Back with His Twins for Christmas
Description
Charlotte swore she'd never return to snowy Pine Ridge-or cross paths again with Dean Sawyer, the town's reformed bad boy who once broke her heart. But when her family's ski resort is pushed to the brink just before Christmas, Lottie comes home with her five-year-old twins and a desperate plan to save it. Forced to work side by side with Dean, old sparks reignite, long-buried secrets stir, and Lottie must decide whether some mistakes are unforgivable-or the start of a second chance.
Chapter 1
Dec 19, 2025
POV Charlotte
The steering wheel creaked under my death grip as the small mountain town Pine Ridge materialized through the windshield like a nightmare I'd been running from for seven years.
Seven years since I'd driven these roads.
Pregnant and terrified and absolutely certain I'd never come back. Yet, here we are.
"Mommy, you're making that face again." Leah's voice pierced through my spiral. "The scary one where your eye twitches."
"I don't have a scary face, sweetheart." I forced my fingers to relax, blood rushing back into white knuckles. "This is my happy face. See? Happy to visit Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas."
First visit for seven years, two months, and sixteen days, to be exact.
Not that I was counting.
"That's your lying face, mommy," Noah said quietly from his booster seat, not looking up from his book.
Six years old and already calling me on my crap… I'd created a monster. Two of them, actually. But they’re my favorite and most precious monsters anyway.
"Look at the mountains!" Leah bounced against her seatbelt, completely over my emotional crisis. "They're wearing snow like fancy white wigs! Like George Washington!"
"George Washington didn't wear a snow wig," Noah corrected without looking up.
"He could have. You don't know his whole life!"
Noah didn't answer, he rarely did. My quiet boy just watched the white-blanketed pines slide past his window, his eyes taking in everything while giving nothing away.
"Mommy?" Leah's voice dropped to what she considered a whisper. "Will there be real lumberjacks at Grandma and Grandpa's hotel? With the big axes and the red shirts?"
"It's a resort, sweetheart. And I don't think—"
"Because Maisie at school said lumberjacks are very strong and they chop wood all day and they have big beards." She paused thoughtfully. "I want to see one. For research."
I let her words wash over me as the Evergreen Peaks Resort loomed ahead.
The parking lot gaped empty as a broken promise. Peak season is in two weeks, and the place looked like it was already giving up. Just like everything else I was forced to leave behind.
My parents waited on the lodge steps, and the sight of them hit me somewhere beneath my ribs. Mom's hair had gone completely silver—when had that happened? And Dad gripped the railing like it was holding him up instead of the other way around.
When had they gotten that old? How much did I miss?
"Charlotte!" Mom descended the stairs with careful, deliberate steps, her smile bright and brittle as Christmas tinsel. "Oh, darling, you're finally here!"
"Hi, Mom." I accepted her embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her lavender perfume. "Dad."
"Lottie-bug." Dad's childhood nickname for me sounded rusty, like he'd kept it locked away too long. "Good to see you."
They both wore matching expressions of desperate hope poorly disguised as casual happiness. The forced cheerfulness in their voices couldn't quite mask what their eyes told me—desperation, exhaustion, the particular shame of people watching everything they'd built crumble.
I knew that look. I'd perfected it myself during those first brutal years as a single mom, smiling at the pediatrician while my world imploded.
"These must be…" Mom's voice broke completely as she crouched down, and I saw her blink rapidly, fighting tears. "Hello, darlings. I'm your grandma."
Leah, never shy, immediately launched into introductions. "I'm Leah and I talk a lot and this is Noah and he doesn't but he thinks a lot and is that a dog? Can I pet him? Does he know any tricks?"
Then she abandoned us for the ancient golden retriever Bonnie that materialized from somewhere, dragging Noah with her. His small hand disappeared into golden fur, and something in his expression softened.
Mom straightened, watching them with a hunger that made my chest ache.
"They're beautiful, Charlotte. Absolutely beautiful." Her gaze shifted back to me, hopeful and hesitant. "And Tom? Is he parking the car, or—"
"Tom and I ended things five years ago." I kept my voice light, matter-of-fact. "He lasted about a year after the twins were born before he decided fidelity wasn't really his thing. Multiple times, actually. So I decided he wasn't really my thing either."
The silence that followed pressed down like fresh snowfall—heavy, muffling, complete.
"Oh, honey…" Mom's hand found mine. "We didn't know. You never said—"
"I didn't need to say anything." I squeezed her fingers gently, then released them. "We managed. The three of us. We're good at managing."
I nodded toward the lodge, where the twins were now attempting to make a snow angel with the dog's enthusiastic assistance.
"Can we go inside? It's freezing out here, and I'd love to see the old place again."
Dad cleared his throat, grateful for the subject change. "Of course, of course. I'll show you around—we've made some updates since you left, though the heating system's acting up."
He called the twins over and led us toward the side entrance.
"Our head of maintenance is working on it now in the main wing. Been having trouble with it all week. That boy—well, man now—he's practically family. Runs the whole department by himself and swears this place only stays standing because of him."
We walked through corridors I'd memorized as a child, and memories lurked in every corner. The alcove where I'd hidden during hide-and-seek, the window seat where I'd read my first romance novel, the hallway leading to the old ballroom.
Every hallway held a ghost—little Charlotte playing with her puppy, teenage Charlotte sneaking in after curfew, heartbroken Charlotte running away at eighteen with a growing belly.
"The maintenance workshop is just through here," Dad said, pushing open a heavy door. "Kids, you'll like this—lots of interesting machines."
The workshop sprawled before us, cluttered with tools and equipment and the honest smell of machine oil. Someone was working under the massive industrial boiler in the corner, only a pair of worn work boots visible.
Leah's eyes went wide with wonder. Before I could stop her, she darted forward, crouching down near those boots.
"Are you fixing it? Or are you stuck under there? Do you need help? I'm very helpful!"
"Leah, sweetheart, don't bother—"
The man slid out from under the machinery and my entire world tilted off its axis. The air vanished from the room. From the planet. From the entire universe.
Dean Sawyer rose to his full height like something out of my worst nightmare and hottest fantasy combined. Seven years had carved away any remaining teenage softness from his face, leaving behind something harder, more defined.
More handsome and masculine in a way that made my stomach clench with fury.
Grease streaked across a chest that had no business being that broad. Dark hair fell across eyes that had haunted every dream I'd tried to forget.
Those steel-blue eyes found mine and I watched them widen with shock before hardening to ice.
Panic flooded through me, cold and absolute. Every memory I'd spent years burying clawed its way to the surface.
No. No, no, no.
Please, Universe, anyone but him!
Damn it. No, Lottie, don't give in to despair.
Dean's gaze dropped to the twins, then back to me. Something flickered across his face that I couldn't read, and my heart stopped beating entirely.
"Wow!" Leah, oblivious to the apocalypse happening above her head, stared up at Dean with awe. "You're like a giant! Are you a lumberjack? My friend Maisie says lumberjacks are very strong and have beards but you don't have a beard but you look strong. Can you lift a car?"
Dean didn't answer her. He stepped forward slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Well hello, Lottie.” His voice was rough as gravel, low enough that only I could hear the specific edge beneath the words. "Didn't expect to see you back here again."
Back with His Twins for Christmas
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