“You fractured your ankle,” he said. “And that little scratch you told me about needed thirty-two stitches.”
She shook her head. She’d heard all that already. “When do you have to leave?” she asked, needing to get the worst part of her day over with. How long did she have to enjoy the fantasy of a life with Blake in it? How long until she had to say goodbye?
Blake lowered himself onto the edge of her bed with a frown. “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.” He flicked his attention to the door. “Unless you want me to.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him closer. “The case is over. You don’t live here.” She shot him with her best no-nonsense look. “Seems like the government would notice if it lost an agent.”
“Right.” Blake rubbed a heavy palm against his face. “I’m the guy who always has to leave.” He peeked remorse-filled eyes at her. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” Marissa tugged his hand away from his face. “I meant how long will you be here? You must have to get back. You have a life in Louisville.”
The worry lines slowly faded from Blake’s brow. He searched her face with eager, curious eyes. “I’d like to have a life here.”
Heat ran over Marissa’s face, towing a wide smile behind it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’ll take some time to get the details in order,” he said sheepishly, “and I’d have to commute an hour to work, but I love Shadow Point. I’ve got roots here, friends, family...” he lifted Marissa’s hand to his lips. “Maybe even a girl.”
“A woman,” she corrected. “Absolutely.”
Blake leaned closer, a moan rumbling in his chest. “Please tell me you feel well enough for a kiss.”
“I do.” Marissa’s smiling lips met his, and she found everything she’d hoped for waiting there.
* * *
CHRISTMAS EVE ARRIVED with a foot of snow. Her ankle had finally healed, but it would be spring before she dared climb another mountain or anything more dangerous than a flight of stairs.
She poised her camera against one cheek and captured another image of Kara on horseback outside their parents’ home. Large picturesque flakes made a magical backdrop to the photo. The shot would make a perfect gift for Kara’s upcoming birthday.
“Merry Christmas,” a familiar tenor called from behind her, setting her heart to sprint.
Marissa spun in anticipation of the only thing she’d prayed for this Christmas. Her smile fell slightly before she managed to recover. “Hi, West. Mr. Garrett. Merry Christmas.” She shook Blake’s brother’s and father’s hands. “What are you doing here?”
Marissa had nearly forgotten how similar West’s voice was to Blake’s. She’d spent plenty of time with the Garrett family after being released from the hospital, but she hadn’t seen any of them since Blake was reassigned to a new case three weeks ago.
Their whirlwind romance had come to a screeching halt, along with Blake’s house hunt in Shadow Point and their nightly phone calls. Though, she never fell asleep without receiving at least one email or text message letting her know he loved her. The notes were nice, but she dearly missed Blake’s voice and the feel of his arms around her. So much so, that she almost understood how the other women in his past must have felt. It was harder than she’d expected to say goodbye, and she worried about him every day until she got that little note to say he was safe.
Mr. Garrett raised a telltale gift bag meant for wine. “I brought you a little something.” He lifted a palm. “Don’t open it just yet.”
Marissa accepted the gift with a smile. “Thank you. I’ll try to contain myself.” She laughed and hooked her arm in his. “Let’s go inside. Mom’s made enough food to feed the town.”
West waved them on. “I’ll wait for Kara.”
Marissa cast a curious look at West as he headed in Kara’s direction.
Mr. Garrett patted her arm, drawing her attention back to him. “You know I took your dad shooting the other day. Beat him like a drum.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “That wasn’t how I heard it.”
“Because he lies.”
Marissa laughed as they rounded the side of her parents’ home. A new line of cars filled the driveway. “What on earth?”
“Looks like there was a reason for all the food,” Mr. Garrett mused.
“I guess so.” They climbed the wide front steps to a porch lined in greenery and twinkle lights. A trio of women from her mother’s book club waited at the door with cookie trays. “Hello,” Marissa greeted them. “I didn’t know you were coming, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
“We can’t stay long,” one woman said.
The front door swung open, and her mother motioned everyone inside. “Marissa, really. Why didn’t you let them in?”
Marissa raised her palms.
Mr. Garrett dropped her arm and headed for the kitchen. He took her bottle of wine with him.
“Help take coats,” her mother instructed.
“Sure.” Marissa marveled at the house full of family and friends. Christmas music and warm apple cider wafted through the air. Every bough on the family tree hung low with white lights and handcrafted ornaments. Proof that two tragically untalented crafters had grown up there. “Why didn’t you tell me so many people were coming?”
“Why did you think I started cooking yesterday?” She gave her daughter an encouraging smile. “You’ve been sad lately. I know you miss him. And who doesn’t like a party?”
“I’m not sad,” Marissa said.
She didn’t have to ask who her mother had meant by him. There was only one him who set fire to Marissa’s world. “I’m happy. I swear it. But I do miss him.”
“I know.” Her mom took the coats from Marissa and nudged her toward the guests. “On second thought, I can do this. You watch the door and mingle.”
Marissa opened the front door ten times in the next hour, hugging and welcoming cousins and neighbors she hadn’t seen in far too long. If she couldn’t
