Taimyr and Kenai each grabbed one of his shoulders. “Come on, big guy. Time to take one for the herd.”
“I hate all of you,” Aleksi muttered as they dragged him forward.
“No you don’t,” I said, rising on my toes to kiss his cheek. “And I promise I’ll run interference if she gets too handsy.”
“What?!” Aleksi looked horrified.
“You really haven’t spent much time around older women, have you?” Taimyr scoffed. “They’re worse than alphas in rut. All that experience and zero shame.”
“Still here,” I reminded them. “And that’s my grandmother you’re talking about.”
Kenai laughed and planted a kiss on top of my head. “Then you know it’s true.”
He wasn’t wrong.
It waspast three a.m. when we finally took a real break. Aunt Patricia had signed off hours ago, promising to have her section done by morning. My mates were spread out among the stacks, organizing contracts and comparing notes. Aleksi was conveniently the furthest away.
Which left the three Hartwell women gathered around the mahogany desk.
Mom brought in hot chocolate—realhot chocolate, mind you—and we sat in the comfortable, if ancient, chairs.
“So,” Mom said, cradling her mug. “How are you really doing, sweetheart?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.” I laughed weakly. “A week ago, my biggest problem was whether to make partner or start my own practice. Now…well, everything’s different. It’s insane.”
“But you’re happy,” Grandma Rose noted. It wasn’t a question.
I thought about it—about Kenai’s gentleness, Taimyr’s steadying presence, the way Aleksi had slowly opened up to me, tous. About feeling like I belonged somewhere, with someone, for the first time in years.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I am. Terrified and in way over my head, but happy.”
“Good.” Mom reached over and squeezed my knee. “You know, I always worry about you. You work so hard, push yourself so much. You’re so much like your grandmother”—she glanced at Rose—“no offense.”
“None taken. I was a workaholic. It’s not a secret.”
“But you seemed lonely, Sylvie,” Mom continued. “Ever since Adam. Like you were trying to fill some void with workand cases. I didn’t know how to help you because you’re so independent and capable, and you never seemed to need anyone.”
“I did need people,” I whispered. “I just didn’t know how to let them in.”
“And now?” Grandma Rose asked.
“Sometimes,” I quipped with a cheeky grin, “a little Christmas magic is just what a girl needs. Now I have three wonderful men who won’t let me shut them out, even when I try.”
“Three men,” Mom said almost wistfully.
“Yes, Mother. Three men. It’s not what I ever expected, but I know it’s right.”
Grandma Rose chuckled. “Well, you always were an overachiever.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping hot chocolate and watching the magical lights of the library twinkle.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “For not being around more and being too busy with work to visit or call. I followed in your footsteps a little too well.” I looked at Grandma Rose.
She set down her mug and reached for my hand. “I’m sorry too. For being the example that taught you work was more important than everything else. For not showing you there was another way.”
“But you’re showing me now,” I replied. “By being here.”
“Because this one matters,” Grandma Rose said firmly. “You asked for help and we’re family, and that’s what family does. Even if it took me nearly eighty-two years to get it right.”
