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We race first. Then we ride together, Beth with her legs wrapped around me. We end up tumbling off and into the powder at the bottom of the hill. I land on top of Beth, cradling her head.

“You okay?” I look down into sparkling hazel eyes.

“Never better.” She grins. “You gonna kiss me or not?”

How can a man say no to that?

We wrap up our sledding adventure shortly thereafter.

We’ve still got four hours left of our drive, and I want to be sure we have enough time to stop at the bookshop, where Beth said she stashed her dress for tonight’s ball. I have a black suit stowed in the trunk. As long as we don’t run into any traffic, we should make it back in time for the proposal.

I look over at Beth, who’s humming along to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and I can’t help but think about how I want to propose to her in the not-so-distant future.

She catches me staring and smiles before launching us into a conversation about the merits of an angel tree topper versus a star tree topper, and we get into a heated debate about what’s better: white lights or colorful lights.

“I’m just saying, the star is more traditional, as are the colorful lights,” she says.

“They are not! All the old-timey pictures have trees with white lights. It’s more traditional.”

“Well, it depends on the bulb size too. Big bulbs for colorful lights. Little bulbs for the tiny white lights. That’s the proper way. I don’t make the rules.”

She grins at me, and I know without a doubt I’m going to marry this woman someday. I’d rather argue with her—about Christmas toppers, light sizes, or anything—than get along with anyone else.

Chapter 36

Beth

We make it to Dash Away Books at ten o’clock. The final stop of the Christmas Dash at Valley Peak is scheduled to go until eleven, so we just might pull this off.

I study my reflection in the small mirror Ivy and I keep in the back office at the bookstore. The dress I picked out for the ball is charcoal gray and sleek. It’s got long sleeves and a high neckline with an open back.

I put on silver hoop earrings and give my hair one last fluff. The dry shampoo I’m working with needs a raise at this point.

I kept my makeup simple and did what I could with mascara and eyeliner. I wasn’t thinking I’d be needing any reinforcements at the bookstore. I’d stowed my dress a week ago because it’s more centrally located than my house, and I figured I’d be running around helping with the Dash, so I wanted to make changing outfits simple. But when I left town yesterday night to drive to Nashburg, I didn’t think I’d be back for the ball.

But Gabe made it happen . . . in a way that feels almost too good to be true. He’s out in the main part of the shop singing “Merry Christmas Darling,” one of my favorite songs.

I reach for the doorknob when a message comes in. I’m checking it as I walk out into the bookstore.

Jack

Are you almost here?

I talked to him on our drive, letting him know Gabe and I were coming and giving him some tips on how to coordinate the perfect proposal for Ivy—something private for the two of them with the option to celebrate with their loved ones afterward . . . that was my suggestion.

I tap out a quick response before tucking my phone in my small black clutch.

Beth

On our way now.

When I look up, Gabe isn’t singing anymore. He’s staring at me—his eyes drinking me in in such an all-consuming way that warmth rises up my neck.

“Do I look okay?”

He takes a step toward me.

“You.”