since she drove last night to my place.
Now that I think about it, she insisted on driving.
She’d planned her escape.
I got in under the wire.
Why am I even here?
She caved because of sex?
That’s not my game.
I’ve been enjoying her.
Great company.
Fire to spare.
Adventures often.
It feels good to be around Cherry. Days fly by. I laugh more than I ever have. Time apart feels like shit.
Was I lying?
To myself?
Lexi guiltily laughs, “We’re so late,” smoothing her straightened hair. “And don’t you dare bring up that you told me to leave it curly. It wouldn’t have saved time.”
I get a side-stare as I mutter, “Wasn’t going to.”
“Hey!” She faces me, tilts her head. “Are you nervous? You don’t have to be. My family is really nice. You’ll see.”
“From the ones I met, I’m sure they are.” But you didn’t want to bring me here. Admit it. “Just hungry.”
“Me too!” Lexi relaxes. “We worked up an appetite. Come on!”
Walking up a cleanly landscaped path of a beautiful old home that looks far more welcoming than Ethan’s castle did, I take commitment’s deep breath.
I accepted this invitation.
Starting an argument or being a dick in any way is not acceptable. I’m a guest in someone’s home.
Not that being a dick is ever acceptable.
But ego is an enemy to every man.
“Nice place. Spend your Christmases here?”
As we walk inside, an inviting living room to our left, she explains, “Christmas Eve we’d spend at Grandma and Grandpa’s. Still do, especially since Grams comes over from her senior living house. Plus my dad and his twin…” she pauses to see if I remember his name.
I nod, “Justin,”
“That’s right. Uncle Justin. You’ll recognize them because they’re got super light blonde hair—”
“—And there will be two of them.”
Lexi laughs, and continues, “They’re very close, and we could’ve just combined families, but it was more fun to have everyone — all of us here!”
She points to the staircase we’re passing that’s lined with family photos as deep as the eye can see, from a sepia-toned 1940’s era wedding photo to one recently taken of all the cousins, because I spot Lexi immediately, looking as she does now. Fucking gorgeous.
“Christmas Eve must’ve been one hell of a party.”
She squeezes my hand. “No different than what you’re about to see. Our Family BBQs are epic. Just because it’s December 24th doesn’t make it any different than these, except maybe that we drink cider then over Grandma’s fresh ginger-ale, and there are way more desserts.”
“And candy canes.”
She scrunches her nose. “Actually I don’t like those.”
We walk into a sunlit kitchen empty of people, chili spices in the air and splashes of burnished red on the floor where it spilled during transport.
Lexi releases my hand, runs over to dampen paper-towels, pointing to the gauze-draped window over her grandparents’ sink.
She didn’t need to bring the crowded party to my heightened attention because I’m stopped near the cream-trimmed backdoor, counting heads conversing outside. Blinking away as I reach fifty and give up, I cock an eyebrow to where Lexi is wiping the tile of spilled chili.
“Where’s the trash, Cherry?”
“Under their sink.”
I walk over, open a pine cabinet. “Toss it in.”
Lexi grins, spinning on her heel in a half-squat, aims, throws, and I turn the bin to help the win. “Yes!”
Chuckling, I close the cabinet, take her hand and another deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
“You ready?”
Locking eyes with her I ask a question that’s deeper than she knows. “Are you?”
She laughs, “Truth?” toward the backyard. “I’m a little nervous.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t let it show, leading her outside onto a back porch weathered by time, heading toward a lawn just three steps below that’s large enough her cousin and his team could play football on it.
To our left is a series of foldouts covered with clean table cloths blowing in the warm breeze, enough food on them for a giant’s family.
Fifty, sixty, or seventy people —kids, too — are standing around, some sitting, all engaged in conversation.
The door behind us slams.
All heads turn.
Conversations vanish.
We stop where we are, just before the three steps that will take us down to the party.
We’re on a stage.
I’m not the performer type.
Everyone is staring at us.
My gaze swipes across familiar and unfamiliar faces as Lexi waves a quiet, “Hi," from where we stand on display.
From where she sits atop two floral cushions, a frail old woman shouts, “Lexi brought a hunk?!”
And everyone starts laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LEXI
With a release of tension I cry out, “Grams!” glancing to Gage’s reaction. He grins, broad shoulders