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Her eyes glisten. “And it’s really nice to meet you, Joshua Levine.”

I tighten my hold on her hand as we shake. It’s the first time I’ve felt her skin in over a year. You’d think after so long, my feelings for her would have dulled or faded.

They haven’t.

If anything, they’re even stronger now.

This isn’t the Wynter I shared my bed with last year.

This is the woman she fought to become.

“If it’s not too forward, can I take you out?” I ask, keeping her hand enclosed in mine. “And your beautiful daughter, too?”

“I’d really like that.” She chokes out a laugh, pulling her hand from mine. “When were you thinking?”

I slide an arm around her waist, careful of Hannah. “How does right now sound?”

She tilts her head back. “It sounds perfect.”

Her lips meet mine, and I sigh into her kiss.

But like everything else, this kiss feels different.

Like she’s finally shed the woman everyone forced her to be and I’m kissing the real Wynter Hayes.

For the past year, I thought the hardest thing about falling in love with Wynter would be learning to let her go.

Turns out, it was trusting that if we were meant to find our way back to each other, we would.

My mother was always a firm believer in Christmas miracles. Said it was a special time of year when anything was possible.

I never really bought into any of that.

Until now.

Because there’s no doubt about it.

This is my Christmas miracle.

Maybe that’s the thing about Christmas magic. Maybe it’s not about getting what you wished for. Maybe it’s about getting what you need.

And as Wynter’s fingers curl into my jacket and Hannah sleeps peacefully between us, I realize I don’t need to wish for anything else.

I have everything I need right here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WYNTER

One Year Later

I weave through the crowds, murmuring apologies as I sidestep a family taking pictures beside an oversized toy soldier and narrowly avoid being run over by a toddler wielding a candy cane.

I crane my neck, scanning the crowd for two familiar faces. One tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a smile that still makes my knees go weak. And one tiny blonde girl who has recently discovered the joy of saying no to everything.

Spotting them near the candy booth, I start toward them, then stop short when I spy my brother a few feet away.

It’s not unusual. Bennett still bartends at Holley Ridge on the weekends.