Page 36 of A Moon Lake Christmas Hero

She took that information with a poker face, unlike any I’d ever seen. Her non-reaction told me she knew who was behind it or at least had her suspicions.

Though Bailey assured us that nobody could know exactly when or where the brakes would fail.

But that didn’t matter. Somebody wanted her injured or dead.

And she didn’t share who.

Which made me furious.

I’d studied her file. Contacted the PI to have him deepen the investigation. There had been an ex-boyfriend. I was still waiting for info on him, though all of my instincts screamed at me it was taking too long.

After the conversation with Bailey, she spent little time at home and as much time as she could at Alan and Jessie’s, or in town.

She’d settled in, made friends, and worked her way into the heart of our community at lightning speed.

Like she’d worked her way into mine.

I saw her once or twice through the window having breakfast at the Black Cat Cafe. Meeting Jessie or the other girls.

Having fun. Living.

Those were the times when doubt set in. My need to protect her felt like an obsession even when she’d made it clear she wanted distance.

I needed to move on like she had.

I looked up when I heard my girls squeal. They’d settled into the living room on the floor by the fire with Abby and Marley’s favorite book.

I watched them from the kitchen while I was cooking spaghetti with meatballs—Marley’s favorite—and tossed together a quick salad.

And like every time I watched them play or talk, I could taste the palpable longing on the tip of my tongue to have her, to make her mine, to make her part of our family.

How would it be to spend Christmas with her? To have her smile at me when she opened the present I got for her? Or when she’d admired the girls’ presents?

Her soft, melodic voice had the twin in a trance. They’d never had that—someone filling in as a mother figure—taking time and interest in them.

Their giggles made my heart heavy and soar at the same time.

I promised her space. Promised to give her time, and that’s what I was doing.

Even though it was slowly killing me.

I missed the way I felt when I was with her.

Understood, seen, and worthy.

How long could I keep going on telling myself I was playing the long game until she would come around? How long could I keep on keeping my distance, waiting, watching, and falling in love?

Wait, what?

My wooden spoon cluttered to the floor, and Erin looked over her shoulder at me—one eyebrow raised in question. I didn’t need to hear her voice to know exactly what she was thinking. Are you okay? Do you need anything?

I shook my head, then exhaled.

Falling in love.

I was falling in love.

More every day.

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