Page 92 of Surrender

I clean the tri-colored one with the sad eyes. We work at an accelerated pace, toweling off our dogs at the same time.

“Still think you should tell her,” he mumbles beneath his breath.

I shake my head in warning. I love my family to death, but if they catch wind of this fuckup, I’ll never hear the end of it. Word would definitely get back to Whitney once their wives and girlfriends heard about it.

“You could always give her a dog to soothe things over. Chicks love apologies in the form of dogs.” He picks up our final one and looks it head-on. “You wouldn’t even have to say much. One look at this face, and you’d receive instant forgiveness.”

“Is that how you won Bree back?”

“She loves my old-ass dogs, but no. I think Lee’s the one you’ll want to ask about that. He practically proposed to Juniper with a dog. Got her to accept the dog and then told her they were a packaged deal.”

I raise a brow. “There’s no way in hell she fell for that.”

“They’re living together, aren’t they?”

* * *

A dim glow lights the windows beyond the curtains of my house, revealing Whitney’s still up. My boots weigh a hundred pounds as I trudge through the garage. A clammy sweat coats my palm as I turn the knob and open the door, stepping into my house that feels more like a home with her in it. Despite all the tough talk on my drive over here, my heart still beats like a steady drum.

I toe off my boots, hang my coat, and walk through the hall with the weight of the last couple of hours on my shoulders. The smell of cinnamon hits as I emerge from the hall, along with the soft strains of a Christmas ballad. It strikes me then how alive she makes my house feel. How alive I feel when I’m with her.

I like it a fuck of a lot more than I ever thought I would.

I find her curled in the corner of the new sofa, her feet tucked under her body, head resting on her hand. Her eyes are closed, but I can’t tell if she’s sleeping from this distance.

Stockings hang above the fireplace. A letter adorning each for our names. They’re plump with gifts meant to be opened in the morning. Even the one with a stitched letter J. Her thoughtfulness has no boundaries. I just wish I knew if this is her way of thanking me or if she’s developing feelings for me too.

Quietly, I move into the kitchen to retrieve the gift I stashed yesterday. I place it behind the small pile she must have moved out of hiding while I was gone.

“Jack?”

I glance up in my crouch to find her sleepy eyes searching mine. “Hey.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s just after ten.”

She sits up and rubs her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I didn’t know if you’d be here tomorrow, so I wanted to give you your gift.”

My lips part on a surprised breath. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s not much.” She reaches beneath the tree and extracts a small box from the pile. “Really. Don’t get your hopes up.”

The box feels like air between my fingertips. I stare at the carefully wrapped present, the sharp creases in the shiny green paper. “Thank you,” I say stupidly.

“You’re supposed to say that after you open it.” She pats the open cushion beside her. “Come sit. I don’t bite.”

Her words draw my attention straight to her mouth. She bites her lip.

“Unless you want me to.”

“You can’t tease a man like that,” I rasp. I tear through the wrapping and open the box to find a silver key chain. A long rectangular shape with the words Christmas Blizzard 2023 etched into it. I flip the cool metal over in my palm. On the back it says W+L+B

“This is for me?”

“I have one too. Everyone around here always remembers the Halloween Blizzard of 1991, but this was a much better experience. I just thought this has been a fun memory that started when, you know, when you were determined to drive yourself back to your motel in a historic blizzard for me.”

The etching on the key chain burns itself into my brain. I don’t remember receiving a gift from someone who wasn’t in my immediate family. She didn’t just pick this out from a shop, she actually had it custom-made.

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