Page 115 of Dropping the Ball

She narrows her eyes. “It only matters what our objective judge,my sister, thinks.”

I smirk while she snaps pictures and texts them to Madison.

Without knowing who did what, which cookies are better?

Harper cried when I showed her the snowflakes, so Micah wins.

“That was rigged,” Kaitlyn complains.

I drop a kiss on her nose. “I still like you even though you suck at cookie decorating.”

“Fine. I forgive you for being good at frosting.”

I scoop her up and carry her over to the sofa to settle her on my lap. “Thank you for this whole day. What happens when you fail the bar exam because you didn’t study today?”

She pinches my side. “It won’t be funny if that happens.”

“It won’t happen.”

She sighs. “I hope not. But now I have a confession.”

I tug at the bib of her apron above her “cleavage.” “I know this isn’t your real body.”

“A real confession.”

Her voice is serious. I don’t want to change the light mood, but I always want her to be able to talk to me. “All right. Hit me.”

“I know Christmas is a big deal to you, but I’ll be working like crazy right up until Christmas Day. I’m trying to cram all the Christmas in today because I won’t have time.” She drops her head against my chest. “I’m getting so tired of saying I won’t have time.”

“I know. Front-row seat, remember?” I smooth her hair, still not tired of being able to touch it whenever I want. I’ll never be tired of it. “Are you going to be okay if all this work . . . doesn’t work? What if something falls apart with the gala? Like no one comes or no one bids?”

She bolts upright. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“No.” I settle her back against my chest. “Everything will be amazing. But I’m wondering how you’ll feel if it’s not.”

She’s quiet for a beat. “It will be embarrassing. But I’m handling every detail that can be handled, and at some point, that’s enough.”

“What about how embarrassment is worse than death for you?”

“I never said that.”

I smile against her hair. “I know you.”

She runs her finger over the snowflakes knit across my chest. “The last two weeks have taught me that the only way to get kicked out of my family is cheering for anyone besides Texas. This whole gala could fail, and I guess they’ll still keep me. Madison ambushed me at the office the other day and did amateur therapy again. Something about how I’m worthy of love?”

I tighten my hold. “You are.” Is this it? Is this when I put into words what I’ve been feeling since Thanksgiving? No,recognizingsince Thanksgiving. I’ve been feeling this for longer than that.

Love.Say it. Because this can’t just be me.

I open my mouth. “Thank you, Kaitlyn.” Not the three words I meant to say. But I don’t want to send her running scared again by dropping the other three big words on her too soon. “I love that you did this. The dough. The Christmas movie. It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Except for Mr. Martinez and the bike in the rain.”

“Second most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me,” I amend. “Thank you for making time you didn’t have. But I am responsible for my own Christmas spirit, and now I’m taking responsibility for your Christmas spirit. Leave it to me, okay? I would never let it get lost in the shuffle.”

“Micah . . . I don’t want to butt into things that aren’t my business, but I also want everything about you to be my business. So your mom . . . will she be okay with the holidays? They’re intense for anyone. If you need to be around for her more, I support that.”

“She’s okay.” I love that she cares this much. I wish I had a sign that would tell me when she’s ready to hear how deep my feelings run. “Christmas season kind of stabilizes her, believe it or not. That’s when she does the most business, and it’s good for her. The last day she can ship an order and have it arrive by Christmas is the twentieth. Then she crashes. It’s not usually a depressive episode. More like unwinding?”

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