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She nodded and headed toward the kitchen, weaving through the cheerful jumble of her family. When she returned with a tall neck bottle of beer in hand, he stood slightly apart from the others, engaged in easy conversation with her sisters’ partners, Brad and Ethan. He held himself with a quiet confidence that made him seem effortlessly at ease.

Ruth handed him the bottle. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” His fingers brushed hers briefly as he took the beer.

Ruth stepped back, pretending to adjust a garland on the mantel while taking the opportunity to observe him from the side. He laughed at something Brad said, the sound low and rich, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that softened his sharp features. She wasn’t used to feeling drawn to someone like this—unexpected, unbidden.

Before she could dwell too long on the feeling, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, well,” Sophie said, sidling up beside her. Ruth turned to find her sister grinning, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “I see you’ve finally noticed Noah.”

Ruth frowned, her cheeks immediately heating. “What are you talking about? I let him in.”

Sophie laughed softly. “Don’t play coy. You’ve been watching him since he walked in.” She raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Youlikehim.”

Ruth’s blush deepened, and she shook her head, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “He’s… too old for me,” she muttered, her voice low.

“Too old?” Sophie repeated with a chuckle. “Ruth, look around. Every one of your sisters is with a man in his forties. Olivia’s with Jackson, who’s forty-four. Molly’s married to Ethan, and Brad’s forty-two. And Tristan and I’ve joined the club, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s different,” Ruth protested, but she lacked conviction.

“Is it?” Sophie teased, giving her a pointed look. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself because he makes you nervous?”

Ruth didn’t respond, choosing instead to straighten the already perfectly aligned stockings on the mantel. She heard Sophie’s laughter as her sister walked away, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts.

Ruth stole one more glance at Noah, who was now listening intently as Alex spoke. Her chest tightened, and she turned her attention firmly away. Whatever this was, she couldn’t let herself dwell on it. Not tonight. Not ever. She had a career to focus on.

* * *

The dining roomsoon buzzed with the lively sounds of holiday joy. Charlotte and Alex had transformed the Everhart home into a winter wonderland, from the evergreen garlands framing the windows to the golden fairy lights twinkling overhead. The long dining table was a masterpiece of cozy elegance, set with gold-trimmed plates and crimson napkins tied neatly with sprigs of rosemary. A towering centerpiece of pine boughs, red berries, and white candles gave the room a soft, romantic glow.

The table was laden with culinary treasures. A perfectly roasted turkey took pride of place, its golden skin crackling invitingly. Surrounding it were bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes, green beans almondine, roasted Brussels sprouts with balsamic glaze, and the vibrant cranberry sauce that was the only version Ruth would eat. Freshly baked dinner rolls were piled high in a basket, their warmth still escaping into the air. On the sideboard, desserts waited like a promise: pecan pie, a chocolate Yule log, and Charlotte’s famous apple crumble.

The Everhart sisters filled the room with laughter and chatter. Olivia, the eldest, teased Charlotte as she bustled to bring everything to the table. “Mom, it’s dinner, not a photo shoot forGourmet Holiday,” she quipped, earning a laugh from the group.

Charlotte flushed but grinned. “It’s not my fault I like to make everything look perfect,” she teased back, motioning dramatically to the table.

Sophie, ever the instigator, leaned toward Molly. “Ten bucks says Izzy’s the first to drop food on the tablecloth.”

Molly grinned. “You’re on.”

Across the table, the significant others—Jackson, Tristan, Ethan, and Brad—laughed along with the sisters.

Jackson, a fire captain, leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Honestly, I could use some of this perfection at the station. Half my team can’t even toast a bagel without setting off the smoke alarm.”

Turk, a battalion chief and longtime family friend, raised an eyebrow. “Bagels? Try convincing them to have a normal conversation with someone. These new kids have zero people skills. Everything’s on their phones or some app.”

“That’s why you have us ‘old guys,’” Jackson shot back, smirking.

“Speak for yourself,” Turk replied. “I’m still the picture of youthful charm.”

The group erupted into laughter, with Ruth raising her glass. “To youthful charm,” she toasted, her grin infectious.

* * *

Noah,sitting a few seats down, found himself smiling along but only half listening. His focus kept drifting back to Ruth. She was twenty-six—a full fourteen years younger than his forty—but tonight, she seemed ageless, her confidence and wit making her stand out even in a room full of charismatic people. With her emerald dress and gold necklace, the way the candlelight played on her skin made her look like she belonged in one of those old oil paintings he’d seen in museums.

Noah’s gaze lingered as she sipped her wine, her lips curving into a soft smile as she laughed at one of Molly’s jokes. Molly and Ethan’s baby, Wyatt, slept nearby despite the noise.