CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Abby

As I load a dinner plate into the dishwasher, John stands at the sink, elbow-deep in suds, battling with a casserole dish that must be putting up a good fight. Watching him like this—so determined and yet so out of place from our typical office setting—makes me stifle a laugh.

John looks up, eyebrows raised. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” I bite my lip, trying to keep a straight face. “Just marveling at how John Barrington, master of financial spreadsheets, is being bested by baked-on cheese.”

With a smirk, John flicks a glob of soap suds at me, and I yelp, stepping away quickly. “For your information, Ms. Sinclair, I’m an expert in all household duties. This dish doesn’t stand a chance.”

He renews his scrubbing effort with extra zeal, and something in me softens. My stern, exacting boss has been replaced by this playful, warm man, and my chest swells with an emotion that’s hard to name. This shift in our relationship feels unexpected but undeniably right.

Slow, Abby , I remind myself for the umpteenth time. Take things slow .

“Earth to Abby.” John holds the now gleaming dish with a triumphant grin. “Told you I’d conquer it.”

I reach for the dish, our fingers brushing in the exchange. A jolt of electricity shoots through me, and I nearly drop the dish. John’s hand covers mine, steadying it.

“Careful,” he says, his voice low and soft.

The air between us changes, the space thickening like the moment before a summer storm breaks. His eyes lock on mine, and my heart kicks into overdrive.

“John? Abby?” Maggie’s voice makes both of us jump. “Could you bring out the pies, dears?”

John drops his hand and clears his throat. “Sure, Grandma.”

As we gather dessert plates and Maggie’s prized apple pies, I can’t shake the feeling something is shifting between us yet again. The easy banter we’ve built over the day is still there, but now it’s tinged with something deeper, more serious.

We carry the pies into the living room. Every seat is taken, including the floor, except for Maggie’s ottoman and the loveseat. I wonder if this is on purpose and then realize it must be. I can’t believe that these people—these strangers—have accepted me so easily. I’ve dreamed about my family treating me this way, but I must admit I already feel more at home here than at my parents’ house, even though I grew up there.

The cozy warmth of the room and the easy laughter wrap around me like a comforting hug. This is what family should be—so different from the tension-filled chaos we left this morning. I wish Grandpa could be with me here right now. He would love this place and these people.

“Here you go.” I hand George a slice of pie.

“I was wondering if you two gave up on the dishes and ran off together,” George teases.

My cheeks heat up, but John just laughs, sliding a plate onto the coffee table. “Now, Grandpa, you know I’d never skip out on Grandma’s apple pie.”

George shrugs, grinning. “You could’ve taken one with you.”

As I make my way around the room, serving the rest of the family, Maggie calls me over to her armchair and pats the ottoman next to her. “Abby, dear, sit with me for a moment.”

I hesitate, and John gives me an encouraging smile. “Go ahead. Grandma won’t bite.”

I sit next to Maggie, who leans in, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “How’s our Johnny treating you? He’s not being too gruff, is he?”

I laugh softly, glancing at John, who is joking around with his cousin Trey. “No, not at all. He’s actually been wonderful.”

Maggie’s face softens as she nods knowingly. “I thought so. He has such a soft spot for you, you know.”

My heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.” Her eyes twinkle. “I finally put two and two together, and you’re the one he’s said is so talented and how much the clients love you. I’d guess he’s had a crush on you from day one, even if he didn’t quite realize it.”

My cheeks heat. “He mentioned something about that.”

Maggie nods, her expression kind. “Good. And, dear, you make him very happy. I’ve never seen him so at ease before.”

I duck my head, smiling as warmth blooms in my chest. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Maggie glances at John. “Don’t let him get away with too much nonsense.”

I laugh, wishing I had a grandmother exactly like her. I never knew either of mine. “I won’t.”

I go to the loveseat and sit next to John. He looks at me. “What did Grandma have to say?”

I shrug. “Just that she likes me better than you.”

He feigns shock. “Betrayed by my own grandmother.”

“Maybe if you play your cards right, you’ll earn back her favor,” I tease, and he pulls me closer.

I balance my plate on my knees, and I’m acutely aware of every point where John’s body brushes against mine. People are talking, but I can’t focus on anything but his warmth.

“You okay?” John whispers, his breath brushing against my ear and sending a shiver racing down my spine.

“Yeah,” I manage, turning slightly to look at him. “Just…thinking.”

“About your family?”

“No, actually.” I gesture around the room. “About all of this. Your family. How different it all feels here.”

John studies my face, his expression gentle. “Good different, I hope?”

“Definitely a good different.” The warmth I feel has nothing to do with the fire. “I just… I never expected to feel this comfortable here. With you and them.”

Something shifts in his gaze, a hopeful light that makes my heart ache. “I need to tell you something, Abby.”

George stands, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, folks. Time for a little post-dessert entertainment.”

Guess whatever John has to say needs to wait. John and I exchange a look that’s equal parts frustration and amusement.

Tommy groans dramatically. “Grandpa, please not Pictionary again? I’m still traumatized from last year when Aunt Tess tried to draw a pagoda.”

George waves his hand dismissively. “No Pictionary. We’re playing ‘Two Truths and a Lie.’ Everyone gets a turn!”

The room buzzes with excitement, and John nudges me. “Watch out for my Tommy. He’s only twelve, but he’s good at this—he could convince anyone he once worked as a spy.”

I laugh. “Noted. But isn’t he a little young for that?”

“Yes, but the kid can spin a yarn like no one else in this family.”

Everyone gets into the spirit of the game. Tommy tells an elaborate tale involving a celebrity romance, only for Maggie to cut in, “You wouldn’t even know what to do with a movie star.”

The room bursts into laughter.

When it’s John’s turn, he smiles slyly, clearly relishing the chance to stump people. “Here we go. Number one: I got detention in high school for skipping class. Number two: I used to play guitar in a band. Number three: I can juggle.”

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to read his face. “You? In a band? You don’t strike me as a rockstar.”

John gives an exaggerated gasp of mock offense. “I’m hurt, Abby. Truly.”

“Is the band the lie?” I press.

Lizzy giggles, and George shushes her.

John shakes his head, a satisfied grin on his face. “No. The lie is that I can juggle.”

I laugh, and Tommy shakes his head in mock disappointment. “He was a terrible guitarist.”

John points at his cousin. “Hey, I was trying my best!”

“Just like when he decided to be a champion ice skater and nearly sent me to the ER,” Grandma teases.

Laughter fills the room. When my turn comes around, I decide to make it interesting. “Okay. Number one: I once rode a mechanical bull and lasted thirty seconds. Number two: I’m allergic to strawberries. Number three: I can sing the entire soundtrack of The Little Mermaid by heart.”

John’s gaze narrows. “The Little Mermaid? Really?”

I shrug, not wanting to give anything away. “You’ll have to guess.”

He and his family deliberate. “The lie is the strawberries,” he says.

I shake my head, laughing. “Wrong! The lie is the mechanical bull.”

John throws his hands up in defeat, and Maggie laughs. “Well, dear, I expect a performance of ‘Part of Your World’ at some point.”

“Maybe next Christmas,” I say, my heart full as I look around the room, wanting to experience this family, this love and acceptance again.

As we continue playing, I laugh so much my side hurts. I’m still overwhelmed by how welcomed I am in this family. The easy camaraderie and the shared jokes feel so natural, like I’ve always belonged here.

When the game ends, John whispers into my ear, “Having fun?”

I rest my head against his shoulder. It’s a position I’ve gotten addicted to since we sat by the fire pit. “More than I could have imagined.”

“Good.”

As the conversation drifts into reminiscing about past Christmases and family memories, John whispers once again, “They like you more than they like me.”

I laugh. “Can you blame them?”

He pretends to sigh. “I guess not. But it’s a good thing you said I couldn’t get rid of you.”

Later, as we put on our coats to leave, his family says goodbye with hugs. Maggie is the last to pull me into her arms. “It’s been so lovely to meet you, Abby. Take care of each other.”

I nod, my throat tight. “I will. Thank you for sharing your Christmas with me.”

As we step outside, the cold night air hits us, and John puts his arm around my waist. “Ready to head back?”

No, but I have to for Powerfluff’s sake, at least. “Yes.”

As we step outside, everything feels so different from when I arrived here. It’s so much more than my relationship with John, even though that’s the best part of today, but I feel as if a locked door has finally opened for me, and I never want to close it again.

John gestures toward a path. “Up for a walk? The path is lit, and it goes to the lake.”

I nod, words escaping me.

As we walk in comfortable silence, our breath mingles in the cold air, forming little puffs that dissolve under the moonlight. The strings of Christmas lights lining the path cast a magical glow. The lights reflect on the snow like scattered diamonds. That gives the setting a fairy-tale feel, one set in winter, and I’m here for it.

Our feet crunch on the snow-covered path. John’s arm brushes against mine, a gentle reminder that he’s with me. And every time it happens, a flutter of warmth fills my chest, cutting through the chill.

When we reach the lake, John holds my hand and leads me onto a small dock. The water is still, a perfect mirror for the starry sky above. The constellations twinkle at us, making it look like there are stars both above and below, as if we’re standing at the center of the universe.

“It’s breathtaking,” I whisper, afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the magic of the moment.

John doesn’t say anything. He stands next to me. The silence feels intimate, and his hand tightens around mine.

“I thought you’d like this,” he says. He looks at me, not the lake, and my pulse speeds up.

John comes closer, and my breath hitches.

His expression is thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened these past two days.”

I nod, my heart beginning to race. “Me too.”

He takes a deep breath, the cool air visible as he exhales. “We’ve talked about our feelings and brought up work, but I want to discuss something practical. How do you really feel about us working together now?”

The question catches me off guard. I wasn’t expecting the conversation to turn practical out here. I look out at the lake, gathering my thoughts. “Is this what you wanted to tell me?”

“Sort of. I just have some concerns.”

Concerns, huh? “I thought we discussed this already.”

John nods. “We did, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable and have no uncertainty about anything.”

I consider his words, touched by his care. He’s prioritizing me and my comfort. Somehow, that means more than any declaration of love ever could.

“What about company policy?” I ask. “Are we even allowed to date?”

John’s lips twitch into a half smile. “I’ve already checked—more than once, actually. There’s no policy against it, but we need to disclose the relationship to HR, and you can’t report directly to me anymore.”

“That sounds reasonable. But what about everyone at the office? Do we tell them?”

John rubs the back of his neck. “We should, for transparency’s sake. But we don’t have to right away. We can wait until we’re both ready.”

He’s saying all the right things, but the best part is his sincerity behind the words. I believe him. I take a step closer, my heart swelling. “Thank you for prioritizing my comfort. It means a lot.”

He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles, and a part of me melts. “We’re partners in this. I want us to figure it out together.”

“Partners,” I repeat, smiling softly. “Not just partners in crime.”

His gaze flicks to my lips. “I want to kiss you.”

My heart thunders in my chest, and instead of replying, I close the distance between us. Our lips meet in a soft, testing kiss, but it quickly deepens as we both lean into it, his arms wrapping around me. When we finally pull away, I rest my forehead against his, both of us breathing heavily, our noses brushing.

“Another wow,” he says.

I laugh, a bit breathless. “Double wow.”

We hold each other under the stars. It feels like a dream, but everything about this—us—is real. Thank goodness.

John pulls back slightly. “I almost wish we could stay here forever.”

“Me too.”

John kisses me again. This time is slower, as if savoring the moment.

I laugh softly, unable to hold it in. “When I agreed to a fake relationship, I never imagined it would turn out like this.”

“Me neither. But I’m so happy it has.”

“Same.” This Christmas has given me so much. Not only a new romance, but the home and family I’ve always craved.

“Ready to face the real world again?” he asks.

I take a final look at the stars reflecting in the lake and then stare up at him. “Thanks to you, I’m ready for anything.”

Including facing my family.