With a busy household, I haven’t had much time alone with Whitney over the past two days. Lennon’s been moody to say the least, Tahlia and Lucas are struggling to find even ground with his early Christmas present, and Brady is bouncing off the walls all hours of the day.

She’s bundled under a blanket, drinking hot chocolate, talking with her friends.

“Come with me,” I say, holding my hand out to her.

“I’m cozy.” She smiles bringing the cup to her lips.

“Please,” I ask with a tone that suggests it’s really important to me.

“Okay.” She places her cup down, and stands. Tahlia grabs the blanket and scurries under it. “Tahl!” Whit screeches.

“From that look you aren’t coming back for awhile.” Tahlia points to me and then concentrates back on Lennon. “I was thinking hot toddies tonight. I’ll text Lucas to pick some cinnamon and honey while him and Jasper are in town.”

Lennon nods, but says nothing. The girl hasn’t had a drop of alcohol since we arrived. She thinks she’s fooling everyone with some bullshit about coming down with a cold. I’ve seen the girl blow her nose, cough and say whiskey would make her better. But Whit swears she’d know.

“We’ll be back before the tree ceremony,” I announce and pull on my boots and heavy jacket. Checking my pocket, I open the door for her.

“I’m not really into the whole sex under a wintery sky, babe,” she says and puts on her hat and gloves.

“If I was going to seduce you, I’d take you to the hot tub.”

“Oh, I like that idea.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’d even go naked.”

“Brady, babe.”

Her eyes roll back in her head. “Oh yeah, after he goes to bed tonight then.” She kisses my chin.

“Take a walk with me now?” I take her hand in mine, and we head down the steps toward the path I carved out with the guys this afternoon. We’ll go a little out of our way so the boys can finish up the arrangements. If it all goes as planned when the trees break at the edge of the hill, the lights will lead us to the perfect spot.

“Why a walk? I’m not really into snow sports. Who wants to be wet and cold all the time? Would you rather be too hot or too cold?”

I chuckle at her rambling and the fact there’s still questions we’ve yet to know the answers to about one another.

“I do like you wet.” I bump her shoulder and her head falls against my shoulder on her way back.

“Seems to be my norm when you’re around.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and her arms link around my waist. We walk further into the woods and all the nerves from earlier disappear. She’s my one, the one for me, and this will only adhere her into the spot she carved out years ago.

The trees open up into a clearing and there sits a picnic table with blankets, faux candlelight and a string of white lights around the trees powered by a generator the cabin guy loaned us. Bottles of my whiskey, one I made especially for today sit on the table along with some Christmas cookies.

The cracking of tree limbs echo through the dusk sky, giving away the guys presence as they head back to the cabin. She squeezes me, her eyes darting to the area of the forest the sounds came from.

“Probably just an animal,” I say to soothe her fears.

“A bear from the sound of it.”

“Come.” I lead her to the table and away from the distraction.

“It’s beautiful.” She sits down on the picnic bench, checking out the cookies on the table. Grabbing a blanket, I place it over her shoulders and pull out the mugs.

“I made a new batch. Want to try?” I ask.

A soft smile creases her lips. “Always.”

I pour us a shot worth in the mugs and place one in front of her.

She sips it and nods. “Delicious, especially after a walk in a winter wonderland.”

“I’m glad you think so because it’s our blend.” I sit down next to her, sipping the whiskey I’ve made to perfection.

“Our blend?” she asks, twisting to face me.

“Yeah, it’s a single malt with the added sweetness of vanilla. Wait until we age it ten years, it’ll only get sweeter and better.”

Understanding way more than she should about the whiskey distilling business, her whole body sinks into the compliment.

“Whit,” I say, pushing my hand into my pocket.

She shakes her head, tears springing up in them. I haven’t even fallen to bended knee yet. She’s nodding her head, sucking in her lips.

“What are you agreeing to?” I ask her and all her jittery movement stops.

Not wanting to disappoint her since she’s been waiting for this moment the last four months since Lucas beat me to it—the bastard—I fall to my knee and pull out the ring.

Holding it out in front of her, her eyes fixate on the diamond instead of my face.

“Whit.”

Her head snaps up.

“Please say you’ll agree to age with me long after my best barrel of whiskey is finished. Will you marry me?”

She nods and I take off her glove, holding the ring to her finger. “You do realize this solidifies that you’re mine forever, right?”

The brightest smile emerges on her face. “I do.”

“I can’t wait to make you my wife. You asked for it, Mrs. Whitney Webber.”

“I like the ring of that. WW, I’m like Wonder Woman or something.”

I laugh as she falls into my arms and we topple to the ground. I swiftly move her to her back and as her ring sparkles from the moon shining down from above, I get her nice and cold and wet.