Chapter Twenty-two

Mira had promised a huge part of this year’s Christmas Day to her parents, and she didn’t want to disappoint them, especially when this would be their last Christmas in the old house. And Wade was scheduled for lengthy video calls with Petey and his parents that day, too.

But Christmas Eve? Now that the Christmas Village’s future was secure, the rest of Christmas Eve was all theirs.

Maybe next year, Mira thought, they could be together the whole time. They could do Christmas Eve with one set of family and Christmas Day with another, but they wouldn’t have to split up.

Had she really only met Wade this week? She already didn’t want to imagine her life without him—and even more than that, she already felt like she would never have to.

They had decided to spend the night at her place. Wade’s was bigger, but they wanted both cats, and Bigfoot didn’t take well to being transplanted. Fiona, on the other hand, loved playdates: she had bounded out of her carrier and immediately started batting one of Bigfoot’s toys around. She had slowly drawn him out of his shell, and the two had apparently become fast friends.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything too festive for us tonight,” Mira said to Wade. “Everywhere we go, people have been offering us hot cider or eggnog, and all I can do is beer or Diet Coke.”

“You’ve been run off your feet lately,” Wade said. “I’m not going to judge you for not having stocked up on plum pudding and roast beast. But I did bring something ....”

He motioned to his overnight bag. She hadn’t imagined it having anything more than a change of clothes and a few of Fiona’s toys. What else had he managed to fit in there?

Wade laughed at the obvious curiosity on her face and reached down to the bag. He pulled out an insulated container and unzipped it, showing Mira the chilled bottle of champagne waiting inside.

“Ooh,” Mira said. She could already feel the bubbles rising inside her. She hadn’t had good champagne in years, not since her podcast Patreon had launched and she’d bought a bottle in its honor. “What are we celebrating?”

She went into the kitchen to try to unearth some champagne flutes, which she could swear she had also bought with that first rush of Patreon money, so she had her back to Wade and was digging through the cabinets when he said:

“Well, a lot of things, I guess. Christmas. Your new job offer. Saving the Christmas Village. Meeting each other.” He took a deep breath. “On my side ... knowing for sure that you’re the love of my life.”

Mira had known they would talk about this sooner or later, but she hadn’t expected it right now. And something about his exact words—so achingly sincere!—sounded more specific than she would have imagined. He wasn’t just saying he loved her. What he was saying felt like so much more than that.

She felt a flicker of what she had when she’d finally understood about shifters. There was something magical here.

Something more than she had ever understood, even in a life stuffed full of romance movies.

She turned around slowly. Wade’s face was full of hope and love, and she was half-tempted not to ask for any clarification at all and instead just pull him down to the kitchen floor. They could figure the rest out later.

But she had to know.

“What do you mean?” she said. “You sound like you ... like you know even more than I know.”

That little confession made Wade’s eyes shine like stars.

“I hope you knew,” he said quietly. “I thought you did. I’m starting to think everyone around us might be able to sense it a little, even.”

“But you can do more than sense it. You know .”

“Shifters call people like us ‘true mates,’” Wade said. “Or ‘fated mates.’”

Her whole heart seemed to perk up inside her, Wade’s words hitting it like lightning. “Or soulmates?”

“Or soulmates,” Wade said. “When a shifter meets the person who’s right for them—the person they fit with, and always will—the shifter knows.” He stepped closer and put his hand on her cheek. “Time stopped when I met you. And I knew, right away. But I didn’t know that you would, so I thought I needed to play it cool.”

He had never needed to do that.

“But I didn’t let you,” Mira said, so overwhelmed by joy that she couldn’t help the ear-to-ear smile spreading across her face. “I wasn’t exactly being cool myself.”

She laced her hands together behind his neck and leaned against him.

They were meant for each other. They belonged together.

She had watched a lot of love stories over the years, and now she knew for sure that she was in her own. They would have a whole life together, and they would watch Christmas in Connecticut (maybe she could have him guest-star on her podcast?) and play chess with one of his hand-carved sets. The cats would try to knock over the pieces. She would be the Lady of the Winter, and he would be Snow, for as many years as the kids needed them. Oh, she was totally taking that job now. Their cabin in the mountains next year would have to give them a snowy New Year’s Eve instead. She’d been given a Christmas miracle, and suddenly she wanted to spend her life making them possible for everyone else, too. Opening their eyes to love stories and the fun of the season.

But they could get to the future day by day. For now, it was Christmas Eve, and she was going to wake up with him on Christmas morning. That was more than enough to get started with.

“I love you,” Wade said, looking down at her.

Mira thrilled to the words like they were her new favorite Christmas carol. “I love you too.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth. “Want to make love until it’s Christmas?”

Wade kissed her back in a way that showed her just how good he thought her proposal was.

“Although,” Mira said when the kiss finally stopped—when she was sagging against him to try to stop her knees from giving out completely—“I don’t know what we’ll give each other for Christmas after that.”

“More love,” Wade suggested, passing her a flute of champagne.

She was happy to drink to that and even happier to kiss to it. She didn’t care if it went on so long that all the bubbles fizzed out of the champagne. He was the only celebration she had ever needed—and he’d brought her the best Christmas she’d ever had.