Things seemed surreal. I guessed after spending so long wanting something—someone—that when it finally happens, I almost didn’t believe it was happening. I kept waiting to wake up…but it was real.

Kyler loved me.

He’d been gone by the time I woke up yesterday, but the slight scent of the cologne he wore and the outdoorsy scent that was uniquely his lingered on my pillows. He’d left me a note, saying that he’d be back over, and that he would use the front door when he left.

Right after lunch, he’d shown up and he hadn’t left until after dinner. My parents hadn’t seemed surprised to see him, and they also seemed happy to see the change in our relationship. Mom had been pro-Kyler-and-Sydney since we we’d been in high school, so seeing us together was probably making her year.

It sure as hell was making mine.

“Honey.” Mom laughed, drawing my attention. “What are you doing?”

Frowning, I glanced down and then I laughed outright. I’d stacked three pieces of caramel on top of one pretzel. Plucking them off, I set them aside. “Whoops.”

“Uh-huh,” Mom said with a knowing look on her face. “Your head is just not attached to your shoulders.”

“Nope,” I admitted, arranging the pretzels and candies on a baking sheet. “I probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You have to.” Mom washed her hands. The kitchen smelled of the stuffing she’d made to take with us. “Your grandfather will hit someone with his cane if we don’t have these candies.”

Not doing this was almost worth seeing my grandfather chasing people down with a cane. I popped the candies in the oven, setting the time for three minutes, long enough to get the chocolate and caramel all gooey.

“So…” Mom began, staring out the window above the sink. Blue-tinted shadows grew longer across the snow as the sun set. We’d have to hit the road soon, since we had to drop some of the food off at church before heading to my grandparents’.

I arched a brow, waiting.

Mom grinned. “You and Kyler seemed awful chummy yesterday.”

Here we go. “Mom, people don’t say ‘chummy’ anymore.”

She pinned me with a look as she wrapped tinfoil over the large bowl of stuffing. I was sure it wasn’t sanitary to make stuffing for the turkey the night before, but my family had been doing it for years. “I use it, therefore people use it.”

I grinned.

She sighed. “Are you going to fess up?”

“Fess up to what?” I asked innocently.

Mom crossed her arms.

I giggled. “Kyler and I are…together.”

“I figured that much,” she said dryly. “But I’d prefer to know the details.”