Page 42 of Almost Ours
“And first place goes to…” The pause felt cruel. “Team Sugar Shanty!”
Cheers erupted from the other side of the tent. Connor stood frozen, staring at the stage as if the words hadn't fully registered. Then his shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the snow between his boots.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought we were gonna win. I messed it up.”
My stomach twisted. I crouched beside him, keeping my voice low. “Hey, what? No, Connor. You didn’t mess up anything.”
His eyes filled, blinking fast like he was trying to swallow it all down. “Dad always said if you don’t win, you lose. And losers… losers don’t get second chances. They’re failures.”
Jesus. I felt that like a gut punch.
I reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Connor, that house was amazing. You built something fun, creative, and you worked your butt off. You didn’t lose anything today–not really. You just didn’t win this one contest. That doesn’t mean you failed. And it definitely doesn’t mean you let anyone down.”
His lower lip trembled. “But we tried so hard.”
I nodded. “And that matters more than you think. Winning’s great, but learning how to lose with grace–that’s what makes someone strong. You didn’t quit. You gave it your all. That’s what I’m proud of.”
He looked up at me then, his brows pinched like he was working through it in real time. Slowly, his shoulders uncurled and he nodded once. “Okay.”
I gave him a small smile. “Next time, I think we go with marshmallow shingles. That’s what did us in.”
Before Connor could answer, Shane sauntered over, shaking his head dramatically. “I did some recon,” he announced. “Turns out the winning house? Built by the judge’s granddaughter.”
Connor blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yup. Total scandal. I expect the town gossip page to be all over it by morning.” He crossed his arms, voice full of mock outrage. “I mean, the gumdrop symmetry on yours alone should’ve sealed the win. Travesty.”
Connor giggled, the sound a little hesitant at first–but real. “That’s not fair.”
“Life rarely is, my man,” Shane said solemnly, then leaned in. “But you know whatisfair?”
Connor tilted his head.
Shane pulled a snowball from behind his back like a magician revealing a trick. “Snowball to the judge’s mailbox.”
Connor burst out laughing, loud and unfiltered, the way only a kid could.
Harper stepped beside me, looping her arm around Connor with a soft smile. “You okay, bud?”
He nodded, more confidently this time. “Yeah. We’ll get ‘em next year.”
She looked at me then, eyes lingering a little longer than necessary, her smile soft but full of meaning. I just gave a quiet nod, sliding my hand into my jacket pockets as I watched Connor lob the snowball–thankfully not at any mailbox, but square at Shane’s leg.
“What the hell, kid? I’m on your side!” Shane growled, grinning as he dove for cover behind a nearby bench. “Rookie mistake.”
Connor shrieked with laughter, already preparing another one. Liam jumped in without hesitation, pelting snowballs at both of them like a little wild man.
I watched it all unfold for a second, Harper’s quiet laughter beside me, the warmth of it curling low in my chest. She looked over, eyebrows raised. “You’re just going to stand there?”
I arched a brow. “What, and get destroyed by two ten-year-olds and their backup gremlin?”
Before she could reply, a snowball nailed me right in the shoulder.
“Oh, it’son,” I muttered, bending down to pack my ammo. Connor squealed and darted behind a tree. And then it was chaos.
Snow flying everywhere, muffled laughter echoing between bursts of playful shrieks and poorly aimed throws. Shane pretended to trip dramatically, Liam took him down with a victory cry, and Harper–well, she was sneakier than expected,landing a perfect hit right to the back of my neck while pretending to adjust her glove.
“Cold enough for you?” she called sweetly, a smirk tugging at her lips.
