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“We didn’t really have any.”
He blinks. “Did you celebrate Christmas?”
My lips twist a little. “Not really. Our mom wasn’t into it and our dad wasn’t in the picture.” I hunch my shoulders, waiting the for the questions to come, but he’s silent. When I glance up, I fear I’m going to see pity or sadness or anger in his face, but instead he smiles gently at me. “How do you feel about Christmas?”
I shrug. “I mean… I don’t hate it or anything. It just always seemed like it was something other people enjoyed.” I shiver a little and he tugs me in, blocking me from the wind.
He steers me towards the door. “Your sister must enjoy it.”
“She loves the idea of it. And she’s so in love with Max, everything feels like a fairytale to her.” I spread my arms. “This place is charming, and she wants a fairytale wedding that is in keeping with her dreams as a little girl.”
Owen nudges me in the direction of the family kitchen I saw earlier when Olivia took me on a tour of the house. “She doesn’t want a castle and hundreds of guests?”
I smile. “No. She performs in front of crowds all the time. She wants this to be intimate. Luxurious, but something that feels like a home.” I bite my lip. It’s so easy to talk to Owen. Even back at the airport, there was this strange familiarity when we had dinner together and it’s still there. I admire his broad back at the stove. “What are you doing?”
He glances over his shoulder. “You’re chilled. I’m making cocoa.”
I wander over and peek around to see him stirring chocolate and cream together. “Isn’t hot chocolate a powder?”
Owen growls. “If you want the basic stuff, the envelope will do in a pinch. But this is my great-grandmother’s recipe, and it is so worth it. And there’s powder, if you count the actual cocoa and sugar.” The cords in his forearms flex as he whisks. He pulls down two mugs shaped like gingerbread men and fills them, bringing them to the island. He opens a jar and shakes some mini marshmallows into our cups before sliding one in front of me. “Here, this will warm you up.”
I blow gently into the cup and take a sip, giving a little moan at the rich chocolate flavor. “This is delicious.” I pull out my phone and make a note. “I know we’re doing all the mimosas and fancy lattes, for the wedding breakfast, but I know Sav would love this.”
“Add it to the menu.”
“You don’t think Olivia would mind?”
He peers at me over the rim of his cup. “If I get to see that expression on your face again, I’ll make it myself.”
My belly flutters. I am in deep, deep trouble here.
8
Owen
Ifinish my stretches, pleased at the stability in my knee this morning when I worked out. My mind is clear too. Maybe it’s the fresh winter air. Maybe it’s being home. Who am I kidding? It’s the anticipation of spending another day with Serena. Last night at dinner, Liv caught my eye across the table, and sent me a not-so-subtle message that she was noticing the vibes between me and our guest.
Serena is amazing. Smart and funny and happy to jump in and help Olivia and her team with whatever needs to be done. Yesterday, it was packing the special Christmas-themed bags for wedding favors. There aren’t a lot of guests, but Savannah wanted everything wrapped perfectly, of course. From the custom crystal ornaments, handmade perfume for each guest, plus the champagne and luxury treats, Serena was happy to sit and do it herself rather than make demands or agonize over every little detail. She’s careful and conscientious, of course but I get the impression she cares about her sister and wants her day to be special, as opposed to arranging everything to look Instagram-worthy.
Her luggage arrived, and I was unhappy to find my jersey neatly folded on the bench at the end of my bed. Last night I lay awake debating whether I should go to her and beg her to wear nothing but my jersey while I lick between her curvy thighs. Nothing about our one night together satisfied my craving for her and walking around with a perpetual hard-on is driving me crazy.
We went on a winter hike through the woods, and her wonder and exclamation at the carved, wooden animals set through the trails made me remember what it was like to be a kid and discover a new one each year. She added the hike to the list of activities that her sister would go wild for. She hasn’t mentioned too much about her childhood, but something burns in my chest at the thought her never having experienced a happy Christmas.
Today I have a huge surprise for her. Olivia already had it in the wedding plans, but I can’t resist the thought of seeing Serena’s eyes light up when she discovers it.
I pull on some clothes and head down the stairs, but no one is around. I grab one of Liv’s berry-filled muffins and head down the glass breezeway that connects the family area to the main part of the inn. The sound of piano music drifts to me from the music room. When I arrive, Olivia puts her finger to her lips and I lean against the doorframe, admiring the view.
Serena’s long, red hair is tied back with a dark green ribbon, and she’s seated at the piano, framed by the window. I instantly recognize the opening notes of my favorite Christmas song, ‘O Holy Night’ and I’m about to step in the room when Serena starts to sing. Savannah Hale might be one of the most famous singers in the world, but the talent didn’t skip over Serena. Her low, husky voice raises goosebumps on my arms, and I’m mesmerized as she continues the hymn. She weaves a spell around me, and I realize there’s no way I’m letting her walk away from this inexplicable pull I feel to her. I felt it at the airport. I felt it at the hotel, and I feel it now. I want her here in my family’s home, every single Christmas, laughing as we walk through the woods, sipping hot cocoa and singing carols.
The song ends and Olivia bursts into applause. Serena spins around on the bench and our eyes lock. “Oh, I thought it was just me and Olivia.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I won’t apologize. That sounded amazing. Are you sure you don’t have a secret album out there somewhere?”
A blush sweeps across her cheeks. “Savannah wants me to sing it at the wedding. It was our grandmother’s favorite.”
“It’s my favorite too,” I say softly.
Olivia smiles like the cat that just swallowed the canary. “Owen, the guests are going to start arriving tomorrow. Serena and I have to go over a few final details, including the position for the photographers and lighting before we lose the natural light.” She gestures at the window. “I know you plan to show Serena the wedding surprise, so why don’t you head to the big kitchen and get stuff packed for that.”
