She stroked her palm over the silver surface. “Being the cynic that I am, I had little hope that any of you would win the wager. Yet I find myself delighted by your success. Who’d have thought three rather . . . difficult personalities could convince anyone to take a chance on you?”

Allie choked on a laugh.

“Yet you found impressive women to love,” Frankie said. “Amazingly, they love you in return.”

Gavin’s grip went tight, and he lifted her hand to kiss the back of it with a lingering touch.

Frankie made a show of flipping open the top of the briefcase. She pulled out three envelopes. Allie had seen Gavin’s before, when they’d visited Frankie’s office to show her the Paraiba tourmaline engagement ring to prove he’d won the wager. Of course, Gavin had wanted to give her a precious stone, but she loved the sea green of the tourmaline because it reminded her of his eyes. So he’d settled for surrounding it with big, honking diamonds.

Frankie laid the envelopes on the desk in a neat line. Allie could read each man’s name and see Frankie’s bold notation, “Wager satisfied,” and her initials.

Frankie swept her hand over the envelopes. “In chronological order of being canceled. Gentlemen, these are now yours to burn.”

The three men stepped forward almost simultaneously. They looked magnificent in their white dinner jackets. Nathan carried himself with that brisk military posture, learned from his Marine father. Luke’s golden hair picked up glints from the flickering fire. But Gavin took her breath away. His dark hair and olive skin made the white jacket look more brilliant, and he moved with that magnetic grace that always made her think of a conjurer.

Gavin seized his envelope and held it up. “I confess to acute curiosity. Shall we share what we wagered?”

“Why not?” Nathan said. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “In chronological order?”

Luke’s dimple appeared. “Which means Miller goes last.”

Nathan slid his finger under the envelope’s flap. “I don’t remember exactly how I phrased it.” He pulled out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it for a quick glance. “Simple but clear. The family sword.”

“The antique one your father is wearing today?” Luke asked, his normally unflappable calm disturbed. “It’s been in your family for generations. He told me about its history.”

Nathan nodded. “Dad and I hadn’t seen each other in two years. The sword represented all that was wrong between us.” He took Chloe’s hand. “Luckily, my wife changed that, as well as winning me the bet.” He returned the paper to the envelope and offered it to Chloe. “Would you do the honors?”

“Gladly,” she said, taking the paper in one hand and her floating skirt firmly in the other. She walked to the fireplace and flicked Nathan’s wager into the flames. They all watched the edges turn black as it caught and burned to ash.

Luke ripped open his envelope but didn’t bother to look at the paper inside. “I bet my Super Bowl rings.”

“Rings, plural?” Gavin asked. “You were more desperate than I realized.”

“He only had four rings then, so it wasn’t such a big deal,” Miranda said with her serene smile, making her husband’s dimple reappear.

“Anyway, I always win, especially the big games,” the ex-quarterback said before he handed the envelope to his wife.

Miranda tossed the paper into the flames. Once again they waited until the last bit disappeared in a curl of smoke.

Gavin slid his envelope back and forth between his fingers. “I wagered my mother’s necklace, the one Allie is wearing now. I’m not proud of that.” He brushed his fingertip over the sparkling locket where it lay at the base of her throat. Just having his hand that near made her skin tingle. “But it has brought two amazing women into my life, so I cannot regret it.”

He held out the envelope to Allie. She walked to the fireplace, ripped the paper in half, and flung it into the fire. Turning, she saw the flare-up of the last forfeit throw flickers of firelight on the faces of everyone watching. It was strange on such a warm fall day, but fitting, like a festive bonfire.

Gavin stretched his hand out to her, palm up, his gesture both commanding and beseeching. She put her hand in his, feeling the power in the fingers he wrapped around hers before he pulled her close to him.

“You know, the three of you aren’t the only winners,” Allie said, turning against Gavin’s side. “I feel pretty good about the results of this wager, too.”

Chloe winked. “But we won’t admit that to the guys.”

Gavin chuckled and turned to Frankie. “I think it’s time to break out the 1928 Dom Pérignon we brought down for the occasion.”

Frankie bent down, and Allie heard the rattle of ice against metal before the woman held up two dripping bottles of champagne. Gavin took one bottle while Luke took the other, popping the corks almost simultaneously. Frankie moved the tray of crystal flutes from the credenza to the desk so the men could fill them.

When Gavin offered her a glass, Frankie shook her head. “This is a moment for just the six of you. I was honored to be the keeper of your wager, but now my job is finished.” With a smile and a wave of her hand, she strode out the door before they could dissuade her.

When they all had champagne in their hands, Nathan looked at Gavin. “You’re the writer, so you propose the toast.”

Allie remembered the days when Gavin would have flinched and made a snide remark about his writer’s block. But Christmas Best was finished, and being rushed through production for release this holiday season. Even better, he’d started the next book and had ideas for three more.

Now he slipped his arm around her waist and stood considering for several seconds before he lifted his glass. “First, I’d like to toast the surprising friendship that began that night at the Bellwether Club. I hate to admit it, but you, my fellow gamblers, have become important to me.”

Tears welled up in Allie’s eyes as the three men touched their glasses together. She’d come to understand the loneliness they’d all felt at a time when they had reached the height of their success. As they tilted their heads back to drink, she could find nothing of that despair in their faces. Instead, a deep contentment radiated from them.

Gavin swallowed his champagne. “And I will deny I ever said that.”