Inside the house, it was noisy and chaotic—everyone had arrived, the dining room table was laden with platters and bowls and chafing dishes, Christmas carols were playing on wireless speakers, a fire roared in the fireplace, five kids were running in circles, and everyone was in a good mood. It made me so happy to see Keaton and Whitney enjoying themselves, I didn’t even care that their dinner would probably consist of cookies, chocolate, and candy canes. The adults poured drinks, filled plates, and sat around in the great room addition off the back of the house, eating and sipping and catching up. It felt so good to be surrounded by family again, it nearly put a lump in my throat.

Taking my plate over to the couch, I sat down and chatted with Meg and Noah about getting involved with a charity they loved, since I’d been on the board of several philanthropies in the past and had experience with fundraising and special events. At the bar, I spoke with Mack about the schools my kids would be attending, got the scoop on the administrators and teachers he liked and disliked. Back in the great room, I took a seat near my dad and asked him if he had ideas about neighborhoods to search for houses in, what the prices and taxes might be like, whether or not I should use an agent or do it on my own. Chloe asked if I had any time to help out in the tasting room next week, since the inn would be booked and she was short-staffed while employees were on vacation. I told her I’d be glad to.

My appetite was good, and I was back at the table for seconds of dessert when I heard a knock on the front door. My stomach jumped, and I quickly checked my sweater for spills and rubbed my lips together, hoping they still had a little color. Setting my plate aside, I went to answer it.

When I pulled the door open, I wasn’t prepared for the way my body reacted. At the sight of Henry freshly scrubbed, hair neatly groomed, scruff trimmed, wearing a dark wool peacoat and holding a bottle of wine, my face warmed and my pulse zoomed.

“Hi,” he said, his breath cloudy in the cold air.

“Hi. Come on in.” I moved aside so he could come into the house and caught the scent of his cologne as he passed by. My dormant lady parts tightened. “Can I take your coat? I promise to give it back—along with your other one—when you go.”

“Sure.” He stomped the snow from his boots and handed me the bottle of wine. “That’s for you.”

“Thanks.” Setting it on the hall table momentarily, I hung up his coat in the closet and turned to face him. He wore a thin charcoal-colored sweater over a navy dress shirt and dark jeans. “You look nice.”