Page 188 of The Holiday Clause

“Maybe for him, but not for you and your brothers.” She pulled him to sit beside her on the bed. “It’s important that you all go through this together.”

Greyson didn’t do togetherness. He preferred to drown his emotions out at sea or bury them deep in the woods—alone. “None of us want to be here.”

“Yet, here we are. Think about how nice it was to have an upside down dinner tonight. You boys need each other. Those silly traditions are what make life bearable. They distract us from the pain.”

“All of our traditions died with our mom.”

“Well, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe it’s time you brought them back. It’s like the song says, maybe you justneed a little Christmas.You boys are long overdue for a real familyholiday, one that’s messy and chaotic, with presents and tacky lights and all the dysfunctional trimmings.”

He drew back. “Sounds…horrifying.”

“It does,” she laughed. “But it will also be healing—for all of you. Trust me.”

He did trust her, but he didn’t share her faith. “It’s a nice idea, Wren, but we might not have that kind of time.”

“We’ll make time. This year, Christmas is coming early. A good, old-fashioned Hideaway holiday is exactly what this family needs.”

CHAPTER 29

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”

Snow dustedthe eaves of Main Street shops like powdered sugar on gingerbread houses. Wreaths and garland transformed the town into a gift-wrapped wonderland. The blend of woodsmoke, cinnamon, and caramelized sweets hung thick in the air—a promise of comfort Greyson’s uneasy stomach couldn’t embrace.

Dread or hope?

The question churned in his gut with no relief.

Wren skipped across the snow-dusted square, her crimson knit hat bobbing like Rudolph’s nose as the jingle bells tied to her boot laces chimed with every stride.

“I hope you stretched,” she yelled, breath misting from her wide grin. “Because we’re getting a holiday workout today.”

Greyson shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets as wind whipped across the square. “I feel the work part of it.”

Wren spun to face him, clutching spiced cider like a lifeline. “Don’t be a grinch.”

“You knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“And you know I’m not someone who gives up.” Her eyes sparkled. “We’re going full-tilt, Hawthorne. Hot cocoa, mistletoe, all the trimmings! We’re making memories, whether you and your brothers accept it or not.” She pressed a cinnamon kiss on his lips and nuzzled him with her cold nose. “Trust me, there will come a time that you’ll all appreciate having them.”

He believed her, but that time wasn’t now.

This was his fault. He’d asked for help. What did he expect her to do, nothing? That wasn’t Wren. She saw a problem and put her whole heart into fixing it.

Harbor & Home beckoned like a Christmas cottage, its window ablaze with twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.

Inside, cinnamon-scented potpourri and Christmas music bombarded him. Sugar cookies shaped like snowflakes sat beside a large carafe of mulled wine.

“First, a little Christmas fuel.” Wren handed him a cookie and bit hers with a satisfied hum.

“Do you even know who made them?”

She licked sugar from her lips in a way that took his mind to a place it shouldn’t go. “As long as they aren’t Birdie’s, I’m sure they’re fine.”

He followed her through aisles overflowing with holiday treasures, mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she piled their basket with beeswax candles, ceramic reindeer, and glass ornaments.

“How much are you getting?” The basket was already overflowing so he relieved her of its weight, but that only freed up her hands so she could shop twice as fast.

“We’re hosting Christmas dinner, Greyson. A lot goes into that.”