3. Josie

3

josie

I t’s been eight years since I’ve been to the Owens Ranch, and as I drive down the long, winding gravel driveway to the cabin where Wyatt and Lucy are staying, nerves swirl heavily in the pit of my stomach.

I never thought I’d be here again after Wyatt left. Truly, I never thought I’d see Wyatt again either.

I come to a stop in front of the small wooden cabin at the back of the property, surrounded by large oak trees, branches heavy with a blanket of fresh snow.

My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I exhale a deep, stuttering breath, gathering my nerves and trying to quell the wild thrash of my heart.

This is nothing.

I can be around Wyatt without those old feelings getting in the way.

We’re doing this for Lucy, and that’s the only reason that he agreed to the competition in the first place. I also couldn’t tell her no, not when she looked at me with those puppy dog eyes.

I turn the car off and grab my purse from the passenger seat, then reach for the door handle before I second-guess this entire thing and lose the little courage I’ve gathered.

Once I step out onto the thick, fluffy snow, I hear the front door of the cabin open, and then I see Lucy run out, wearing a pair of reindeer slippers and matching pale pink pajamas with Wyatt close on her heels, an exasperated expression shadowing his handsome face.

I bite back a grin.

I think it’s entirely perfect that Wyatt ended up with a sweet, darling girl who constantly keeps him on his toes.

“Lucy, get back in here. It’s freezing out,” Wyatt calls, and Lucy skids to a stop on the front porch, huffing an annoyed sigh.

“Daddy, it’s just right here ! I have my shoes on,” she retorts, a hand on her hip.

I wouldn’t necessarily consider slippers as shoes, but I’m not getting between these two. Plus, it’s entirely too much fun to witness this little bundle of energy sassing her dad.

Wyatt’s brow lifts, and he jerks his head back toward the house wordlessly.

Another dramatic, drawn-out sigh, and she lifts a hand in a quick wave to me, giving me a toothless grin. “Hi, Miss Josie! Bye, Miss Josie!”

She slips past her dad and disappears back inside the cabin, and I can’t help but laugh.

Wyatt drags his large palm down his face and laughs too, shaking his head. “That girl. I swear, she’s gonna give me gray hair one of these days.”

I shrug with a grin. “Seems about right. If I remember correctly, you were the same way, Wyatt Owens. Your grams and papa had their hands full.”

His smile widens, and a flurry of butterflies erupts in my stomach.

My heart still battles with this version of Wyatt. Older and more mature than the boy I once knew, time only making him impossibly more attractive.

Carefully, I walk up the snow-covered stairs to the cabin. Even with my boots that are made for the weather, the boards are slick and wet beneath the soles.

A large palm appears in front of me, and I lift my gaze to meet Wyatt’s stormy amber eyes.

I hesitate, mostly in some small act of self-preservation because I don’t trust myself when it comes to this man.

“Take my hand, Josie girl,” he murmurs, the gravelly tone of his voice washing over me, causing goose bumps to erupt on my skin, even beneath my thick sweater and coat. That’s the power Wyatt has over me—a simple handful of words can cause such a visceral reaction.

I think I may have underestimated how difficult it would be working together in such close proximity.

After a rough swallow, I slowly slide my hand in his. It’s warm, rough, and calloused, familiar in a way that makes my heart ache. He leads me up the porch, and once the threat of me falling is gone, he drops my hand and sweeps his arm out, gesturing me inside.

“Wow,” I say as I step over the threshold, my gaze flicking over the inside of the cabin. “It looks amazing, Wyatt.”

He chuckles from behind me, much closer than I realized, and I whip to face him. His shoulder dips as he reaches to help me out of my thick coat. “Been a while since we were last in here, huh?”

His face splits in a cocky smile, the unmistakable flare of heat flickering in his whiskey-colored eyes.

Realization rushes me when I think back to that time, my cheeks burning at the memory.

Oh God.

Flashes of that night flit through my head, the crackling fire… the soft wool blanket, and the deliciously wicked things he did with his tongue, wringing pleasure from my body until I was limp in his arms. The guest cabin on his family’s ranch was always a place we snuck away to when we didn’t want to be found.

Suddenly, his thumb brushes along my bottom lip, unlodging it from between my teeth.

“One of the best nights of my life,” he murmurs as he gently finishes slipping my coat off my shoulders and hanging it behind him on the rack.

I try to push down the memory, even as I recall every scrape of his stubble, the feel of his rough palms as they ghosted along my heated flesh.

I toe off my wet boots and leave them next to the other shoes.

An array of his boots, pink tennis shoes with butterflies, and princess dress-up heels.

“Miss Josie!” Lucy exclaims, sliding along the hardwood and nearly colliding with me. “I’m so excited you’re here! And you brought the list, right?”

I nod. “Of course.” I lift the small folder in my hand and smirk. “We’ve got lots of planning to do if we’re going to win this thing.”

Her eyes twinkle with excitement as she nods. “Yes, and I already told Daddy that he’s got to make us his famous hot chocolate. I think my best when I have hot chocolate.” She taps her temple.

Wyatt laughs. “She does.”

Goodness, could she be any cuter?

Her tiny fingers lace with mine, and she tugs me into the living room. There’s a fire burning in the large fireplace, the flames crackling and popping as they flicker. The raw wood mantle is decorated with photos of Lucy and Wyatt, the love between the two of them so powerfully evident that it tugs on my heart. There’s a handful of handmade decorations from his daughter next to the photos, handprints made into reindeer, small painted figurines, a homemade garland made of popcorn.

This little girl clearly has him completely wrapped around her little finger.

“Here, we can sit here!” Lucy says as she plops down onto a deep red pillow on the floor in front of the coffee table. “I already got crayons and colored pencils and construction paper from my art stuff.”

My lip curves, and I nod, walking over to sink down beside her, putting my bag next to me. I love that she’s so excited that she’s carefully thought out and planned exactly what she thinks we would need.

“So, the first thing on the Christmas List this year is… the festival of trees. That’s down at the town hall. Every team gets to decorate one of the trees that are around town. There’s a ton. The city plants a few new ones every year, and by Christmastime, they are ready to be decorated. Oh, and next… building a celebrity snowman. We have to build a snowman based on our favorite celebrity. That’s fun!” I waggle my eyebrows at Lucy, who giggles. “Wow, there’s a ton of fun stuff on here.”

I list the events off one by one, and with each one, Lucy gets more and more excited. She’s full of energy, bouncing on her knees, hanging on to each word.

“How about you start brainstorming team names for us? You can draw your ideas in pictures.” I say.

She nods. “Yes! I can come up with the best team name ever .”

Grabbing the construction paper, and crayons, she immediately sets in to work, her brows drawn tight in concentration.

Wyatt watches from the doorway, leaning a broad shoulder against the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his face. “Josie, wanna help me with the hot chocolate?” he murmurs.

“Sure,” I say with a small smile, rising to my feet and following after him. I absolutely do not let my gaze drop to the tight, faded Wranglers he’s wearing and admire the way they hug his ass.

Definitely not.

I probably should’ve stayed put next to Lucy on the floor because being alone with him is likely not good for my heart or any other part of my body.

Especially when my mind keeps recalling in vivid fashion the nights we spent in front of that very fire as teenagers.

“You good, Jos? Your cheeks are flushed,” Wyatt says as he pulls a set of green mugs out of the cabinet and sets them on the reclaimed wood counter.

“Yes, just a little… hot in here.”

His lip tilts into a lazy grin. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you the other day, but I just wanted to thank you for doing this for Lucy. She’s had a rough time this year, and while she’s excited to be in Strawberry Hollow with her grandparents, I know relocating around the holidays is hard on her. Seeing her this happy… it means a lot.”

I nod. “Of course, Wyatt. It’s nothing, truly. She’s a wonderful kid, and she deserves a special first Strawberry Hollow Christmas. I’m happy that I could do it.”

“It’s everything to me, Josie.” His voice is low as something flickers in his gaze. A wave of emotion settles in the base of my throat. Before I can respond, he continues. “This move wasn’t expected, and I hated having to pull her from her school in the middle of the year, away from her friends, the familiarity of the only home she’s ever known. But there wasn’t a choice, and I’ve been so damn worried that she would hate it here. That she would resent me for moving us here, but she’s blossomed so far, coming even more out of her shell, making new friends. I think you and your class have had a lot to do with that.”

“I’m glad that my classroom is a happy place for her. That’s all I ever want for my students. It makes me feel like I’m doing something right hearing that. God, when you walked into the classroom, Wyatt… I just, I couldn’t believe it was you .”

Wyatt nods, his throat bobbing as he holds my gaze. “I was surprised to see you too. When Lucy told me about Miss Josie, hell, I didn’t even put two and two together. I’ve been too busy with the damn ranch, taking care of my grandparents, and trying to keep everything from piling up to pull my head out my ass.”

I laugh, the sound echoing softly around the kitchen, and he smirks. “When did you decide to become a teacher?”

“My freshman year in college. I started tutoring outside of class to bring in extra money, and I realized how much I loved it and how much I did not love finance. I changed my major shortly after. I’ve always known how much I loved children, so the rest was a no-brainer.”

We made so many plans together back then. Once upon a time, we lay in the middle of a field together on the ranch, an old blanket that Wyatt had in the back of his truck beneath us, talking about all of our hopes, our dreams, and what the future looked like. I remember how the only future I ever wanted included him.

Until it didn’t.

The only bad memories I have with Wyatt Owens are the ones when he left. The ones where we couldn’t make it work. Everything that we ever did before that, every moment we ever spent together as a couple, was full of so much happiness that I constantly felt like my heart would explode.

“I think it’s a perfect fit for you, Jos. I’m glad you found something that you loved,” he says sincerely, his gravelly voice breaking through my thoughts.

I nod, pasting on a smile as I pull out the barstool and slide into it, leaning against the high back. “Thank you.” It feels strangely good to have his praise directed at me. “Um… what about you? What have you been up to for the last eight years?”

“Besides being a single dad?” he teases, arching a brow. “I’m a consultant for an oil company, so I can do my job virtually. It’s the only reason I was able to come home to the ranch and help Papa out. I’m sure you heard about the injury…”

When he trails off, I nod.

It was impossible not to hear about what had happened during my freshman year of college. Wyatt was practically a celebrity in our small hometown, on a full-ride football scholarship to one of the best colleges in the country. He was destined to play professionally once he graduated. He was so good he had scouts coming to watch him play when he was still in high school.

But then he tore his rotator cuff his junior year of college, and his football career ended in the blink of an eye.

I was devastated for him because I knew that was his dream. And I’d even thought about reaching out, but I was young and still heartbroken and didn’t think that my heart could handle it.

“Later that year, I found out Brianna, Lucy’s birth mom, was pregnant, and everything changed. I no longer had football, and unexpectedly, I was going to be a father by the time I turned twenty-three. So, after healing from surgery, I put my head down and focused on school. I knew that I had to have a way to provide for my kid, and that’s all that mattered.”

I watch as he stirs the cocoa powder into the warm milk inside the mug, his long, thick fingers curled around the small spoon. It’s comically tiny in his grip.

“Can I ask… where Lucy’s mom is?” I ask quietly.

His gaze lifts to mine, and a beat passes. I’m about to apologize for prying when he clears his throat, nodding. “We were young. Still kids ourselves. Honestly, we barely knew each other. We never dated or anything, just hooked up a few times. She decided that she wasn’t interested in being a mom. Signed over all her parental rights of Lucy over to me when she was just three months old and then went back to LA. She didn’t want to be a part of Lucy’s life.”

A sinking, heavy feeling forms in my lower stomach at the thought of anyone walking away from that sweet, freckle-faced little girl who lights up a room. I truly can’t even fathom her mother not wanting to even know her. It makes me want to pull her into my arms and hug her.

“Yeah, even after all these years, I can still read you like the back of my hand, Josie Girl,” Wyatt murmurs softly, his voice taking on a familiar tone that nearly makes me ache. My heart is a traitorous thing lately. “Bri hasn’t seen her since that day. Never even reached out or tried to contact her in any way.”

“I’m sorry, Wyatt,” I whisper thickly.

“Don’t be. She’s the happiest girl I know. Every day, she teaches me something new about myself, about life. Lucy’s surrounded by people who love her enough for what she’s missing. And to her? She’s not missing anything. “

I blink up at Wyatt. “You’ve raised an amazing little girl, Wyatt. Truly. I’ve only been around her for a short while, but that’s evident.”

He opens his mouth to reply when there’s a loud wail from the living room, followed by, “Daddddddyyyy!”

Dropping the spoon, he runs out of the kitchen, with me following so closely behind him that I nearly collide with him once we make it to the living room and he abruptly stops in front of his daughter.

Without pause, he drops down next to Lucy, who’s clutching her index finger in her other hand, a tiny drop of blood beading at the tip.

Wyatt’s eyes soften. “Oh, bug, what happened?”

Her chin wobbles as a tear slips down her cheeks, which are rosy pink from the fire. “I… I got a paper cut. It hurts , Daddy.”

“I know, baby. Let’s get you all fixed up, okay?” His tone is soft and soothing as he scoops her up into his arms, cuddling her tightly against his broad chest. Lucy sinks into the softness of his embrace, and he tightens his arms around her.

The entire time it takes to walk to the guest bathroom, I watch as he gently rocks his daughter, smoothing a large palm over her hair. It may just be a paper cut, something easily fixed with a Band-Aid, but he gives her the attention and care that she needs, never once complaining.

He carefully sets her on the counter, distracting her with a cheesy Christmas joke that makes her grin as he gently wipes away the tears on her cheeks and places the sweetest kiss to the tip of her nose. Tenderly, he wraps a heart Band-Aid around her finger, and at the very same time, I worry that the old bandages on my heart may be giving way.

If I thought that Wyatt was attractive before, it’s a dimly lit candle to the inferno of attraction that burns seeing him with his daughter. Being an incredible father does nothing for my already thawing heart.

And I realize I might be in serious trouble.