Page 101 of Surrender

I kiss her long and deep, dragging her in my lap to warm us both. I slip my hands beneath her coat, toying with the hem of her shirt until she shudders against me.

“Come on. There’s more of the festival to see. You can make out with me after we see the goats in sweaters at the petting zoo. I might even let you cop a feel.”

* * *

Whitney made good on her promise.

We shopped the Christmas vendors and tried the famous town fudge. She bought a pack of sugar cookies to surprise Lucy with later.

We rode in a freezing horse-pulled carriage, snuggled together beneath a thick blanket, and she raced me down a man-made hill on an inner tube. She pulled me into a slow dance in the middle of the street despite nobody else dancing.

And only once she saw the goats in sweaters did she let me lead her into a corner of the heated barn and feel her up while we made out behind the hay bales.

On the way out, we bought a jar of the best fucking hot chocolate in the world.

Just as I thought it was totally coupley.

I never thought I’d want to go to the winter festival.

But the Fairview Valley Winter Festival with Whitney was fucking magical.

25

Whitney

“Tell me again what time you get in tomorrow?” I bite down on my club sandwich on my lunch break Friday afternoon.

“My flight is supposed to land at three. I’ve already booked a rental car, so don’t you worry that pretty little head about coming to get me,” Alice says.

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” I argue.

“Yes, it would. The airport is two hours away. You need to be safe in that little town of yours until my dickhead brother stops his stupid games.”

“I take it you still haven’t heard from him?”

“No. But I found out Mom has, so I’m no longer speaking to her.”

“How long do you expect that to last?”

“Fucking forever.”

I cross my legs and take a sip of my iced coffee. “You can be pissed on my behalf and still speak to her. I promise I won’t hold it against you. She’s your mother. He’s her son. I’m sure she had her reasons.”

A harsh breath comes across the line. “Oh no. Don’t do that and pretend all mothers have your golden heart. She did it for her own selfish reasons.”

“Such as?”

“He promised her a cut, Whit.”

“A cut? Of what?”

“He promised to give her fifty thousand dollars if she let him stay with her. And she did, all the while she was begging you to come home so that they both could get their hands on that money.”

My jaw drops. “She did not. How do you even know that?”

“She told me. Said if I helped her get you back to Arizona, he promised to throw in an extra ten grand for me.”

The sandwich turns to ash on my tongue. “He must really be desperate.”

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