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“And for making us who we are today,” Joy whispered as they both took a sip. The fizzy drink tickled her nose, but it went down smoothly and hit her bloodstream almost immediately. “This is the good stuff,” she said, smacking her lips in a rather unladylike way. “Too much of it and I won’t be able to get out of this tub.”

“Trust me when I say it’s not a hardship to sit in the tub with you all night and gaze at your gorgeous body, but I think we’d end up looking like prunes. Besides, this is only act one. Act two is falling asleep amid the fluffy pillows and blankets on the bed.”

“That’s bad news,” Joy said, shaking her head as she finished her glass of champagne.

“Why? You don’t like fluffy pillows and blankets?” He lifted the bottle, refilled her glass, then leaned back against the pillow opposite her.

“I love them, but if this is act one and that’s act two, I wonder when we’ll reach act three.” Joy tried not to smirk and give herself away, but it was hard when he looked so concerned. Then again, maybe she was a bit worried about act three, too. She just didn’t want to admit it.

“Call me confused. What’s act three?” Kian leaned forward and took her hands, as if he needed her to ground him. Her stomach burned. Why did she bring it up and ruin the vibe? Probably because insecurity reared its ugly head whenever rejection was on the table. Well, too late now, in for a penny and all that.

“In romance novels, it’s known as the third-act breakup,” Joy explained.

“What’s the third-act breakup?”

“Just what it says. The hero and heroine face strife or miscommunication, have an epic fight and breakup, then go their separate ways.”

“How long do they break up for?” Kian asked, scooting closer.

“Depends,” she said with a shrug. “Days, weeks, months, or sometimes even years.”

“Because they discover they aren’t compatible, or?” Kian asked, obviously trying to make sense of it.

“Usually, it’s a simple miscommunication that could be fixed if they talked to each other for about four sentences, but, you know, that doesn’t make for dramatic fiction.”

“Ahh, yes,” he said, leaning back and grabbing his glass of champagne. “Drama sells.”

“It does, but it sucks in real life. That’s why the trope has always confused me. I want to read about the couple falling in love and finding happiness, not about them being mean to each other and then being sad.”

“That’s probably my fault,” Kian muttered. “See above: the bully trope.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at how he poked fun at himself. At the same time, her heart fell for the way he listened to her and remembered what she’d said.

“Okay, promise me that if we hit that third-act breakup, we don’t break up and just use our words to sort it out?” he asked, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Cross my heart,” Joy said, making the gesture before she took his hand. “Wait, are we dating? Like, officially?”

“I thought we’d already established that, but we are, in my opinion. I’m not seeing anyone else. Are you?”

Joy’s laughter was self-deprecating, but she didn’t even care. Kian Van Adler wanted to date her! “I haven’t seen anyone in years, Kian. How is this going to work when you return to the office and I stay in Snowcap Ridge?”

Setting his flute down, he scooted closer, took her legs, and slid them along each side of him so they were face-to-face. “We’ll work it out because I’ve fallen in love with Snowcap Ridge again. I’m not selling Wintercrest Estate. I can work from the home office whenever I want. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going back to Larson’s Crossing. Truthfully, I wouldn’t be opposed to moving the office to Snowcap Ridge.”

“You’re serious?” she asked, cradling his face in her hands.

“As I’ve ever been. I don’t want to lose you, so I’ll do whatever it takes to keep seeing you after the holidays if that’s what you want.”

“I do,” she whispered with a smile.

“Save those two words for a little later, sweetheart,” Kian whispered before he kissed her.

Was he already talking about marrying her? Joy’s heart was so full she feared it would burst. She never imagined that Kian would become the man she’d dreamed of finding true love with. Lorelei had been right about him, but Joy hadn’t been willing to open her heart back then.

“You know what I don’t want to save for later?” she asked, pressing her forehead to his. “Making love to you.”

Kian’s sharp intake of breath told her she’d surprised him. It also told her he hadn’t planned all of this as an elaborate seduction. He'd only meant to give her a few hours of rest and relaxation before the final days of the holiday season took them by storm.

“That can wait,” he whispered, kissing her lips tenderly. There was no urgency. He was opening his soul to her, letting her drink from it. “That’s not why we’re here tonight.”