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Imogen laughed. “Yes, you can tell your friends.”

“This is so cool,” Katie said, her eyes shining. “I’m going to be the best big sister ever. I’m going to help with everything. I’ll be so responsible, you’ll see. I can⁠—”

She stopped mid-sentence, her expression suddenly shifting to concern. “Wait. Will you still have time for me? Like, for our special Mom-and-Katie time?”

“Always,” Imogen said firmly, pulling Katie close again. “Katie, listen to me. Having a baby doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less. You will always, always be my first baby. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Cross my heart.” Imogen made the gesture they’d been using since Katie was little enough to copy it. “This baby is going to be so lucky to have you as a big sister. To learn from you and look up to you.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.” Imogen smiled.

Katie seemed to consider this for a moment, then her smile returned, even brighter than before. “I’m going to teach the baby everything! And I’ll protect them, like big sisters do. Nobody’s going to mess with my little brother or sister.”

Lincoln laughed, reaching out to ruffle Katie’s hair. “I believe it.”

Katie looked between her parents, her expression turning thoughtful. “You know what? I’m really glad Lincoln’s my dad now. Because now the baby gets to have the best dad ever right from the start. I had to wait, but the baby gets him from day one. That’s pretty cool.”

Imogen felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. She looked at Lincoln and saw that his eyes were suspiciously bright too.

“Come here,” Lincoln said, his voice rough with emotion. He held out his arms, and both Imogen and Katie moved into them, the three of them coming together in a tight embrace around the kitchen table.

“I love you both so much,” Lincoln murmured.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, and Imogen felt a sense of peace settle over her that she hadn’t felt in days. Katie was still talking, her words tumbling over each other in her excitement, planning out everything from nursery decorations to what games she would teach the baby to play. Her joy was infectious, filling the kitchen with an energy that made Imogen’s heart feel too big for her chest.

This was her family. Her beautiful, perfect family.

Imogen tilted her head back to look up at Lincoln, and he bent down so she could whisper in his ear, her voice too quiet for Katie to hear over her own enthusiastic chatter.

“I think this Christmas, I’m the most blessed woman on Earth.”

Lincoln pressed a kiss to her temple, his arms tightening around her. “And I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Imogen leaned into his arms, feeling her happiness overflow. This was everything she’d ever wanted.

And she’d never had a more perfect Christmas.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Layla had spent the entire day avoiding her parents.

She’d walked aimlessly through town, her feet carrying her past the tavern and the bookshop and the town square with its enormous Christmas tree. She’d stopped at the library and pretended to browse the shelves for over an hour. She’d gotten coffee and nursed it until it went cold. She’d even considered going to Artisan Chocolates to see Imogen, but the thought of explaining why she was hiding from her own parents was too mortifying.

By the time the winter sun began its early descent, Layla knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to go back to Hearthside Cottage and face them.

But it wasn’t just her parents she’d been avoiding, if she was being honest with herself. It was Christopher too.

The memory of her one-sided conversation with her mother made her stomach twist with shame. And Christopher had been standing in the doorway, hearing every word, seeing Layla shrink back into the person she’d been before she came here, the person who couldn’t stand up for herself or for the things she cared about.

What must he think of her? Did he believe she agreed with her mother? Did he think she’d been lying to him, pretending to start to care about Fir Tree Grove when really she was just counting the days until she could leave?

The thought made her chest ache. She’d been so embarrassed by her parents’ behavior, by their obvious disdain for Christopher’s beautiful bed and breakfast. She’d wanted to defend him, to tell them they were wrong, but the words had stuck in her throat like always.

Now, as she climbed the porch steps of Hearthside Cottage, Layla felt like she was walking toward her own execution. She’d managed to avoid them for an entire day, but she didn’t think she could avoid dinner.