Page 32 of When It Snows

Flynn chuckles. “Staring at a door waiting for her to arrive isn’t being an idiot?”

I elbow him. “You’re confusing me. Am I supposed to want to see her or not?”

“Scarlett’s family never comes to the Masked Dance.”

“What? All the locals come.”

“The Harris family doesn’t come. They celebrate Christmas Eve alone in their farmhouse.”

I narrow my eyes on him. “How do you know?”

“I have my sources.”

“Whatever.” Disappointment hits me and I rub a hand over my heart where an ache is forming.

Flynn nudges me toward the door. “Go to her.”

My feet won’t budge. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

“What if she can’t handle me being a cop?”

His eyes widen. “Is that what your problem has been all these years? You think women can’t handle being with a cop?”

I snort. “You try coming home after a twelve-hour shift to discover your girlfriend has dumped you because you missed dinner with her family again.”

“And now every woman on the face of the earth is incapable of dating a cop because of one selfish bitch? Do you think Scar is a selfish bitch?”

Scarlett is the furthest thing from selfish. She nursed me back to health despite how I treated her in high school. Shemade all of our meals while we were stuck in the cabin. She tried helping me dig my patrol car out of the snow.

And when I left because I had to get back to duty, she didn’t complain. In fact, she ordered me to ‘go help’.

“You love her,” Flynn declares.

I open my mouth to deny it, but my heart knows the truth. Yeah, I love her. Scarlett Harris is the woman for me. Dad’s right. I don’t need to wait years to figure out how I feel.

He pushes me toward the door. “Go get her.”

Good idea. I’m done waiting for her to show up.

Chapter 13

On the naughty list. And I regret nothing.

Scarlett

Dad leans back in his chair and rubs his belly. “I can’t eat another thing.”

Relief courses through me. Finally, this meal is over. I should be grateful to be eating Christmas dinner with my family on the island for a change but the tension in the room is giving me a headache.

All my siblings know Mom spoke to Dad about their treatment of me. Hazel couldn’t keep a secret if it killed her. But Dad hasn’t brought up the topic. Everyone’s holding their breath as they wait.

I guess the wait is over. And the topic is not being discussed. Typical. Dad doesn’t talk about things he doesn’t want to.

Mom stands. “Let’s clean up.”

“This is bullshit,” Hazel declares.

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