Page 69 of A Christmas Bargain

“But it was because I wanted you to be able to have a lasting love. A commitment that would lasthere.”

I studied her profile until she faced me. “What?”

“You’re worried about me losing someone.”

“I—” She sighed. “Yes. I don’t want you to go through that again. It pains me to see you in pain. It hurts me to know you’re suffering. You lost Jenna. And I hate to see you go through another heartache, like the one that’s inevitable when you and Claire would have to break up because her life is elsewhere.”

I ground my teeth. For the first time, I wasn’t bothered by her words. Shewaspushy and butting in too much into my life, but at least she did it from a place of love.

What irked me, though, was how I’d played a part in ensuring no lasting love could take root between me and Claire.

How could it be when I’d lied to her from the start?

I had no business suggesting we should pretend to date.

It would kick me in the ass now. I was left with no choice but to own up to my lies and pray she wouldn’t hate me for the manipulation.

And I strongly doubted another Christmas miracle was waiting for me like that.

23

CLAIRE

After the parade, we all went to eat at the diner in town. They had a Santa there, and Naomi was very articulate and clear when she presented a bullet-point list of her wishes.

Three dogs.

She laid into what breeds she preferred.

Despite feeling like I’d butted heads with Stacy, we got along well. Maybe that was what we’d been waiting for. A moment to confront each other.

I stood by what I said, anyway. I could see myself as a mother. I always had. That vision had always felt out of reach, asomedaykind of thing.

But when I woke up and realized Naomi and I had slept on the floor, I gave a deeper consideration to the possibility thatsomedaycould very well betoday.

I didn’t need tohavea baby to feel like a mother. I mother-henned Dad and Grace. And with Naomi, I’d stepped into another show of maternal instinct.

And that was why I’d reached the point of admitting I was a liar. I couldn’t keep this up anymore. Christmastime wasn’t supposed to be spent warring between emotions andobligations, between worrying I could never have the freedom to go for what I really wanted while not shirking on the responsibilities I had to give up.

“I’ll be back soon,” I told Derek.

All day, he’d seemed slightly distant. He was nothing like the closed-lipped, stern grump I met at that holiday market. But I knew him well enough that I could read him better. He seemed to have something on his mind, something weighing him down, and I hoped it wasn’t the sad things we talked about last night.

Death was hard. Grief wasn’t simple. It was with a deep concern that I fretted that he was glummer than he wanted anyone to think.

“Okay.”

“I ordered her a little something,” I told him, smiling with the glee of wondering how thrilled she’d be to open it. “I had it shipped to my dad’s.”

His expression lightened up. “You didn’t have to get her something.”

“I wanted to. Oh, wait ’til you see it. You’ll be so surprised.”

He kissed me one last time, and I drove to my Dad’s in Macomb.

“Hey, there she is,” Dad greeted from the kitchen. Grace had already arrived, but that was expected. Christmas was only three days away.

The opened package on the table confused me, though. “Hey, that was mine.”

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