Page 61 of The Naughty Elf

“Do they know about each other?” Her soft blue eyes hold genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know. I think so. I mean, they have to talk, right?”

The way Mom shakes her head has me second-guessing how I’ve been handling the three of them. I mean, hiding things at work is not the same as hiding what I’m doing from them. They’re friends. They own a business together. Theyhaveto talk.

“Let’s put together some dinner.” Mom turns to my fridge, pulling out the chicken I have thawed and the mountain of vegetables she must have brought over from the main house. Ilet her tackle the chicken, trimming off the fat and covering it in a spice paste before letting it rest in the fridge.

I wash everything. One thing about growing up on a ranch—one that uses a few acres to grow food—is to always,always, wash my food. Even if it says it’s prewashed. Bugs like to get in those nooks and crannies that a general wash doesn’t get out.

Once we both get to chopping, I have to ask the question swimming in my thoughts. “Do you think I’m being stupid?”

Mom pauses, finishes the tomatoes, and turns to look at me. “Listen, honey. I worry about you. It’s my right as a mother, but I hold no judgments. I only want you to be safe and happy. In that order. Be safe first, and then be happy.”

I nod, relief letting me relax into the task. It opens up the room for me to ruminate over the look on Ashley’s face when he caught Jackson and me together. There were hints of surprise, but not outright shock. A heat flashed in his eyes, but was it from anger or lust?

I just don’t know.

After dinner is finished, I settle Gracie at the kitchen table with her plate and pick at mine. My thoughts are too wrapped up in mysex life.

What I need is a nice, long bath, and to go to bed early. Exhaustion teases my shoulders, and I’m ready to drop when a firm knock echoes off my front door.

Anxiety, the instinct to run again, flares in my chest, but my mother is on her feet, opening the door before I can tell her not to. Probably because she’s taught me to never hide from my problems.

I don’t need to look to know who’s standing on my stoop, but I see all three of them towering over my willowy mother.

Jackson. Sawyer. Ashley.

It’s time to face the consequences of my actions.

27

GINGER

Well, I am in no way prepared for this—my mother standing as my gatekeeper, staring down three giants with her hands on her hips, ready to breathe fire down on them. When she stands to the side and invites them in, I’m in shock.

I get to my feet in an unsteady move, bringing my plate to the counter, covering it, and placing it in the fridge. At least, I don’t have to keep pretending that I’m hungry.

“Come on, Gracie. Let’s go to Grandma’s and raid the cabinet for the snacks Grandpa thinks he’s hiding from us.”

My daughter pops up with a smile, leaving her art project and giving me a quick hug before she’s ushered out the door. She stops to give Sawyer a hug, too. They really bonded while we were camping, and it twists a new bittersweet emotion in my chest.

I clear the table as my front door closes. Anything to keep myself busy. To not be trapped by this conversation I really don’t want to have.

But there’s not much left to distract me.

Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders back and finally turn to them. They’re all at the door of my kitchen, a wall of muscle and bone that blocks me from escape.

The stretching silence sends another wave of anxiety through me, and I blurt out the first thing I can think to say, “So, you all already knew, right? I’m not some kind of shitty…whatever I am…”

A slut. A harlot. A whore.I was called those things and worse when I wound up pregnant at sixteen.

“Yes, we knew,” Jackson says, that concern from earlier still creasing his features.

I nod. “And, are you here to make me choose? Because I don’t know if I can. I’m falling for all of you.”

Well, shit. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

Their silence has me deflating.

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