’s living room. They’re all beautiful, fun, wonderful women.

“Seriously, a bachelorette weekend in Aspen?” I ask with a frown. “Couldn’t you choose somewhere tropical? I probably won’t drown from a chaise longue by the pool.”

Jill tips her head back, her dark hair falling down her back in waves. “Cara likes the snow.”

“This is Montana. We live in the snow,” I reply stubbornly. “Didn’t you have a say?” I ask Lauren.

Both Cara and Lauren were recently engaged, and to celebrate, the five of us are going to take a weekend trip away. I was all in when I had visions of palm trees and cabana boys, but now . . .

“I think it sounds fun,” Lauren replies with a grin. “We chartered a plane and everything.”

My jaw drops and my gaze travels from Lo to Cara in disbelief.

“You chartered a freaking plane?” Jenna replies with a squeak. Jenna is stunning. Classically beautiful, reminding me of Grace Kelly with her perfectly coifed blond hair and startling blue eyes. Not to mention her perfect figure.

If she wasn’t so incredibly sweet, we might all hate her.

“Hey, this is a celebration,” Lo reminds us and sips her wine, tucking a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. The ring on her finger winks in the candlelight.

“Guys, you know I’m totally on board for celebrating your engagements. I couldn’t be happier for you.” I swallow the last sip of wine in my glass and bite my lip. “But we all know what a colossal klutz I am. I won’t survive the trip.”

Jill refills my glass as Cara shakes her head.

“We have a surprise for you,” she says.

“A sumo wrestler suit I can wear while skiing so I don’t break every bone in my body?”

“No,” Lo replies with a laugh. “A night on Whitetail Mountain.”

I frown, not understanding. “The ski resort, Whitetail Mountain?”

“The same,” Jenna replies smugly. “Grace, it’s time you learned to ski.”

“I’ve lived at the base of this mountain for six years,” I remind them as my stomach sinks. “I’ve never been on a pair of skis for a reason.”

“Don’t be silly.” Jill waves me off and pushes an envelope at me. “We’ve booked you for Friday night. It’s a half day at school for you, so you can make your two o’clock lesson time.”

“You’ll stay the night at Snow Ghost Lodge, have another two-hour lesson Saturday morning, and then a massage at the lodge’s spa, just in case.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to massage broken legs,” I mutter.

“Grace, Aspen won’t be the same without you.” Cara bats those big hazel eyes at me and I know I’ll cave. She’s one of my closest friends. How can I say no?

“Okay,” I agree softly and swig my wine. “I’ll go learn to ski.”

“You’re going to love it,” Jenna assures me. “And my place is nearby, so if you need me, just call.”

“Why don’t I just stay at your bed-and-breakfast?” I ask. “We could have a sleepover.”

“I’m booked for the season,” she replies with a wide grin. “Business is good.”

“Good for you!” Lo exclaims and holds her fist out for a bump.

“So you get a minivacation twenty minutes from home.” Cara grins and clinks her glass with mine. “May you find many hot ski instructors.”

“They’re probably all college kids, Cara. I’m a bit too old for them.”

“You look like a college kid yourself,” Jill says with a wink. “You have the cutest pixie cut I’ve ever seen, by the way. Is it easy to take care of?”

“I love it,” I reply and push my fingers through my short blond hair. “It’s super easy, but don’t you dare even think about cutting off your hair.”

The conversation segues to hairstylists and shampoo and I listen with half an ear, dreading this coming weekend. I am the world’s biggest klutz. I fall every day. I’m lucky I’m small because if I were a bigger girl, I’d be in constant pain.

As it is, I keep a bottle of Advil on me at all times.

Ah well, what’s a few broken bones when your friend’s happiness is on the line, right?

“Right, Grace?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Kyle at work has been acting really weird,” Cara repeats.

“I think his wife is sick,” I reply softly, my heart immediately hurting for our boss and friend.

“Kyle Reardon?” Jill confirms.

“Yeah, I heard that Lily has cancer.”

“That’s so sad,” Lo whispers and sips her wine.

“They have four children,” Jenna adds with a shake of her head. “That’s horrible.”

“I’ll have to go see him tomorrow, see if they need anything.” Cara pulls out her phone to make a note.

“So, back to your mini ski-cation,” Jill says with a glint in her eye. “You’re going to have so much fun.”

“I heard the lodge sold recently,” Lo adds. “I wonder who bought it?”

“Some billionaire,” Jill answers.

“Did you sell it to him?” I ask her. Jill is a real estate agent, and a damn good one.

“No, my boss got that deal.” She sighs and sticks her lower lip out in a pout. “But I hear Mr. Billionaire is hot.”

“I’ve seen him,” Jenna replies with a shrug. “He’s pretty hot. Seems nice.”