Page 41 of My eX-MAS Emergency

“My mom used to tell me never to drive faster than my guardian angel can fly,” Calista told Quinn as she stepped on the gas too vigorously, lurching them forward before she braked too hard, giving them all a mild case of whiplash.

“Sorry,” Quinn whined.

“It’s okay,” Calista said in soothing tones. “Just press down gently and evenly.”

Quinn nodded. “I’ll try.”

“You’ve got this.” Calista did her best to make her feel confident.

Tristan kept his mouth shut and just sat back, admiring Calista. He’d always loved how great she was with Quinn. From the time Quinn was born, Calista had innately loved her and known how to best take care of her. It was like she was born to be a mom. He used to dream of the day she would be the mother of his children. How he forgot about that all in one stupid juvenile moment, he didn’t know. But he knew once he’d said those fateful words to her, there was no going back. The damage was done. And most likely, he could never undo it. But something inside of him kept telling him to try, and not just for Quinn’s sake.

With Calista’s help, Quinn got them safely on the road. Then Calista helped herself to his radio, turning it to a station that played Christmas music all season long. She sang along to Frank Sinatra’s version of “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

Quinn joined in and giggled when Calista sang opera-style when they got to five golden rings.

Tristan smiled at the scene. He hadn’t felt this much holiday cheer in years.

“Come on, Uncle Tristan, sing along,” Quinn implored as she stopped at a red light on Main Street in downtown Aspen Lake. Pine garlands twisted around each lamppost, and strings of lights graced the quaint brick buildings. A memory of watching the Christmas parade with Calista hit him, rendering him unable to sing. He reminisced about holding her from behind to keep her warm as they’d watched the floats go by. She’d sung along as the marching band approached, and caught the Christmas candy thrown out to the crowd with just as much excitement as the little kids around them. They’d shared a cinnamon lollipop and not enough kisses. He could never get enough of her warm, supple lips.

“We should go to the parade this Friday,” Tristan said offhandedly.

“For sure,” Quinn agreed. “We have to.”

Calista bit her lip. “Um, sure.” She sounded anything but sure but was trying to be a good sport for Quinn. “My shift should be over by the time it starts.”

He didn’t blame her for responding less than enthusiastically. He’d made her believe he would never leave her, and then he’d obliterated the trust and love between them.

Quinn carefully got them the rest of the way through town. But when she turned onto the country road leading to his place, she took the corner too quickly, in her usual fashion. It forced Calista right into him.

Tristan naturally put his arm out to brace her. He was only doing it for her protection, of course.

Calista stared down at his arm across her chest clad in a tight pink sweater that showed off her—let’s just say, fantastic—body. “Enjoying yourself?”

He let his arm drop. “Do you even have to ask?”

She rolled her eyes … but she smiled.

To him, it was a start.

CALISTA

QUINN TURNED INTO THE RANCH’S entrance on a snowy and muddy dirt road. Thankfully she turned more carefully this time, since the last few turns had sent me careening into Tristan. He obviously didn’t mind, since he found any excuse he could to touch me. He was playing sexy-dirty. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say I detested it.

When Tristan directed Quinn to stop and put the truck into four-wheel drive, it gave me the opportunity to gaze out the windshield. That was a mistake. Before me was the Garden of Eden. The sun’s rays peeking through the billowing clouds fell perfectly on the gleaming snow blanketing Tristan’s ranch. Tall pine trees dotted the property lined with cedar split rail fences, giving it the classic, rustic ranch look. Horses ran free in the field next to us, galloping in the snow. In the distance was a large black barn with natural wood doors and a stable to match it.

His house was what really got to me. It was just like the one we had dreamed about, only bigger. The A-frame cabin with a wraparound deck and large stone chimney was the home I had pictured raising babies with Tristan in. In my mind’s eye I could clearly see us running through the meadow, swimming in the pond close to the house, and sleeping out under the stars on summer nights.

I shook my head, trying not to have an Elizabeth Bennet moment. The one where she saw Pemberley for the first time and thought maybe she had been wrong about Darcy. I couldn’t help but recall a quote from Pride and Prejudice: “She had never seen a place for which nature had done more.” It perfectly described Tristan’s ranch.

“What do you think?” Tristan eagerly asked, shaking me out of my reverie.

“Uh … it’s okay, if you like this sort of place.”

“So you love it,” he said cockily, knowing I was dang well going to be in awe of it. Sure, it was more expensive than anything I had ever imagined, but the place didn’t scream wealth. It spoke of … well, me … us.

No. No. No. I was not living in a Jane Austen book. While Mr. Darcy was a proud jerk occasionally, he’d never told Elizabeth he needed to quit her like a bad habit. Sure, he said things like she wasn’t handsome enough to tempt him to dance, and that he loved her against his better judgment, but this was totally different. Right?

“Honestly, Calista, what do you think?” he pleaded to know.

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