Page 17

She gives me a smile. “After the new year, I plan on sleeping for an entire week.”

“Who are you kidding?” Bennett jokes. “You’ll probably sleep in one day, then come up with some other project.”

“I will not,” she says, feigning indignation. “I’ll at least sleep in for two days.” She gives Bennett a wink.

“Text if you need anything else,” I tell Claire before turning to Bennett. “See you later.”

“Sure thing. And if you see Wynter again, tell her she owes me a goddamn phone call.”

“You got it.” I chuckle and head out of the bar, cutting through the bustling hotel lobby and out onto the festival grounds.

I weave through the crowds toward the row of booths Claire mentioned. Sure enough, when I check the heaters, the tanks are empty. Once I grab a few replacements, the units fire up immediately.

Since swapping the tanks took less than ten minutes, I head back toward the inn to finish the barstools. But as I do, a familiar figure strolls along the path ahead.

I’ve spent the last decade seeing Wynter on television beside her husband, the star football player turned coach.

Right now, she looks nothing like the woman I’ve admired from a distance.

Her dark hair falls loosely past her shoulders, her face bare of the heavy makeup she typically wears. Instead of jewels, a designer dress, and heels, she’s wearing a sweater dress and knee-high boots that make her legs look endless.

But that’s not what has me unable to tear my eyes from her.

It’s her expression.

Everyone around her is admiring the lights. Or the Christmas tree. Or the rows and rows of booths.

Wynter isn’t looking at any of it.

She’s staring straight ahead, like she’s somewhere else entirely. Like she’s deep in thought. So much so that she doesn’t notice the curb and trips, her body pitching forward and hitting the ground. Hard.

I rush toward her before I realize my feet are moving, shouldering people aside. When I reach her, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts without looking up. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, and I…” She trails off as her eyes find mine.

But she doesn’t push me away.

And I don’t release her.

For a heartbeat, I forget she’s married.

Forget she’s my best friend’s sister.

Forget every reason this will never become anything more than a fantasy.

But all fantasies eventually come to an end, and she pushes out of my hold. “Thanks.”

I nod, pulling my gaze away from hers. As I do, I notice blood trickling from a gash on her knee.

“You’re bleeding.”

She follows my gaze, sucking in a breath. “Shit.”

“I have a first-aid kit in my office.”

“Your…office?” Her brow creases. “You work here?”