Page 144 of My Favorite Holidate

“And since Wilder owns this resort, guess what else you’re not in?”

His eyes turn watery. “What else?”

He’s crying. He’s fucking crying. Holy shit. This is the best thing ever. Wait, no,this is. I puff out my chest and say, “You’re not staying here at my cabins—fuck it—my chalets a minute longer.”

He gulps as tears streak down his cheeks. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“That’s a really good question, Brady. You might have won a few battles, but I’m going to win this strategy game because I’ve arranged your escort out of town.”

Right on cue, the sheriff pulls into the driveway, cuts the engine, and climbs out of the patrol car. He’s not alone. Mayor Bumblefritz exits the passenger side, keeping one arm tucked behind his back. They both stride up the stone path to the door and into the cabin foyer, accompanied by a gust of crisp air.

Sheriff Hardick clears his throat, hooks his thumbs into his pants pockets, then rocks back on his heels. “Every year, we host a friendly holiday competition in the spirit of sportsmanship and gentle-humanly behavior. And you ruined it with your petulant, whiny, bratty antics tonight. So it will be my absolute pleasure to escort you out of this town and leave you at the county limits.”

Brady gulps. “On the side of the road? What do I do then?”

The mayor whips out his megaphone from behind his back and booms, “We don’t give a shit.”

I turn back to Brady and smile. “As the owner of this resort and someone who grew up, in fact,a regular guy,” I say, sketching air quotes, “it gives me great pleasure to say get the hell off my property. You’ve got one minute to get your things.”

Exactly one gratifying minute of frantic scrambling later, Brady and a very tired Iris scurry out of the cabin in their bathrobes, with their clothes poking out of their duffel bags.

But before he can dart down the stairs, I grab Brady by the neck of his bathrobe and yank him toward me. “If youever talk to the woman I love again, bother her, or contact her in any way, shape, or form, you’ll have me to answer to. And remember—I started as just a regular guy, and I know how to play every single game. Now get the fuck out of town.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and with his tail tucked between his legs, he runs to the sheriff’s vehicle for a ride out of town.

“And don’t come back,” I call out helpfully.

“Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Blaine,” Sheriff Hardick says as he tips his cowboy hat my way. Then he turns to Brady and Iris and adds, “In case that wasn’t clear, you’re not welcome at Evergreen Falls. We like everyone except for cheating little cheaters who cheat in our Christmas competition.”

They peel off, and that’s one more thing fixed.

Leo turns back to me, then nods toward my cabin. “Maybe it’s time for you to deal with that wholethe woman I lovething.”

Huh. I did say that in the heat of the moment. More than once in fact. And I felt it all deep in my bones, and into the far corners of my soul.

Trouble is, when I reach my cabin, the light’s off in the honeymoon suite.

50

ONE LITTLE THING

Wilder

Fable’s likely asleep. My woman loves her shut-eye.

My woman.

She still feels like mine even though she’s not. Even though I let her go—another foolish move.

As I return to the main cabin, my heart pounds mercilessly in her direction and my attention strays down the hall to the suite we shared. Two hours ago, she said she wanted to stop this thing between us. Just because I’m madly, deeply, painfully, terribly, incredibly in love with herdoesn’t mean that’s going to change.

Unless you tell her you love her.

Does she even want to hear it, though? Do I trust myself to get it right? Those questions chase me.

When I left the suite, I started out with the aim of fixing the mess I made of Christmas. I’ve left something unfinished, and I need to set that right.

Bibi.

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