Page 60 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

“Show me,” he whispered against my hair.

I spread the campaign images, watching his face as he took in each carefully curated moment: the Wilsons’ fortieth-anniversary celebration, Rosie Blair teaching her first ski class, Marie’s grandmother’s ribbon-cutting for the original bakery.The final board showed Pine Haven at sunset, golden light catching the newly restored windows, with the tagline “Where Traditions Begin.”

“It’s perfect,” Hunter whispered. His arms slipped around my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. The solid warmth of him steadied me. “Just like you.”

“I’m far from perfect.” I turned in his embrace, needing to see his face. The morning light caught the gold flecks in his eyes, though shadows of worry still lingered. “Hunter, about your mother...”

“Shh.” He pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt a slight tremor in his hands. “Right now, I just need...”

“What?”

“You.”

The simple word held volumes. I raised my hand to his cheek, feeling the slight stubble there. His eyes closed at my touch, the tension easing from his shoulders like snow melting in sunlight.

Claire’s arrival made us step apart, though Hunter’s hand found mine, maintaining contact. The familiar click of her heels on hardwood echoed in the morning quiet.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she smiled knowingly, tablet tucked under her arm, “but you need to see these responses to the campaign preview.”

She showed us messages from local businesses, each wanting to be part of Pine Haven’s rebirth. The Parkers sharing how three generations had learned to ski here. Marie’s story about her grandmother teaching her to bake in the resort kitchen. The local photographer who’d captured thousands of family moments over decades.

“This is more than marketing,” Hunter realized, studying a photo of his father teaching a children’s ski class. “It’s...”

“Healing,” I finished, watching him trace his father’s smile. “For all of us.”

He pulled me closer, dropping a kiss on my temple. The casual intimacy of it made my heart flutter, even as his hand trembled slightly against my back.

We worked through the morning, professional planning interspersed with moments that took my breath away—Hunter’s steady presence as we reviewed layouts, his proud smile when I presented ideas to the staff, the way he somehow anticipated when I needed coffee or encouragement, or just his quiet strength.

“You two are ridiculous,” Claire announced after catching another lingering look between us. Her voice held the fondness of someone who’d watched our story unfold from the beginning. “I’m going to lunch. Try to get some actual work done while I’m gone.”

Alone again, Hunter pulled me away from the desk where morning light had warmed the wood to honey-gold. “Dance with me?”

“There’s no music.”

He pulled out his phone, and soft notes filled the office—the same song that played the first night we’d worked late together. Taking my hand, he drew me into a slow sway.

“I love watching you work,” he said, one hand warm against my back. “How your mind never stops, how you turn problems into opportunities.”

“Even when the problems involve your long-lost mother?”

He stilled for a moment, his heart beating strong against my cheek, then resumed our dance. “Especially then. You make me believe everything will be okay.”

I laid my head on his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. “It will be. We’ll find her, Hunter.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “Because I have you.”

A commotion in the lobby broke our moment—a baby’s happy gurgle echoing off pine walls, a woman’s laugh I’d knowanywhere and sound of rolling luggage on hardwood, familiar footsteps.

Hunter’s face lit up, hope replacing shadows. “Is that...?”

We hurried to the lobby where Taylor stood with baby Chad in her arms, his tiny hands reaching for the dancing light through the stained glass windows. Van beside her carried enough baby gear for a small army, looking exactly like a devoted father should.

“Surprise!” Taylor beamed, though her eyes were already filling with tears.

The sight of my best friend, Hunter’s sister, made my own eyes sting. But it was the look on Hunter’s face—joy warring with vulnerability, love, and loss all tangled together—that broke my heart.

“Taylor...” His voice cracked as she rushed to hug him, somehow including me in the embrace. Baby Chad cooed between us, his small warmth a reminder of life continuing.

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