Page 58 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

If I had only one or two reasons why this isn’t smart, maybe this wouldn’t fill me with such a mix of raw emotions.

I beat myself up, going back and forth with no logical sense that usually settles me, until we pull into Dad’s driveway.

Snow has settled in the sharp corners of the roof where they outline the dormer windows, all dark. Warm light glows from the big picture window where I used to spend my afternoons reading after school. And a gold-glinted wreath hangs on the door around the brass knocker—a leftover from the kind of Christmas my mother always decorated for.

A new pang resonates in my hollow center. For all the things I’ve missed out on without her.

I can’t let my son go without those things.

I Thanked Liam as he helps me out of the car, I beeline for the front door, which opens as I reach the wrap-around porch.

The moment I’m across the threshold, a little brown-haired boy comes barreling at me. I barely have the time to sink down and catch him, but once I have him in my arms, my world clarifies.

This is the most important thing in the world. This little boy.

Mylittle boy.

His small body clings to mine, shaking with fear and relief as I plop on the floor with him, rocking gently as I hold him tight.

“It’s okay. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s home. I’m not going anywhere,” I say against his temple, laying kisses in his hair.

I should have been here for him. Even if my plans were innocent, my night did not end that way.

Peering up at Dad, I’m met with his warm smile. His large hand comes down across my hair, and he bends to give us both a kiss.

I cuddle Paxton closer, unwilling to let him go for a long, long time.

HENRY

I take a long sip of my bourbon, rolling the caramel and smoky notes across my tongue as Eli slides back into the room, shoulders slumped and head down as he leans back against the door for a few beats before he straightens. He does the same thing I did when Paige left. He grabs himself a healthy serving of whiskey.

After a gulp, he strides to us on the couch and sits in one of his cozy chairs opposite. “Well,” he says. “That was fucked.”

Jake grunts from the other end of the leather sofa, swirling his glass. More broody than usual.

I get it. The night was near perfect before we were interrupted. Not that it mattered. Paige had to leave either way.

“What did Rodrick Rockwell, Esquire, want this time?” I offer, knowing how insufferably high and mighty the man can be.

“Besides dressing me down and berating Paige?” Eli scoffs, frustrated, and takes another drink. “To tell me how much our new project is a pipe dream and that I’m too stupid to properly run my own business.”

Jake snorts, rolling his eyes. “Should just show him our earnings.”

“He has them,” I say. “He’s on the board.”

Eli and I share a commiserating grimace. I don’t know exactly what his life was like before we met in high school, but what I witnessed after told me enough of a story about the great Rodrick Rockwell and the way he treated his family that I didn’t need other explaniations..

Granted, we have talked about it on more than one occasion.

The man’s house was a museum meant to impress the same politicians and elite that our hotels do—ornate sculptures, expensive tapestries, priceless vases and crystal chandeliers. All of the old clichés. Maids scurried around in fright when the old man entered a room. His wife was timid and accommodating to all his whims. The entire family dressed to impress. Always.

It was the first thing I’d made fun of him for when he joined the football team. The kid was dying to get dirty. To have an avenue for his endless and seemingly destructive energy. But my smaller home, my family growing up, was warmer and far more chaotic. The joys of living in a four-bedroom house as the eldest of six created the need to find a place to exist for myself. That was usually outside.

Eli’s the only boy, but his older sister didn’t have the same hang ups with their father. When Eli didn’t want to take over for his father, she stepped in, ready to do it instead. That was an entire shit show before she finally got what she wanted—with Eli’s help. And perhaps a little from her new wife.

Eli sucks in a deep breath and holds it before blowing it out. “You should have seen the way Paige looked at him.”

A small smile cracks his face and I can’t help but feel one curling on the ends of my lips too. Paige is one hell of a firecracker. If anyone can combat his father’s inflated sense of self, it would be Paige.

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