Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Maybe it makes sense.
She never gave up on me. She never stopped believing in the magic of romance. She never let go of the idea that I could be better than a romance hater.
And here I am…ready to date her.
I huff out a laugh, and she stirs, stretches, then mutters a sleepy good morning.
It’s a new day, all right. And I want this whole real thing to start now. Not in San Francisco. Not after Christmas. Now.
With us doing…life. Like we did last night when we wrapped some of Mia’s gifts and put them under the tree.
“Want to walk my dog with me in the snow?”
She pushes up on one elbow. “You’re going to walk Wanda in six inches of snow?”
“Six inches? More like eight,” I say, then my gaze drifts down to my pelvis, since I’m mature like that.
“My favorite amount.”
“And yes, I am. She loves a snow walk.”
Isla shoots me a skeptical look but says, “Sure.”
A little later, we’re walking Wanda down the driveway, and she’s leaping through the snow.
“Are you kidding me?” Isla asks, her jaw agape.
“Told you so.”
“She’s like a tiny fox or something.”
“I know, right?”
“I didn’t know little dogs liked snow.”
But here she is—my little Chihuahua-Pomeranian-Papillon mix—hopping through the drifts. For all of the driveway, anyway. When we reach the end, she jerks her gaze to me and whimpers, which loosely translates to that’s enough, Dad in dog.
I bend down, scoop her up, and tuck her into my jacket. “Wanda likes short walks in the snow.”
“I like longer ones,” Isla says. “With you.”
And my heart does something funny in my chest as we walk down the street, our boots sinking into the powder, my dog in my arms.
“I want a raincheck for last night—dinner with you, Mia, and my parents,” I say.
“I’d love that.”
I can already start to see beyond Evergreen Falls. And it looks good.
Around nine, the snowplow comes by and cleans the street. It’s time to get moving. I have morning skate soon and it’s optional, since we have an early afternoon game that my whole family’s coming to. But there’s no reason to skip the game-day practice now that the roads are clear.
This evening Mia has a cookie-making class with Wilder’s daughter and her friends—her idea, her plans. That also makes it easier for me to attend the date Isla’s planned for us tonight. It won’t be a long one since the class ends at eight. But I’ll take whatever I can get since our situationship will end…wait. Nope. It won’t end. What a strange, new thought.
“Funny, how when you started planning the date for this evening, it was going to be one of our last ones,” I say, musing on the topic.
“Just this and then the gala,” she says.
“And now, it won’t be. See you after the game,” I say when we’re standing by her car door. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve planned.”
“If only you’d been quiet on the sleigh.”
I say what I said that night: “I have no regrets.”
And truly, I don’t.
After I take down the tree farm and straighten up the cabin, I pop over to the arena for morning skate, then rush to my parents’ house to pick up Mia. I won’t have much time with her, but at least I can feed my kid lunch before the hockey game.
We swing by Rudy’s since Mia likes their cheese sandwiches. The woman who runs the place seems to be fighting off a smile as I order. “And are you in the mood for dessert?” she asks, with a twinkle in her eye.
Ummm. Does she know about the night on the patio? No idea, but I shove it out of my mind as I say, “No thanks.”
I dive into a meal with Mia. She catches me up on last night with my parents, and I shouldn’t feel guilty she was with them and not me. Isla’s right—my parents want to be part of Mia’s life. But a part of me still feels bad I missed last night’s Advent calendar with her. I’ll give it to her this evening though.
When we’re done eating, she comes with me to the arena. There’s a family suite here too, like there is back in San Francisco, so I drop her off with the sitter. Tyler’s kids are here already too, so Mia’s got friends.
I go into game mode next, stretching in the gym and blasting The White Stripes. But when I head to the locker room to suit up, something nags at me. I’m not sure what it is exactly. But as I pull on my shoulder pads, an insistent sense that I forgot something gnaws at me. Wanda’s safe and sound at home with plenty of water. That’s not it. I bought my parents’ Christmas gifts. So that’s not the issue. I even left out Mia’s wrapped book for tonight’s calendar.