“I can’t believe you brought me to a restaurant that’s not even open yet,” Jade murmurs, glancing around in awe. Her gaze travels over the hammered copper bar, the hand-laid slate floors, the colorful Western art on the walls, then back to me. “This place is amazing.”

“Stick with me, babe,” I joke, lifting my glass of wine. “I’ll get you into all the swankiest places.”

We’re a week from Christmas, and since Jade’s been too busy to join me for any official date involving a drive into town, I’ve arranged something better.

“Is your cousin really a Michelin-starred chef?” she asks.

“Wait ‘til you try the first course,” I tell her. “Then, you tell me.”

As if on cue, Sean shuffles out of the kitchen with two of the most amazing plates of food I’ve ever seen.

“This is bison steak cured in sake kasu, charcoal onions, and miso eggplant,” he says, setting the plate in front of Jade with a flourish. “And this here is the duck confit with spiced carrots, panisse, Greek yogurt, toasted pepitas, and just a hint of tarragon.”

“Thank you so much,” Jade breathes, looking awestruck as she picks up her fork.

“Thank you for being my test subjects,” Sean says. He smiles at her, then slugs me hard in the shoulder before turning and striding back to the kitchen.

“It’s a good thing he’ll be cooking instead of waiting tables,” I tell her. “His people skills could use some work.”

“I think he’s great,” she says as she forks up a bite of the duck. She slips it between her lips and chews, eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she says. “This is unreal.”

“Told you.” I grin and pick up my knife to slice into the steak. Jade finishes her bite of duck before forking up the morsel of buffalo I’ve just set on the edge of her plate. “Being Sean’s guinea pig doesn’t suck.”

“Were you guys very close growing up?”

I shrug and glance back toward the kitchen. “Not really. My uncle used to bring them out sometimes in the summer to see the ranch and visit us, but it always felt like they came from a different planet.”

She nods and takes a sip of her wine. “I met Bree the other day,” she says. “She seemed pretty down to earth. A little protective of you, actually.”

I laugh and slice off a tender piece of meat. “That sounds like Bree,” I say. “She’s a great person, though. All my cousins are. And it’s been nice to connect with family.”

“Do you see your dad very often?”

I nod, recalling my visit a few nights ago. The nurses had parked his wheelchair near a group of residents building a gingerbread house, and the room hummed with cheerful chatter and the tinny buzz of Christmas tunes from a stereo beside an over-decorated tree. I stood watching from a corner, studying the blank look on my father’s face.

What was he thinking? Does Christmas make him feel angry, melancholy, or nothing at all? I wish I knew. I wish I could find just one moment of connection.

“I visit a few times a week,” I tell Jade now. “More for me than for him. I honestly don’t think he knows I’m there at all.”

“I’m so sorry, Brandon. Truly.” She reaches out and touches my wrist. It’s just a light brush of her fingertips, but somehow it feels like a full-body hug.

“For a long time, I blamed my mom,” I admit. “For walking out the way she did. For causing my dad’s stroke.”

“Oh, Brandon.” Her voice cracks on the last syllable, and I wonder if I should stop talking.

But this conversation is too important. Getting to know each other like this, with all our clothes on—this matters. To me, to Jade, to what we’ve been building together. I’m not sure I realized until this moment how true that is.

“Sometimes, I blamed him, too,” I admit. “For smoking too much and drinking too much and the fact that all that shit probably contributed.”

“To the stroke or your mother leaving?”

“Both.” I give a hollow little laugh and rearrange my napkin on my lap. “I guess no matter how you look at it, I didn’t have the best role models for health and happiness and relationships.”

Jade touches my arm, and this time, she leaves her hand there. “Is that why you’ve never gotten married?”

The question startles me. From the look on her face, I think it startled her, too.

“I wasn’t trying to be nosy—” she begins, but I cut her off.

“You’re allowed to be nosy, Jade.” I lean a little closer. “We’re together, right? Dating? Seeing each other?”

I let those words hang between us, hoping I haven’t gone too far. That she sees this as a relationship or something close to it. That we’re not just fooling around here.

She takes a sip of wine, and I hold my breath, not sure how to read the guarded look she’s giving me.

“Yeah,” she whispers at last. “I guess we’re seeing each other.”

I grin a lot wider than I probably ought to from such a simple answer. “So I don’t mind if you ask personal questions.” I clear my throat, trying to remember what hers was. “Right. Uh, I guess what happened with my folks probably messed me up for a while. Made me frustrated about Christmas, about relationships—about a lot of things.”

“You say that like it’s past tense.”

“I want it to be,” I say. “I’m working on it. You’re helping.”

Her cheeks redden just a little, and she takes a sip of her pinot gris. “How so?”

“I can’t do holiday cheer the way most people spin it,” I say slowly. “The Christmas sweaters, the bubbly greetings, the cheesy cards.”

She looks at me oddly. “You have something against all that?”

“No, but it’s not me. It doesn’t click for me the way your ribs did.”

“Uh, what?”

I grin and pick up my wineglass. “Your tattoo. The Grinch’s heart growing so many sizes it breaks the magnifying glass. That’s what I want. What I’ve been feeling lately.”

The flush in her cheeks grows deeper, and she looks down at her plate like she’s not sure what to say next. She pokes at a carrot, chasing it around her plate with the tines on her fork. “You have the same effect on me,” she murmurs.

When she lifts her gaze again, her eyes seem shimmery. Maybe it’s the candlelight, maybe it’s the weight of this conversation we’ve been having. Whatever it is, I feel it, too.

I reach across the table and catch her hand in mine. “What do you say, Jade? Want to be my girlfriend?”

She gives a very un-Jade-like giggle. “Is this like in middle school?” she asks. “Are you going to pass me a note that says, ‘will you go with me?’ and I have to check the right box?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Do you want me to?”

She tilts her head, considering that. “Maybe. I never had that before.”

“I’ll add that to my to-do list,” I promise. “In the meantime, what would you say? Wanna go steady?”

She giggles and dabs a corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Yes,” she murmurs, beaming at me from across the candlelit table. “Definitely yes.”

After dinner is done, I lead her back to my cabin along the snow-lined path I shoveled earlier this evening. The air is icy and crisp and smells like pine, and a faint breeze sends our breath swirling around us in foggy puffs.

“Dinner was amazing,” Jade says, gripping my hand a little tighter. “I promise I’ll recommend it to everyone I know as soon as the restaurant opens.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” I let go of her hand a little reluctantly, needing both of mine to unlock the door. I push it open and survey the living room, thrilled to see Bree followed through with the other half of tonight’s plan.

“Oh,” Jade gasps as she steps over the threshold. She turns in a slow circle, taking in the dozens of candles lining counters and tabletops and little knick-knack shelves on the wall. There’s even a candle propped on one of my old football trophies, which Bree must have dug out of storage somewhere.

“It’s beautiful,” Jade says as she turns back to me. “My God. A fire hazard, but beautiful.”

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “Bree buys these fancy, expensive fake candles that look just like the real deal. They flicker and look melty and everything, but there’s no fire at all.”

Jade looks around again, stepping into the center of the living room. I’m used to seeing the space, but I consider it through her eyes. Everything’s bathed in a golden light, making the cedar walls glow like embers. Even the caramel-hued leather sofas look luminous in the middle of a red wool rug, basking in the glow of the fireplace. At the other end of the room, the live-edge, lodge-style table is dotted with so many tiny candles that the wood grain ripples like heatwaves.

“So this is how the other half lives.” Jade turns to face me. “No wonder you like it here.”

“Yeah,” I say, closing the gap between us. “Beats the hell out of sleeping on hot sand with a gas mask.”

“You did that?”

I nod once. “During a gas attack alert in Iraq, yeah. And in Syria I slept on the iron claddings of a tank to stay warm sometimes.”

Jade shakes her head, her expression a little sad. “I’m glad you made it out okay.”

“Me, too.” It’s not just that I’m glad to be alive. I’m glad to be alive right now, in this moment, with Jade. “Did I tell you I put in for the job at the recruitment office in town?”

“No, that’s great. I mean—is it?”

“Yeah.” I smile. “It means I’d be sticking around. My cousins even agreed to sell me this place if I want it.”

“That’s terrific,” she says. “Can I have a tour?”

“Definitely.” I catch her hand in mine and lead her down the hall, trailing my fingers along the cedar railing my cousins finished by hand. “You have to see the bathroom. They’re like this in all the cabins we’re building.”

I draw her into the spacious room and point out the hand-carved stone pedestal sink and the two-headed shower done in hand-laid river rock. “Bree hired a group of artists from the Warm Springs tribe to hand paint the frames on all the mirrors,” I explain as I point at one. “The two women who did this one are some of the only tribe members who still speak their native language.”

“It’s amazing,” Jade says, stepping closer to study the artwork. Geometric slashes of red and black fringe the edges of the mirror, but that’s not what I’m looking at. I’m watching the reflection of those lake-blue eyes in the mirror. Seeing Jade’s pleasure makes my heart squeeze, and so does the reverence in her voice. “I didn’t realize—everything’s so beautiful.”

“They’ve paid a lot of attention to detail. And the water system is all LEED certified, so it’s very environmentally friendly.”

She turns and gives me a small smile. “I didn’t know it would be like this,” she says. “I guess I pictured something totally different for a rich person’s resort.”

“I’m glad you like it. They’ve worked hard out here.”

“You, too,” she says. “You’ve been helping, right?”

“Some. I’m mostly just grunt labor. The vision is all theirs.”

Jade smiles and reaches for my hand. Her expression has turned coy, and I’m not sure what’s on her mind. “So where’s the bedroom?”

I grin back and try to ignore the fact that my dick just lunged at the front of my jeans. I’m just glad we’re on the same page. That Jade is as glad as I am to finally have this time alone. “Right this way,” I say, leading her down the hall. “Did I tell you about my billion-thread-count sheets?”

“You did,” she says. “But I really think that’s the sort of thing I’ll need to experience firsthand to appreciate.”

I laugh and pull her into my arms, leaning back against the massive footboard to keep us steady. “And you said you can’t flirt.”

“I’m working on it,” she says. “Learning from the expert.”

“In that case, let me show you one of my advanced moves.”

She laughs as I grab the hem of her sweater dress, inching it up her thighs as slowly as I can, even though I’m dying to just rip it off. “You’re so beautiful, Jade,” I murmur as I kiss her. “And mine.”

I half expect her to recoil at the possessive chauvinism in my words, but instead, she smiles. “Prove it.”

God, I’m really liking Flirty Jade.

I yank the dress up over her head, baring her to me. Tossing it aside, I take in the sight of her standing before me in red satin bra and panties. She’s still wearing the tall black boots, and I scoop her up and toss her back on the bed so I can pull them off.

“The zipper is a little tricky,” she says, gasping as I kiss my way along the inside of one thigh. “It’s on the back of the boot. Careful, they’re Amber’s.”

I growl and tug the zipper on the right boot. “I hope Amber is okay with her boots witnessing what I’m about to do with you.”

“What are you about to do?” She grabs hold of my shirt and tugs, pulling it over my head in a tangle of static-filled wool.

“Everything.” I strip off the boots and shoulder her thighs apart, kneeling on the floor in front of her. “Everything I’ve been wanting to do since I first laid eyes on you.”

I tug off her panties, dying to taste her again. She gasps as I slide my tongue up the length of her, taking my time reaching her clit. The second I do, she cries out. “Brandon.”

I’ve never heard a woman say my name quite like that, and it sends a fresh surge of need throbbing through me. I circle her with my tongue, loving the way she writhes and gasps under me. I can’t get enough of her.

“Please,” she pants, digging her fingers into my hair. “Please, Brandon. I want you so much.”

This time, I’m prepared. I fumble open the nightstand drawer and pull out a condom. In three seconds, we’ve got it out of the wrapper and we’re rolling it on in the best damn show of teamwork I’ve ever seen.

I kick my jeans to the floor and slide my body over hers, groaning with the silkiness of her bare flesh against mine. I want to savor this moment. I want to record every sigh, every whisper, every intake of breath as I dot kisses over one breast and then the other.

Jade reaches down between us, more impatient than I am. “I need you inside me,” she breathes, urgency glittering in her eyes. “Now, please.”

“I love when you beg.” I move over her, holding her gaze with mine, breathing her in. Slowly, oh so slowly, I slip inside her, groaning as her slick, snug walls clench around me. “God, you feel amazing.”

She moans in response and tilts her head back, baring her throat to my lips and tongue. I kiss her there, savoring the sweetness of her skin and the soft smell of ginger. I start to move, going slowly at first. She’s so wet I nearly lose my mind, but I want to savor this. I want to experience every fucking second of it like this is my first time making love to a woman.

In a way, it is. It’s not just my first time with Jade. It’s my first time with anyone who’s made me feel like Jade does. My brain is buzzing, and my body hums with pleasure as I drive into her, then back again. She lifts her hips and meets my rhythm, moving with me as candles flicker on the shelf above the headboard. The room smells like cinnamon and sex, and it’s all I can do to keep my head from spinning right off my neck.

“Jade,” I gasp, sinking all the way into her before drawing back to do it again.

She arches up against me, urging me on. Her thighs hug my hips and those arms—those glorious, muscled arms—clench firm and strong around me like I knew they would. Her soft little moans in my ear are almost more than I can take. I’m spiraling out of control, and I’m not sure how much longer I can last.

“Oh, God!” she cries out, and bends like a bow. Everything tightens around me at once—thighs, arms, the very center of her—and she unleashes a primal scream.

“Brandon!”

That’s all it takes, and I’m chasing her right over the edge, driving into her again and again until we both lie spent on my billion-thread count sheets.

“Come here,” I murmur, pulling her against me so I can nuzzle her hair.

Her body is limp and pliable, but she snuggles against me, fitting herself into the crook of my arm like a puzzle piece that’s been missing. Her fingertips rest over my breastbone, and several minutes pass before we catch our breath.

“That was—wow,” she says.

“My thoughts exactly.”

She cuddles closer, then props herself up on one arm to peer down at me. “Can I confess something?”

“As long as it’s not an STD.”

She smacks me on the chest and rolls her eyes. “Way to ruin the moment, Brown.”

“Just going back to what you said the last time we were naked together.” I grin and grab the hand that smacked me, planting kisses on each fingertip before resting it back against my chest. “What did you want to confess?”

“I used to think about this,” she says. “Back when I was fourteen or fifteen and you were this untouchable, sexy stud I’d see prancing out there on the football field.”

“I never pranced.”

“Trotted, then.” She waves the hand I just kissed, giving me the urge to do it again. “Sashayed. Whatever the hell football players do.”

I smile and plant a kiss on her shoulder. “I wish I’d known you then,” I admit. “I wish I’d had a chance to be with you.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that didn’t happen.”

“Uh…thanks?”

She smiles and repositions herself so her breast isn’t trapped in my armpit. I stroke the tips of my fingers over her shoulder blade, tracing the edges of the delicate wing. “Back then, I wanted you because of what you stood for,” she says. “Popularity. Perfection. A chance to feel cool.”

“I wasn’t that cool.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Because now, I want you for you. For the guy you actually are, instead of the guy in my head.”

It is the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. Ever, my whole life. My chest tightens like fingers curling into a fist, and several seconds pass before I can get any words out.

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m glad, too. That we waited. The version of me you’re getting now is a much better guy than the one you would have gotten thirteen years ago.”

“Good.”

“Not to mention my stamina has improved considerably.”

She laughs and falls back onto my chest, snuggling closer. Her breathing slows, and after a few minutes, she goes lax in my arms. I lie there stroking her back for a long time, breathing in the juniper scent of her skin and the gingery scent of her hair and wondering how the fuck I got this lucky.

I’m not sure how long it is before I drift off, but I know we bolt awake at the same time. There’s a pounding from somewhere, and it takes me a second to figure out it’s in the living room.

“That’s the front door.” I sit up blurry-brained and rumpled as Jade pulls the sheet around her breasts and blinks at me in the candlelit semi-dark.

“Is it one of your cousins?” she asks.

The front door thunders again. “Jade! It’s me, Jade, open up.”

“Amber?” Jade leaps out of bed like it’s on fire and scrambles to pull the sweater dress over her head. It’s inside out and crooked, but she gets her arms through the right holes and is halfway to the door before I’ve gotten my boxers on.

I’m five steps behind her, thundering through the living room still wondering what the hell is going on. Jade flings the door open, and snowflakes skitter over her bare toes as an icy wall of air knocks me back.

“Amber?” Jade’s voice comes out in a rush. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

The instant I see Amber’s face, I know. I know something awful has happened. There’s no color at all in her cheeks, and her eyes are wild with fear.

“Someone left the gate open again,” she says. “The gate to the south pasture.”

I remember what they said about reindeer and land fidelity. That they won’t wander, preferring to stay close to home. I hope to God that’s right.

“They don’t like to leave, right?” I ask, willing it to be true. “You said they won’t get out.”

“Right,” Amber says, shaking her head. “But other animals can get in.”

The words hit me like mortar blast to the chest, and I watch them register on Jade’s face.

“Cougar,” she whispers. “How bad?”

“Bad,” Amber says. “You need to come quick.”