the family taking pictures.
“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously.
“Of course.” His smile was fake. “Is everything okay with you?”
Adison bit the inside of her cheek. She could just drop the matter. Her curiosity was strong, though, and before she could stop herself the words were flowing from her lips.
“Did seeing those people taking pictures bother you?”
It was so slight that at first, she thought she had imagined it, but no, it had been real. Ken had flinched at the question.
“Why would that bother me?” he asked.
Okay. So he was answering her questions with more questions. This wasn’t conducive to a productive conversation.
“I guess it wouldn’t,” she said.
They walked in quiet, with Adison stewing inside. She wasn’t blind; Ken’s mood had changed because of the picture-taking family. Had seeing a happy family upset him? Did it make him miss his parents?
She recalled her first day at the Montoya Foundation, when she’d discovered Ken’s dislike for all things Christmas. It would be easy to dismiss him as someone who didn’t like to be bothered by what they saw as impractical festivities, but she got the sense Ken’s dislike of the holidays went deeper than that.
The holidays were a time for slowing down, for appreciating what you had and spending time with family. She knew all too well how hard that could be when you felt alone. Perhaps Ken needed a little extra Christmas cheer.
Or perhaps he just needed to be left alone. He’d told her nothing was the matter, and it wasn’t her business.
But knowing that didn’t stop her from wondering about it for the rest of the night.
Chapter 19
Ken
The wind blew them into Thea’s house, a group of chatty and laughing people. Trish murmured something to Adison, and Adison threw her head back with laughter.
She shone when she laughed. Glowed.
Ken looked away and removed his hat and gloves. The car ride had been lengthy enough, but he still didn’t feel like he’d warmed up. There was a chill in the middle of his chest.
“How about a movie?” Thea led the way toward the den. “We can vote on which one.”
Almost everyone followed her. Ken hung behind in the foyer, taking time hanging up his coat.
“What do you think?” a voice filled with sunshine asked.
He stilled, his hand on the coat rack. “About?”
“A movie?” Adison asked.
Ken slowly shut the closet door, and even more slowly turned to face her. She stood with her arms folded, shoulder propped against the door jamb. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her hair tangled from the wind. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so beautiful.
“Come again?” Ken asked.
“A Christmas movie,” Adison giggled. When he didn’t respond, the smile dropped off her face. “Oh. Have you ever seen any Christmas movies?”
“Of course I have.”
His answer was harsher than he’d meant it to be. She blinked, taken aback.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
He frowned. “I’m not feeling that well. I think I’ll skip the movie.”
Adison’s arms tightened around herself, like she was protecting herself from his words. Or his presence.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell Thea. I’m sure she’ll miss you.”
Adison turned on her heel and disappeared.
Ken’s fingers flexed, then curled into fists.
He stalked down the hall, in the direction of his room. Halfway there, he changed his mind about going to bed empty-handed and rerouted for the kitchen. No one had made their way their yet for movie snacks, so he had the pleasure of being alone while pouring himself a scotch.
Drink in hand, he slunk to his room, feeling sorry for himself. It had been a great night…which was why he felt so awful.
Self-pity wasn’t an emotion Ken typically indulged in. He had a one-day rule when it came to moping. If something bad happened, he had the rest of the day to sulk about it. The next day, he had to move on. Wake up and focus on the things that were truly important.
According to that rule, he had a couple hours to be sad about the condition he’d found himself in. But that was all.
Settling into the armchair that faced the windows, he put the scotch on the coffee table. He’d been rude with Adison, and though he hadn’t wanted to, perhaps it was for the best. Every time he reminded himself that they needed to keep their distance, he went right back and overstepped that line.
It was such a predictable dance. So far, no one had been burned too badly, but if they continued on this way it was only a