Page 103 of Falling For You

I shook my head, laughing. “I still can’t believe your bid was so high.”

“I guess that’s what happens when you don’t return my calls or texts. I had to get your attention somehow. Besides, it was for a good cause.”

I laughed, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt content.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Violet

Thanksgiving at Honey Leaf Lodge was always a bustling, noisy affair, filled with the smells of roasting turkey, warm spices, and my family’s laughter as we all gathered to celebrate. This year, though, things felt different.

A good different.

A lightness in the air made every sensation more vivid, spreading a feeling of peace over the place.

And then there was Owen, sitting at the dining room table in the middle of it all. He was being kind and laughing at one of Beck’s ridiculous stories and looked at ease.

Owen had come to Buttercup Lake with an agenda, but now he was part of my life, and if I were honest, part of my family.

He’d been spending more time at the lodge since we reconciled, getting to know everyone better.

My parents, my siblings—they’d all welcomed him in despite everything that had happened.

I wasn’t sure how they’d react initially, given that he’d almost been part of the deal that could’ve torn our family apart. But Owen had won them over in his quiet, steady way, and now, watching him joke around with Beck and Liam, it was hard to imagine a time when he hadn’t been a part of this.

“I’m just saying,” Liam said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. “Next year, we need to have a pumpkin pie eating contest. I think Owen here might give me a run for my money.”

Owen chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I’ve seen how much you can eat. I think I’d end up regretting that one.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Fifi chimed in from across the table, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot cider. “He’s bluffing. Liam’s never met a pie he couldn’t finish.”

We all laughed, and the sound filled the room. I just sat back and watched the scene before me, letting the warmth spread through my chest.

I had always wanted this—family, love, and a sense of belonging that living in the city couldn’t give me.

And now, with Owen here, it felt like I had everything I needed.

I caught his gaze across the table, and he gave me a soft, almost private smile. My heart skipped a couple of beats.

It was hard to fathom how far we’d come.

Despite all the odds, we’d found our way back to each other, and it was better than I could have ever imagined.

As the conversation flowed around us, I excused myself to help our mom with the final touches on dinner. She was busy stirring a pot of mashed potatoes, humming quietly as she worked.

She wouldn’t let my sisters or me help much with the main course. She’d said we did enough of that the other 364 days of the year.

We both turned around and saw some smoke coming from the toaster oven.

“Oh, crud. Can you open the window? I forgot I put the Brussels sprouts in there.” My mom laughed, shaking her head.

“I’m telling you, Mom,” I said, leaning against the counter, “apart from your nearly burning the house down, this is the most relaxed Thanksgiving we’ve had in years.”

She smiled, not looking up from charred green balls. “It feels that way, doesn’t it? I think we’re all just thankful for how things turned out. With the land, the lodge… everything. I was worried there, but we have much to be grateful for this year.”

I nodded, my heart swelling with gratitude. It wasn’t just about the land—it was about the people who had stood by us and helped us save it.

And it was about Owen, too.

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