Page 30 of A Mustang River Christmas

“I was trying to have forever with somebody who wasn’t everything. And in the end, he really screwed me over. Made it so I didn’t believe in love. Or maybe, what he did was confirm to me that I didn’t need to worry about it. And I’m not sure I should’ve given him that much power.”

“You can have it all too,” Chloe said.

Laney pressed her palms to the counter. “I’d like for that to be true.”

And for the first time since she and Pete had split up, she really did mean that.

It wasn’t an especially busy night in the dining room, and so when Pike appeared in the doorway and Chloe smiled at her conspiratorially, she frowned.

“You can go,” Chloe said. “We have it. And I can expedite service and make sure that everything goes smoothly.”

“Do you know what’s happening?” she asked Chloe.

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe.”

She took her chef’s coat off and walked out of the kitchen, and Pike was waiting, holding a picnic basket. “I have plans,” he said.

“What plans?”

“You’ll see.”

He took her hand and led her outside into the crisp December evening. Fat snowflakes were falling, and it was freezing cold. He held her hand as they walked down the path that led to the barns that housed the gingerbread houses and the Christmas trees.

The Christmas tree barn was still lit up in spite of the fact that everyone was gone, and as he brought her inside, it felt extra magical with all the dark cold out beyond the walls, and the glimmering warmth inside.

The main lights were off, and the only glow came from the trees.

There was already a blanket set up on the floor in the middle of all those trees, like an indoor enchanted picnic amongst the glimmering lights and ornaments.

“What is this?”

“I called in a favor,” he said.

“With who? Mayor Carey?”

He grinned. “What can I say, she’s a fan of mine.

“Does Walker know that?”

Pike smiled. “He knows that. I don’t really have any designs on his woman.”

“Does he?”

“Yes. Because I only have designs on one.”

Her mouth went dry, her heart fluttering.

Was this...? Could this be something more than just physical? Even wondering that made her feel foolish. Made her feel small. Scared, even.

Because, of course, she wanted it to be more. But she was also scared of it. Because she really didn’t know if she could have everything.

But she wanted it. She really did.

He sat her down on that blanket, and began to unpack the picnic basket. Of course, everything inside was of the highest quality. Glorious meat and cheese and some crusty bread. A bottle of sparkling cider. He poured two glasses for them, and she sat there, bathed in the Christmas light glow.

“Chloe was talking to me about Christmas earlier,” she said.

“Was she?”