The winter dance in Jackson was bustling with life, the cold air filled with laughter and the soft hum of music. Fairy lights strung around the town square lit up the snowy ground, while the faint scent of pine and mulled cider lingered. Some folks were dancing near the firepit, others leaning against haystacks with beers in hand, trading stories and jokes. Joel leaned against a post, arms crossed, his face set in its usual gruff expression.

He hadn’t wanted to come, but Tommy and Maria had insisted he should “be a damn human” for once. Ellie was somewhere near the dance floor with Dina, laughing and twirling under the lights. Then he spotted you near the edge of the square, standing alone, holding a drink and watching the crowd. His patrol partner.

Joel hesitated. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing—small talk, socializing. But something about you standing there, the way the light caught your face, made him mutter under his breath, “Ah, hell.” Before he knew it, he was walking toward you, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say.