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“Well, technically, Kevin, Duke and Eddie.” He hands me my winter coat and hat, which I’ve learned is called a ‘toque’ here. I get dressed and reach for my gloves, but he hands me a bag, filled with tissue paper and tied with a ribbon.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“It’s a present. Open it.”
I set the bag down on the island and untie the curly gold ribbon, opening the bag. Nestled in the red tissue paper is a pair of knitted mittens. I lift them out, surprised at how thick and soft they are. “These are for me?”
“There’s a woman in town who makes them. She has a shop, so I went there while I was waiting for you and Liv to do your thing.”
“They have a little gingerbread man on them.” I rub my finger over the design.
“I couldn’t resist.”
I’m finding it harder and harder to resisthim.I slip them on, curling my fingers into the soft lining. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. They’ll keep you warm this afternoon.”
“Are we going on another hike?” I ask as he ushers me out the door.
“No.”
I walk out onto the porch and gasp. There’s a red sleigh, harnessed with two beautiful black horses and a driver bundled up in a thick, black coat with fur around the hood. Jingle bells tingle as one of the horses lifts its big head, looking up at the porch.
“Oh. My. God. Serena is going to love this. It looks like something out of a movie.” I rush down the stairs, pulling up short as I realize the horses are so much bigger than I imagined. One of them snorts, stamping his big leg as I shrink back against Owen.
“This is Eddie,” he says pointing at the horse who seems impatient. “And that’s Duke,” he points at the other horse, who dips his head like he’s greeting me. “Our driver is Kevin.” He waves up at Kevin who smiles at me, kindly.
“Nothing to worry about from these boys, miss. They’re big but gentle. They haven’t been out in the snow yet this year and they’re excited to get moving.” Kevin holds up the reins.
I look over at Owen. “We’re going for a sleigh ride?”
“Absolutely. How else will you know it’s the perfect thing for your sister’s wedding?”
He moves us past the horse and down to the sleigh. Kevin jumps down and places a small wooden block on the ground, which I use to step up and into the carriage. It’s old-fashioned, with black velvet seats that have been draped in white fluffy blankets. Owen gets in and wraps a thick blanket around my feet and lower legs before sitting next to me and pulling a blanket over our laps.
I put my hand on his thigh and he turns to me. “This is amazing.”
“I can make it even better,” he says, cupping my cheek in his hand and lowering his mouth to mine. His lips are cold, but the kiss is hot, his mouth moving over mine like a man starved. It feels like sunshine and snowflakes and magic as our kiss goes on and I lose another little piece of my heart when he pulls back, his lips curving up in a smile against mine.
“Still infuriating?” he murmurs.
I shake my head, blushing when I hear the bells jingle as Kevin calls to the horses and the sleigh starts to move. Owen tucks me in against him and I lean back, letting the breeze cool the heat in my cheeks.
The horses take us on a different path than the hike we did, through fields with barns and trees that look dressed for the holidays with frosty snow glistening under the afternoon sun. The bells jingle merrily as the horses pull us along and I really do feel like I’m in a movie, especially when the sleigh glides to a stop, just as the sky is darkening to a deep purple-blue. Owen steps out, helping me down before a gazebo that’s decked out with a fully decorated picnic table, cushions, candles and two patio heaters. He leans into the sleigh and pulls out a basket from under the seat.
“Our winter picnic,” he says hoisting the basket up and taking my hand in his. He waves to Kevin, who pulls away, bells jingling. I watch the sleigh glide across the snow.
“How will we get back?”
“This is Kevin’s farm. I’ll text him when we’re ready and he’ll pick us up to take us back to the inn.”
We step into the gazebo and Owen unpacks the basket. There’s roast chicken and salad, butternut squash soup, kept hot in a thermos. Fresh bread, cheese and fruit and of course, dessert. Thick slabs of gingerbread, shortbread cookies and fudgy chocolate cookies rolled in coconut. Sugar cookies topped with crushed candy canes and some amazing chocolate squares layered with custard on a brownie-like base.
We eat like kings, laughing and licking our fingers as we sample the picnic basket offerings. He tells me stories about growing up here and about how hard it was for him to be traded to a new team. I talk to him about work and my place in Los Angeles and that I’m worried my plants miss me. He assures me they probably miss me like crazy but that they’ll be fine.
I reach for a cookie, moaning around the explosion of flavor.
“Those are nanaimo bars,” Owen says passing me another one as I lick the sweetness off my lips.
