February in Evergreen Hollow brought with it a mix of thawing snow and unexpected blizzards, as if the weather itself couldn't decide whether to hold on to winter's chill or let spring whisper its arrival. The town moved forward, with Valentine's Day decorations popping up in shop windows—red hearts, boxes of chocolates, and bouquets of roses that promised love and romance. For Holly Winters, the season amplified her swirling emotions. Her days at Heartstrings Connections were filled with helping others find their matches, but her own heart was caught in a slow, aching pull toward Rowan Kane. The mistletoe kiss, the shared stories, Lily's innocent views on her mother—they all layered on top of each other, building a depth of feeling that Holly hadn't anticipated. She found herself replaying moments in her mind, feeling the warmth of Rowan's hand, the vulnerability in his eyes when he spoke of Anna's betrayal. It wasn't just attraction anymore; it was something deeper, a quiet longing that made her chest tighten.
One evening, as gray clouds gathered overhead, Holly's phone lit up with a call from Rowan. His voice was rough, edged with fatigue from a long practice. "Hey, Holly. Storm's coming in hard tonight. Lily's asking for you—wants to make forts or something. You free?"
Holly glanced out her window, where snowflakes were already swirling like confused dancers. Her heart fluttered at the invitation, but beneath it lay a deeper pull—the chance to be there for them, to weave herself into their lives a little more. "I'd love to. I'll head over before it gets bad."
She bundled up in her warmest coat, grabbing a bag of marshmallows and graham crackers for s'mores by the fire. The drive to Rowan's house was short, but the wind howled against her car, mirroring the storm building inside her. What if this fake dating turned real? What if Rowan's walls were too high, his heart too scarred? The thought made her throat tighten, a mix of hope and fear twisting together.
Rowan opened the door, his dark hair tousled, a soft smile breaking through his usual gruff expression. Lily peeked from behind him, her blue eyes wide with excitement. "Miss Holly! Fort time!"
Holly stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping her like a hug. The living room smelled of wood smoke from the fireplace, and toys scattered the floor like remnants of joy. She knelt to Lily's level, pulling her into a gentle embrace. The girl's small arms wrapped around her neck, and Holly felt a surge of protectiveness, a maternal ache she hadn't expected. Lily was so innocent, so full of light despite the shadows of her mother's absence. It made Holly's eyes sting with unshed tears—how could Anna have left this behind?
They built a blanket fort in the living room, draping sheets over chairs and couches, stringing fairy lights inside for a magical glow. Lily giggled as she crawled in, pulling Holly and Rowan with her. The three of them sat cross-legged, the space cozy and intimate. Rowan passed out hot cocoa, his fingers brushing Holly's, sending a spark up her arm. She met his gaze, seeing the flicker of something vulnerable there—gratitude, perhaps, or the beginnings of deeper affection.
"Tell a story, Daddy!" Lily demanded, snuggling against Rowan's side.
He cleared his throat, his voice low and steady as he spun a tale about a brave hockey player who battled snow monsters to save his kingdom. Lily's eyes sparkled, but Holly watched Rowan, noticing the way his expression softened when he looked at his daughter. This man, so strong on the ice, carried a world of pain beneath his surface. The story of Anna's cheating, the abandonment—it had left scars that ran deep, making him guarded, afraid to let anyone in. Yet here he was, sharing this moment with her. Holly's heart swelled with empathy, a tender ache that made her want to hold him, to heal those wounds.
As the story ended, Lily yawned, her eyelids drooping. Rowan scooped her up, carrying her to bed with a gentleness that tugged at Holly's soul. She followed, helping tuck the covers around the little girl. Lily murmured sleepily, "Love you, Daddy... and Holly."
The words hit Holly like a wave, crashing over her with unexpected force. Love. From a child who barely knew her mother, who saw Anna as a distant memory rather than a source of pain. Holly's throat tightened, tears pricking her eyes. She blinked them back, but Rowan noticed as they stepped into the hallway.
"You okay?" he asked, his hand on her shoulder, warm and reassuring.
Holly nodded, but her voice wavered. "She's so sweet. It just... hits me, how much she's been through without even knowing."
Rowan pulled her into the living room, where the fire crackled softly. Outside, the storm raged, wind whistling through the trees, snow piling against the windows. They were snowed in again, the world outside fading away. He guided her to the couch, sitting close, their knees touching. "Lily's resilient. But yeah, it gets to me too. Every time she asks about Anna, it's like a knife twist."
Holly turned to him, her eyes searching his. "Tell me how it feels—for you. Not just the facts, but... the hurt."
Rowan hesitated, his blue eyes darkening with emotion. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "It feels like... failure. Like I wasn't enough. Anna's cheating—it started small, I think. A flirtation to fill the loneliness. But when I found those texts, saw the plans... it shattered me. I loved her, Holly. Deeply. And she threw it away for someone who promised excitement. Left me holding our baby, wondering what I did wrong."
His voice cracked on the last word, and Holly saw the sheen of tears in his eyes. She reached out, taking his hand, intertwining their fingers. The contact grounded her, but it also unleashed her own emotions—a flood of compassion, of wanting to protect him from more pain. "You didn't do anything wrong, Rowan. She chose to betray you. That's on her."
He squeezed her hand, his grip tight, as if anchoring himself. "I know, logically. But emotionally... it's hard. Nights like this, snowed in, remind me of that Christmas Eve. Coming home to an empty house, Lily crying in her crib. I felt so alone, so broken. Thought I'd never trust again."
Tears slipped down Holly's cheeks now, hot and unbidden. She wiped them away, but more came. "I'm sorry. It breaks my heart thinking of you like that. You're so strong, but you don't have to be all the time. Not with me."
Rowan looked at her, really looked, his gaze piercing through her defenses. "With you... it's different. You make me feel seen. Not just the grumpy hockey dad, but me. The guy who's scared to fall again."
Holly's breath caught, her heart pounding. The air between them thickened with unspoken feelings, the storm outside echoing the turmoil inside. She leaned in, her free hand cupping his cheek, feeling the stubble under her palm. "I'm scared too. My ex cheated, left me feeling unworthy. But with you and Lily... it feels right. Like home."
Rowan's eyes softened, a single tear escaping down his face. He wiped it away roughly, but then pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. They held each other, the embrace fierce and tender, bodies pressed together as if to shield against the world's hurts. Holly buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent—wood smoke and soap—feeling the steady beat of his heart against hers. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, emotions laid bare without words.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the fire dying to embers. Finally, Rowan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "Holly... this isn't fake anymore. Is it?"
She shook her head, her voice a whisper. "No. It's real. Terrifyingly real."
He smiled through his tears, a small, genuine curve of his lips that lit up his face. "Good. Because I don't want to let go."
They didn't kiss—not yet. The emotional depth was enough, a foundation being built on shared pain and emerging hope. Holly stayed the night in the guest room, but sleep came slowly, her mind replaying the hug, the tears, the confessions. In the morning, the storm had passed, leaving a pristine white world outside. They made breakfast together, Lily's laughter filling the house, but something had shifted. The slow burn had deepened, emotions weaving them closer.
Over the next days, the depth lingered. Holly felt it in every text from Rowan, every shared glance at town events. At a Valentine's craft fair, Lily made heart cards, one for Holly that said "My new friend forever." It brought fresh tears, a swell of love for the child who had stolen her heart.
Rowan opened up more, small moments of vulnerability: a late-night call where he admitted missing the family he once dreamed of, or a walk where he held her hand tightly, as if afraid she'd slip away. Holly shared too—her fears of not being enough, her dreams of a love that lasted.
One evening, at the ice rink under starry skies, Rowan pulled her close during a slow skate. "You've healed parts of me I thought were broken," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Holly's eyes filled again. "And you've shown me what real feels like."
They stopped in the center of the rink, arms around each other, the world fading. No kiss, but the emotional connection was profound, a promise of more to come.
The storm had passed, but the hearts remained open, vulnerable, and intertwined.