Page 31 of Terms and Traditions

The timber and stonework emanated stately prestige from where it sat on a slight ridge, overlooking the expansive swath of the snowcapped blue-hued Tetons and flanked by a shadowy sentinel of evergreens. Strings of white-and-red Christmas lights capped the gables and wound around the front deck railing. Warm light spilling through the expansive front picture windows dazzled the darkening sky. “I think calling this a cabin is majorly underselling it. The fact that we were going to Jackson should have been my first hint.”

Stephanie huffed, tugging on her sweater sleeve. “Hiram has expensive taste, so for him this is a cabin.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. Millionaire.”

Maybe, but I didn’t own ritzy woodland cabins big enough to house a few football fields in a high-end elite town. I hadn’t been born into money, and I didn’t see the need to change my way of life extravagantly just because I had it now.

Stephanie blew out a breath. “You ready?”

“You trying to scare me off? Because it’s too late for that.”

She bit her lip and sighed. “They’re ruthless, Nash. Like sharks smelling blood in the water. Watch your back. Remember, Nana, Hailey, and Gabe and Ivy’s family are the only allies once you step in those doors.”

I offered her a lighthearted salute to make her smile. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ve alerted my lawyer for my last will and testament should I not make it back alive, and Emmett and Ryan will inherit the company.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. And Ryan doesn’t even work for you.” But her lips twitched, so I called it a win. “Oh… and I should mention…” Her eyes were full of apologies as she looked up at me. “This is my first Christmas with my family since I started working for you.”

“Making me public enemy number one?”

She winced, but I took her hand, lacing our fingers. A bit of warmth compared to the nippy breeze. “Don’t worry, Steph. I figured this might be a bit uncomfortable, but we’ve got this. I’m in your corner. It’s why I’m here.”

In a flash, Stephanie was up on her tiptoes—height difference was a thing for us—brushing a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you.”

Words ceased to exist in my brain, and all I could do was squeeze her hand. Stephanie was a petite woman, and her hand was small in mine. Nerves and hope danced across her face as she peered up at me. I smiled reassuringly. I’d face a lot more than my business nemesis on his home turf to have her thank me like that again. But for now, it was time for our Christmas performance. Because it’s fake. For now.

“Showtime, darlin’.”

It took two trips to the door with luggage and then we just stood there. Hesitating. Like whatever was on the other side couldn’t hurt us from out here.

“Nash,” Stephanie whispered, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

“Yeah?” My name sounded far too appealing on her lips.

“Welcome to the Addams Family Christmas.” She flung open the door, and my ears instantly rang with the noise.

Chapter thirteen

Nash

The buzz of the house was electric, seeping out from every corner. If I hadn’t already decided cabin was a generous term for the place, the open-concept layout with an expansive mezzanine above confirmed it. And the décor… Wow. It was like someone took all the décor of nostalgic ‘90s Christmas movies and splashed it into one house. Garland, green and gold, warm incandescent lights, and was that tinsel? No minimalistic beige here, and nothing at all like the billionaire cabin chic I expected from Hiram Addams. Let that be a lesson to me on judging by appearance.

It was cozy and familiar. And was that…? I sniffed. Yup, definitely potpourri and hot mulled cider. For a brief moment, I was transported back in time to another Christmas. When, for a few years, my mom and I lived with her parents. Their Christmases were like this. Magical and… welcoming.

A wintery cartoon played on the living room TV, entertaining a gaggle of children clustered around it. I squinted—huh, an animated snowman singing about summer. I had so many questions about that. Two kids pelted up the stairs, shouting, “Humbug, humbug, humbug!” Okay, they were clearly Scrooge fans in this house.

But against the homey backdrop and the delicious heat from the monstrous grey stone fireplace, heated arguing boiled out from the kitchen at the back of the cabin. That was more what I’d expected from the Addamses.

I rested my hand on Stephanie’s lower back in a show of solidarity and support, ushering her ahead of me. And not a moment too soon because I barely caught a breath before a shrill shout erupted. “Auntie Steph!”

Before I could blink, Stephanie was mauled by four kids—two boys with wheat hair and azure eyes, a dark-skinned girl with dozens of small braids, and an olive-skinned toddler with her shiny ebony hair pulled into two fountain pigtails. All four chattered over each other, throwing their arms around their aunt. I’d seen Work Mode Steph the last two years, Friend Steph over dinners and board games with our friends, and Casual Steph in the car. But Family Steph? Her hazel eyes sparkled as her nieces and nephews clamoured for her attention. She ruffled hair, kissed cheeks, and entered into their world with such ease I could barely believe this was the same woman who lived in heels and pencil skirts.

“Stephie!” a booming voice called. A tall man built like a linebacker approached us, and I immediately recognized him as the Marine from Stephanie’s pictures.

Still swarmed by kids, Stephanie managed a saucy salute. “Captain Carson. At your command, sir!”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Dork.”

The four kids squealed and released their aunt just in time for Gabe to sweep Stephanie into his arms, his tanned face full of affection.

Her laughter bubbled out as she returned the embrace with equal fervour, although her petite frame practically disappeared next to his. When he set her down, she patted his biceps. “Still keeping up the big guns, Staff Sergeant sir?”