CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On the morning of December twenty-fourth, Sheridan stood on the deck, watching the waves roll to shore. Clouds had moved in, but the sky wasn’t completely covered. She’d assumed her Christmas would be blue, not merry. She’d never been so happy to be wrong.
A door opened and closed.
Michael stood behind Sheridan and wrapped his arms around her stomach. “The ornaments aren’t dry.”
She leaned against him, soaking up his warmth. “They’ll be ready when Hope and Von return.”
When it’s time for me to leave.
Her chest tightened, imagining herself saying goodbye to Michael. She gripped the deck’s railing until her knuckles went white.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. “You’re all tense.”
Oh, no. Sheridan didn’t want to ruin the time they had left together by worrying about the
