Page 43 of Falling for Santa

“Don’t I?” Scott countered, his tone sharper than he intended. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “She’s practical, Kara. She’s been through a lot. It makes sense for her to want what’s safe and secure. Palmar Island doesn’t exactly scream opportunity.”

“Maybe not,” Kara said, “but Palmar Island hasyou. And don’t roll your eyes, Scott—I can feel you doing it from here.”

Despite himself, Scott smiled faintly. “I don’t want to pressure her,” he said, his voice quieter now. “She’s been through enough without me adding to it.”

“It’s not pressure,” Kara insisted. “It’s honesty. She deserves to know how you feel, Scott. If she leaves without knowing, can you live with that?”

Scott didn’t answer right away. The question hung between them, heavy and unavoidable.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “What if I tell her and it makes things worse?”

“What if you don’t, and it means missing out on something amazing?” Kara countered. Her tone softened. “Look, I get it.You’re scared. But if you care about her, really care about her, you owe it to both of you to be honest. Even if it doesn’t go the way you want.”

Scott closed his eyes, his hand tightening around the phone. He didn’t want to admit it, but Kara was right.

“Thanks, sis,” he said after a moment, his voice low but sincere.

“Anytime,” she replied. “And Scott? Don’t overthink it. Just be yourself. That’s always been more than enough.”

After they hung up, Scott sat in silence, staring at the half-finished bookshelf on his workbench. He picked up a piece of sandpaper, running it over the wood in slow, deliberate strokes, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Kara’s words replayed in his mind, mingling with the sound of Megan’s voice.

To give Ruby the financially secure future she deserves.

He set the sandpaper down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bench. For so long, he’d convinced himself that what he and Megan had was fragile, something that could easily be brushed aside if the right opportunity came along. But what if he was wrong? What if it was worth fighting for?

“If I don’t tell her how I feel,” he said aloud, his voice steady but quiet, “I’ll regret it forever.”

The realization settled over him like a weight lifting. Megan deserved to know. Even if she chose San Diego, at least he wouldn’t have left anything unsaid.

And maybe he could even his odds. Give her a path to the financial security she needed.

He picked up the phone and scrolled through his contacts.

“James Winter Law Firm, how can I direct your call?” a friendly voice asked.

Chapter Seventeen

The rich scent of melting chocolate filled Megan's small kitchen, mingling with Ruby's delighted giggles as she perched on her step stool, watching Miss Doris measure ingredients with practiced ease. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, catching the fine dusting of flour that seemed to coat every surface.

"Now, the secret," Miss Doris said, her eyes twinkling as she handed Ruby a measuring cup, "is using exactly the right amount of chocolate chips. No more, no less."

Ruby's face scrunched in concentration as she carefully poured the chips into the bowl, though Megan didn't miss the way her daughter's other hand snuck a few pieces into her mouth.

"I saw that, little one," Miss Doris laughed, tapping Ruby's nose and leaving a small smudge of flour. "You're as sneaky as my boys were at your age."

Megan smiled, leaning against the counter as she watched them work. There was something achingly familiar about this scene—the warmth, the laughter, the gentle guidance of someone who'd baked countless batches of brownies before.

"Mama, can I stir?" Ruby asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Careful now," Megan said, stepping forward to steady the bowl as Ruby wielded the wooden spoon with determination.

Miss Doris watched them both, her expression soft. "You're getting quite good at this, Ruby. Pretty soon you'll be teaching me how to bake."

Ruby beamed, chocolate smeared across one cheek. "Can we make these for Santa Scott?"

The question caught Megan off guard, and she felt Miss Doris's knowing gaze settle on her. "We'll see, sweetheart," she managed, brushing a curl from Ruby's forehead.

---