The Royal Bed and Breakfast loomed like something out of Transylvania, dark, shadowy and silent when Marley parked in the side lot. If she hadn’t already seen the welcoming interior, she wouldn’t even get out of the car. Motion detector lights flared on, illuminating the walkway and dozens of spiky evergreens as she carried her sleeping son inside.

Through the glass doors of the informal living room, Dooney, in a flowing black ball gown, her pale blonde hair caught with sparkling combs at the sides, saw her and wiggled diamond-laden fingers. In front of a glowing fireplace, three others joined her around a low card table. None was dressed as lavishly as the countess.

With a smile and a nod, Marley climbed the stairs to her room. Regardless of her eccentric wardrobe, Dooney had been nothing but hospitable. The bedroom was cozy and warm, the covers turned down on both beds, and a royal-crested chocolate lay on each pillow.

“A girl could get use to this.”

She settled Braden for the night and readied for bed, but her brain wouldn’t shut down. Today had been like a moment out of time, a day when she’d barely thought about the trouble she was in. For one whole afternoon and evening, she’d felt like herself again, only better. Thanks to Wyatt.

The kiss they’d exchanged hadn’t come as a surprise. It was a natural progression from their romp in the pecan grove, and if he hadn’t made the first move, she might have, an urge that troubled her.

Not all men were honorable. After Braden’s father, she questioned her judgment, probably would for a long time.

Maybe she wasn’t honorable either. Maybe she shouldn’t be thinking romantic thoughts when her life was in such disarray.

She’d been less than truthful with Wyatt from the beginning. Even now, she let him believe her anxiety was due to a custody battle with her ex. She felt horrible for deceiving him, especially after today. She longed to tell him every ugly detail and ask for his help. He was a computer wizard. He might be able to find things she couldn’t. But he was also a right or wrong kind of man?

She couldn’t take the chance. Braden’s welfare came first. Always.

---

Wyatt stretched out on the queen bed in his old room, arms folded behind his head, content and happy. Today had been a good day.

His family had teased him unmercifully when he’d come back inside from seeing Marley to her car. He hadn’t minded. When Ace had said, “I think brother’s got a new crush,” he’d played the military card and replied, “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

The whole family had hooted like owls. And he’d retired to his room.

Marley was special, and he hadn’t felt this way about a woman in…forever. But neither of them was in town for long. He’d head back to Georgia and then on to wherever Uncle Sam decided to send him next. Marley would resolve her custody issue one way or the other and go back to her home. Where ever that was. Funny that she’d never told him exactly where she’d come from or where she lived when she wasn’t hiding out from her ex. The “family in Oklahoma City” story had been a lie he was still sorting out.

There was so much he didn’t know about her.

He considered a computer search but rejected it. A relationship couldn’t be built that way. Distrust. Sneaking around behind her back. He wanted her to willingly share her life with him. To trust him.

The day’s events did a slide show through his head. Marley laughing as she’d dodged pecans. Marley chasing him through the trees, making him laugh almost too much to escape. Her reaction to the horses, the woods, the ranch in general. Her intuitive understanding of him and his job.

She hadn’t badgered him with questions. She’d listened the way he usually did, and her acceptance had him wanting to tell her everything. Even about the Dallas problem. If he didn’t release that particular stressor pretty soon, it would eat a hole in his guts. Government business he could keep to himself. Cyber warfare was a matter of national security, but it wasn’t personal. Family business was. More personal than anyone could imagine.

He took his phone from the night stand and stared at Marley’s number. Could a man fall in love in a matter of days?

Then, before he did something stupid, he put the phone away and tried to sleep.

---

Early the next morning, Wyatt logged into the ranch computer and accessed his remote files. Cloud storage and a monstrous password kept the information safe from accidental discovery. Only he knew where to find the potentially explosive data.

He typed in, “Dallas,” added a fifteen-figure password and clicked a link. Some part of him hoped he’d dreamed the whole mess, but there it was, big as Dallas.

He snorted at the unintentional pun, though he wasn’t the least amused. Since arriving home, he’d stayed away from his research, but now, he dug deeper, praying to prove himself wrong.

Christmas was only a couple of weeks away.

A few more clicks and he was knee-deep in information, reading, scanning, pulling out details to add to his personal files. Each was a lead that sent him elsewhere. Every single one led him back to Dallas and the tale he couldn’t seem to escape.

Footsteps sounded in the hall. The office door opened. Quickly, Wyatt logged out.

“Top secret?” Ace came in and propped a hip on the corner of the desk. “Or Christmas shopping?”

“Something like that.” Wyatt swiveled the desk chair. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“A new custom-made Cook saddle would be nice, if you’re asking what to get me for Christmas.”

“Little late for a custom job, but I’ll pass the word to Marisa. How’s it feel to be spending your first Christmas as a married man?”

“Amazing. Still humbled that she could love me after everything I put her through. God is merciful.”

Wyatt picked up a pen and rolled it between his palms. “Did you ever wonder why Dad didn’t remarry after Mom died? He was young.”

“Just between us, I used to think he and Connie would get together.”

“She loved him. I think we all saw that even if we never talked about it.”

“And Dad loved her in his own workaholic way, but Mom owned his heart. He never got over her.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s true.” But was it?

“What brought that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Holidays. Visiting the Sanctuary. Just thinking about family a lot lately.”

“Our family? Or Marley’s?”

Wyatt tossed the pen on the desk. “I don’t know. Family in general, maybe.”

“That’s about as vague an answer as you can give,” Ace said. “Ever since you’ve been home, I’ve thought something was up. You sure you’re okay?”

“Lot of stuff on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, but thanks.” Not yet, anyway. I don’t want to break your heart.

Ace juggled a paperweight. “You gonna see Marley today?”

“Tonight. We’re taking Braden to the Christmas farm.”

The paperweight plopped into his palm. He pointed it at Wyatt. “You’re falling for her. I recognize the symptoms.”

“Nah. Her life is here. I belong to the U.S. Army.”

“Doesn’t have to be that way.”

True. It didn’t. Which dropped another live grenade into his lap.

---

Marley spent a frustrating morning at the library. To her great disappointment, nothing seemed to be happening with the tips she’d sent the police. If they’d followed up the leads at all, they hadn’t made an arrest. She knew because she scanned the arrest records online every day.

She was still the only suspect.

After a quick check of Braden, who’d stopped complaining about the daily jaunts, she spent the next hour searching the flash drive files. Again she’d come up empty.

Leaning back in the chair, she came to a conclusion.

She simply did not have the knowledge or skill to find a needle in a haystack of numbers. But she knew someone who did. If she dared asked.

She ejected the flash drive and pocketed it.

As she did each day, she logged into her email, hoping one of her friends had sent positive news. Though she never responded, she’d received several messages of support and the promise that they’d keep her posted. The emails gave her hope that someone in Tulsa was working on her behalf.

Six messages waited in her inbox. She opened the one from her lawyer, expecting progress on her case. He urged her turn herself in. She deleted him.

The next message bore an unfamiliar heading and looked like spam. She started to delete but clicked it open first to be sure. Huge, bold letters screamed off the page.

BACK OFF! IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU AND YOUR SON, YOU’LL STOP DIGGING NOW!

Marley’s whole body went stiff. Fight or flight adrenaline kicked in. With shaky fingers, she logged out, then rushed to where Braden happily rolled Hot Wheels over a ramp made from books.

She grabbed his arm. “We need to leave.”

He got up slowly, puzzled by the alarm in her voice. “Mommy?”

Realizing she was close to panic, Marley loosened her grip and tried to calm down. “Time to go, sweetheart.”

This time, her tone sounded normal. But her insides quaked with the implication that Braden could be in danger.

Holding tightly to his hand, she rushed out of the library and once inside her car, locked the doors.

She was spooked. Never had she needed a friend as badly as right now. The temptation to phone Wyatt loomed large.

The frightening email rolled through her head. Whoever sent the message must be the embezzler. How could they know she was searching for clues? A guess? Or had the police questioned the right someone from her list? Were they close to an arrest? And most importantly, was Braden in danger?

Whatever the answers, she made up her mind. No more internet searches. No more tips to the police. Not until she knew exactly who she was up against, and that could only come from the flash drive.

By the time she arrived at the Royal B & B, Marley had regained her composure. The person who’d emailed couldn’t know where she was. She was safe here.

But not in Tulsa.

All the more reason to stay in Calypso for the time being.

In the foyer, she and Braden encountered Dooney plundering through Christmas decorations in giant plastic tubs. Lots of tubs.

Marley gave her best imitation of someone without a worry in the world.

“Anything we can help you with?” How did she sound so casual when she was scared silly?

“I truly don’t know.”

Today, the countess had dressed down in a fur-trimmed jacket over a tan knee-length dress, the hem also trimmed in dark fur. Marley felt like a beggar in her leggings and long flannel shirt.

“Jimmy Swinson has been my handyman and gardener for years, but the poor man is the hospital. He tumbled off Nadine Ringwood’s roof yesterday and broke a hip.”

“That’s awful.”

“The worst. Poor soul.” She held up a strand of green garland, stuck it back in the box. “As if that wasn’t bad enough to cause dyspepsia, my cleaning woman quit without notice.”

Marley’s heart jumped. An idea sprouted. “I could clean the house. I can help with the decorations, too, if you’ll show me what you want done.”

Dooney looked taken aback. “But you’re a guest.”

“A guest who needs a job.” She was here to stay, at least until the embezzler was caught. With her rapidly shrinking cash flow and Christmas presents to purchase, any kind of pay would be a blessing.

“Are you applying?”

“If you’re hiring.”

The countess tapped a bedazzled finger against her smooth cheek. “Let’s have tea and talk.” She winked at Braden. ”And perhaps some hot cocoa for the young master?”

An hour later, a newly employed and thoroughly relieved Marley tackled the list of household chores and put aside one of her worries. No matter what happened, whether she was caught and sent to jail or managed to prove her innocence, she’d be able to give Braden a happy Christmas.

Dooney, for all her fancy clothes and obvious wealth, worked alongside her, chatting about her Christmas experiences in the late count’s ancestral European home and telling stories of hobnobbing with nobility that made them both laugh. She didn’t even seem to mind a four-year-old pawing through her fancy decorations. When Braden draped silver tinsel around his neck, held a star over his head and pranced through the room proclaiming himself to be a Christmas tree, the countess laughed and joined him in the charade.

As crazy as her life had become and as frightening as today’s email, Marley couldn’t help being cheered.

She had a job, a new friend, a place to live, and a date tonight with a man who made her toes tingle.

The dark cloud pressed in. She pushed back. If only for this moment, she refused to worry about the rest.

---

Twin Hope Miniature Farm was a Christmas wonderland on a rural road outside Calypso and only a few miles from The Triple C Ranch. Tonight in the falling darkness, cars and trucks parked along the country road and in a nearby pasture while dozens of people wandered the acreage. Multi-colored lights lined the barbed wire fences and looped over gates, casting a cheerful, welcoming glow over the venue. Lacy, lighted snowflakes sparkled from the eaves of every building, and a huge golden star radiated from the top of a red barn.

Boots crunching on gravel, Marley held Braden’s hand on one side while Wyatt lightly supported her elbow on the other. Her son’s eyes were stretched as round as Oreos as he took in the lights and activities.

“This place looks amazing,” Marley said.

“They expand all the time. Most of this is new to me too.” Wyatt pointed. “There’s our star.”

Our star, he’d said. The shared memory of last night under the stars softened something inside her heart, made her feel connected to him. “Will we find the baby Jesus inside the stable?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.”

At the gated entry two teenage girls in elf costumes collected a small fee, both of them casting not-so-subtle looks and excessive smiles at the clean-cut soldier. If Wyatt noticed, he didn’t let on. He paid, took the offered brochure and guided them deeper onto the property.

“You had a couple of admirers,” Marley told him as soon as they were out of hearing range. She glanced back. Heads together, the girls stared after her and Wyatt, giggling.

“It’s the uniform.”

“Which you aren’t wearing tonight.”

He glanced down at his jeans and boots, then grinned at her. “Oh.”

Laughing, Marley bumped him with her side. The Caldwell men were all strong on looks, but Wyatt’s lighter eyes and hair set him apart. She liked the difference, just as she liked his modesty. He could swagger if he wanted to, with his strong, angular jaw and all those muscles, but he didn’t.

Deflecting any further talk of the admiring teens, he tapped the brochure in her hands. “Where to first?”

Marley stopped next to a flood light to read.

“According to this, that building is Santa’s workshop and it includes a gift and snack shop.” She gestured to a small, portable building. “And apparently, there’s more in the barn. A nativity, pony rides, and a petting zoo.”

“Choose your pleasure.”

You. But she didn’t say that. She was crazy for even thinking it. “All of it sounds great. You lead, we’ll follow.”

They ambled through the crowd, stopping frequently when someone recognized Wyatt. He received handshakes, thanks for his service, and local news and gossip, all of which he accepted with courtesy, if not ease. He never seemed to let down his guard. Even as he listened, those piercing eyes scanned the crowd. Was it because of his training and his natural warrior-like protectiveness? Or was there something else, some other worry bubbling beneath Wyatt’s well-controlled surface?

Marley tagged along, Braden’s hand in hers, smiling when appropriate but doing her best to maintain a low profile. The fewer people who noticed her, the better.

Every time Wyatt introduced her as Marley Johnson, she felt like a total fraud. Which she was. The name she’d pulled out of the air now screamed of dishonesty, the very thing she was attempting to escape. How could she reconcile the two? Did she really expect God to understand when she didn’t?

With a sharp bite to her lower lip, she gnawed back the concerns. She was here at the farm among this crowd of strangers for Braden’s sake. It was Christmas time. She wouldn’t let the mess in Tulsa spoil the holiday for him.

With Braden urging them along with an occasional, “Mommy, come on,” they finally made it to the barn. The interior was brightly lit, rustically decorated and divided into sections. Their first stop was the petting zoo, a large, enclosed pen of clucking chicks, baby sheep and goats, and a gaggle of excited kids directed by teenagers in biblical costume.

“They’re so cute!” Marley stuck her hand through the fence and rubbed a fuzzy lamb.

“Come on in.” A teen boy in shepherd gear came to the gate, gently shooing away the little animals to let Braden inside. To keep a close eye on her son, Marley followed. The interior was crowded, so Wyatt stood on the outside and watched over the top of the fence, an indulgent expression on his face.

One of the things she liked best about him was his patience. He never seemed in a rush, particularly with a sometimes dawdling four-year-old. She caught his eye, and he winked and nudged his chin toward Braden.

A curious goat, wobbly legs splayed, approached and sniffed at her little guy’s jacket. Braden flashed an uncertain look to Marley.

“You can pet him. He’s a good boy,” said a blonde shepherdess, her braces cutely out of sync with her flowing robe and headpiece. “His name is Jonah. He might nibble your shirt, but he won’t hurt you.”

Marley nodded encouragement and touched the goat’s back to show Braden it was okay.

Slowly, Braden extended a hand until his fingers grazed the animal’s stubby head. The goat merred. Braden jerked his hand away and backed toward Marley.

Wyatt squatted by the fence and reached through to rub the goat. “Don’t be scared. Jonah’s just talking to you. Go ahead and give him a rub.”

A serious-faced Braden nodded and edged toward the goat again. The little creature’s tail twitched. He merred. Braden blinked but didn’t move away this time.

“He’s never been around farm animals.” Did she sound defensive? Maybe. But she didn’t want anyone thinking her son was a sissy.

“He’s doing fine, Marley.” Wyatt’s tone was gentle and encouraging.

Her shoulders relaxed. Okay, she was being tiger-mom.

“I didn’t want you to think badly of him.”

“I wouldn’t.”

No, he wouldn’t. And that made him all the more appealing.

His lips curved. “So you really do live in the big city, far from critters?”

“Yes.” But not the city he thought. Which made her feel like a bigger fraud. She wanted to tell him everything, to confess the whole sordid, scary mess and ask for his council. He was smart, and he liked her. Maybe a lot. She certainly liked him.

But what if he didn’t believe her? Or worse, what if he felt duty-bound to contact the authorities? She had a recurring vision of his social-worker sister driving away with a frightened Braden buckled in her backseat.

She shivered and glanced at the ground. As much as Marley needed to confide in Wyatt, she was too afraid.

“Look, Mommy.” Braden patted the baby goat’s side. They’d become pals, the goat rubbing his head against Braden’s belly. “He likes me. Can we get one?”

She laughed. “I don’t think so.”

Before Braden could be disappointed, Wyatt moved to open the gate. “How about a pony ride instead?”

“Yeah!”

From there, they let Braden ride in the circle of ponies. He declared it fun but said riding with Wyatt to get ‘cans was better. Marley thought so too.

They stopped by the living nativity, located in the very corner end of the barn, away from the milling crowd and noise. Two young shepherds had arrived, along with a baby lamb and goat and a miniature brown cow with big gentle eyes. Soft carols played in the background as a sweetly reverent Virgin Mary and Joseph peered at the infant sleeping in a rough-hewn wooden manger.

The sight brought a thick lump to Marley’s throat. Wyatt must have felt it too. He took her hand, squeezed, and moved closer so their sides touched and she could smell the blend of his soap and feel the power of his strength. There was something special in this man, something she had yet to put a name to.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his breath tickling the hair above her ear.

She nodded. “Almost holy.”

They were quiet for a bit, even Braden, who seemed awestruck by the scene. Marley pondered that first holy night and the dangers this one baby boy would encounter, not only in the days after his birth, but all the days of his life. Emotion tightened her chest. As a mother, she was desperate to protect her son. What would she have done in Mary’s place? Run? Hide? Try to keep her son from His destiny as Savior of the world? Did Mary comprehend the unbearable things that would happen to her baby, the horror she would someday witness?

The thoughts were too hard, and Marley blinked them away along with a few tears, though these were of gratitude. Jesus gave up everything, even his glory as King of Heaven, for messed-up humans. How could she ever let Him know how precious His gift was to her?

“What manner of love is this, that we should be called the children of God.”

Marley turned her head toward Wyatt’s softly spoken words. “Is that from the Bible?”

“First John. The love book.”

“I wish I knew more Scripture.”

“As kids, we memorized verses for Sunday School every week. That one always struck me.” He patted his heart.

“Especially standing here looking at an innocent baby, knowing what horror was to come, and yet Jesus was willing to do it. He didn’t have to. He chose to. For us.”

“Humbling.”

“As a mother, and as a woman whose life was radically changed by Jesus, it makes my knees wobbly.”

His gaze rested gently, almost tenderly, on her face. “And your eyes teary.”

She blinked and the moisture collected at the corners slid loose. Wyatt saw and touched the spot on her cheekbone with his fingertip.

She tried to shrug him away.

“I’ve always been emotional. Sorry.” To a man so under control, she must look like a dork.

“Sweet tears.”

Braden looked up in alarm. “Is my mommy crying?”

Wyatt rested a hand on her son’s head. “Not sad crying. Happy tears because of Jesus.”

“Oh.” Braden stepped closer to the manger, though the way was blocked by bales of hay. “Is he real?”

The adults exchanged indulgent smiles. Marley answered. “The baby is real, and Jesus is real, but this isn’t the real Jesus.”

Braden’s face contorted into a tangle of confusion. “Huh?”

“Tough for a kid to wrap his head around, Marley.”

“For me, too, sometimes.”

The crowd thickened around them, jostling for a good view.

Wyatt jerked his head toward the exit. “Maybe we can come up with a better response as we walk.”

She laughed. “I doubt it, but let’s go.”

They exited the barn to stroll along the festive trails, talking about Jesus and the nativity. When Wyatt spoke, Braden’s head tilted upward, his attention rapt. Marley wasn’t sure he understood much, but his little brain was absorbing the wise words of a fine man.

Fine. In more ways than one.

Easy, Marley. This is temporary.

Yeah, temporary insanity.

The warning, she feared, had come too late. Wyatt Caldwell had already found a place in her head and her heart.

They followed a lane marked by tall, lighted lollipops. A wooden wagon pulled by a pair of miniature ponies and filled with rosy-cheeked riders rolled past, bells jingling from its lighted sides.

Perched on the wagon seat next to Nate were Olivia and Sophia.

Braden’s eyes widened. “The twins, Mommy! Can I go?”

Wyatt lifted a hand, and Nate reined the horses to a stop.

“Got a boy here who wants to ride with your girls. What do you say?”

“I could use another man up here. Come on up, Braden.”

Wyatt lifted Braden into the wagon. “Any room for us?”

Nate looked over his shoulder at the crowded seats. “Maybe on the next round.”

“I don’t know about this.” Marley didn’t like the idea of letting Braden out of her sight. Not after the threatening email. “Maybe he should wait.”

Nate shot Wyatt a grin. “He’ll be okay. No trouble at all. You two kids take a stroll or something. Have fun. The girls and I will look out for the little man, won’t we, girls?”

One of the twins hunched her shoulders and giggled at her dad. The other said, “Can he stay a long time and play?”

Nate spoke before Marley could. “Chelsea can take all three of you to the house to play whenever you’re ready.” To Marley, he said, “Chelsea is the best babysitter this side of the Rockies. The girls love her. She looks after them while Whit and I are working out here. They’ll be in the house when you’re ready.” He pointed toward the farmhouse fifty yards away.

“Oh. Okay.” But she still wasn’t sure.

She was overprotective. She knew she was. Understandable, considering the fix she was in. Not that either man had a clue.

Braden chuckled at something one of the twins said. The sight eased some of Marley’s misgiving. Her boy needed to be with other kids his age. There was no reason to worry. Not with Nate. Not here.

Nate wiggled the reins and jingled off, driving through a gate and down a path toward more lights. Marley watched them go.

“Hey.” Wyatt’s voice pulled her. “Are you okay with him riding without you?”

“I’m not used to letting him out of my sight, that’s all.”

“I’ll go get him if you want me to.”

She shook her head, feeling silly now. “No. You’re right. He’s enjoying himself. He’s safe. I shouldn’t fret.”

Wyatt leaned close, his voice barely a murmur against her ear. His breath tickled in a most pleasant way. “Nobody’s going to find him here. And even if they did, you’re surrounded by Caldwells. Nobody gets through us.”

Unexpected tears pushed up in her throat. Wyatt had been good to her. The lies she’d let him believe shamed her to the soul.

She clutched his hand, mostly out of gratitude and regret, but when he slid an arm around her waist, she leaned in, secure in a way she barely comprehended. A single mom without an extended family stood on her own two feet. She was good at that. Proud of it. But for once, it was nice to pretend she didn’t have to.

They continued aimlessly through the farm, stopping to look and admire or visit with someone who knew Wyatt. Kids ran around, calling out and laughing. A dad jostled a little boy on his shoulders and sang Christmas carols while the mom pushed a baby stroller. More than ever, Marley longed for family.

At the snack shack, she and Wyatt went inside. Marley hummed softly at the welcome heat and spicy scent. From behind a table of colorful Christmas cookies, Whitney waved to them.

“How’s it looking out there? I haven’t had a minute to check.”

“Busy,” Marley said. “Everyone seems to be loving it, including me.”

“Terrific. Have you seen Nate and the twins?”

“Just now. They’re with him on wagon.” Marley waved vaguely toward the outside. “I think someone named Chelsea is about to take charge.”

“Braden with them?” Whitney offered each of them a sugar cookie on a napkin.

“Yes. Taking a spin through the lights.” Wyatt nibbled at his cookie. “This is good. What’s in it?”

“Secret ingredient. Cinnamon.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not secret now.”

“A minor detail.” Whitney laughed. Her red ponytail bobbed. “Have you been out to the gazebo yet?”

“Didn’t even know you had one.” Wyatt frowned at the cookie, nibbled.

“Nate and Gilbert built it for my birthday. It looks gorgeous draped in lights and greenery.”

“Where is it? You have so much stuff out here now, I’m lost.”

“No, you’re not. Nate says we could drop a Caldwell into the Himalayas, and they’d find their way home, blindfolded.” She handed a cookie to a young girl, took her quarter and dropped it in a cash bag. “Anyway, take a left out of here and follow Candy Cane Lane.”

Wyatt shot Marley a glance. Sugary crumbs dappled his shirt front. “You game?”

She brushed the crumbs away. “Sure.”

She was trying not to angst about Braden. Staying busy helped. Being with Wyatt helped more.

They followed the path, passed other smiling, talking guests until the gazebo came into sight. The décor was simple—green garland and bright red bows on the railings, tiny white lights hanging from the ceiling and more lights outlining the roof like spokes in a wheel. Smack in the middle of the structure, a white-flocked Christmas tree shimmered with more lights.

Marley paused to admire the view. “That’s breathtaking. Like something out of a fairy tale.”

Wyatt slipped an arm around her waist, letting his hand rest loosely at her side. His body heat seeped into her, pushing away the chill. She wished he could do the same for the chill in her heart.

“Sleeping Beauty?”

She tilted her head upward, not understanding. “What?”

“A fairy tale. Sleeping Beauty. Covered in leaves.”

“Oh, yes. That was fun.” Her lips curved. Wyatt’s gaze went there.

“So was kissing you awake.”

Self-conscious, Marley joked, “I thought so too. My usual prince charming has peanut-butter breath.”

“How about cinnamon cookie for a change of pace?”

“Cinnamon. Mm.” Her pulse fluttered, a moth against her collarbone. “I think I’d like that very much.”

A slight smile on his oh, so tempting lips, Wyatt tilted her chin and kissed her. Marley experienced a mix of sensations. Warm, supple lips. Spicy, sweet cinnamon. The nearness of Wyatt’s body. The gentle pressure of his hands on her skin, touching her cheeks, her hair.

Something centered inside. A rightness, a goodness. Like finding home.

When the kiss ended, reluctantly on her part and, she thought, on his too, he leaned his forehead on hers and whispered, “I’m not usually a fast mover, but you…”

In silent understanding, she touched his cheek with her gloved hand. She’d learned the hard way not to move too fast, and yet, here she was, falling like a brick.

Maybe it was the season. Maybe it was her desperate situation. Or maybe Wyatt was as special as she thought.