Page 108 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Here we go,” the PA says, giving Harry a thumbs up.

The TV flickers on, and a video shows up on the screen. It’s the PA wearing a Santa suit with a scantily clad female elf on his lap.

“What the—” someone says, just as Nana Mayberry screeches, “What is this about, Sweet Tea? You did not run this by me, and I’m the official co-host. Put a stop to this nonsenseat once.”

“Just wait,” Harry says, although it looks like some of the wind has been taken out of his sails. “It’s not the right video. When you see the correct footage, you’ll all be blown away.”

The PA hustles to fix the problem, blushing furiously, and a new video appears on the screen. I recognize the pool room from Labelle Manor. Nana Mayberry’s voice blares over the speakers, and our mouths gape as we listen. I glance at Nana just as she launches herself at Harry, whose eyes bulge in horror.

“Not again,” he shouts.

“You’ve ruinedeverything,” she shouts back, grabbing onto his shirt and shaking him.

“She’s going to kill me!” Harry yells. “Help! Help! There’s murder in her eyes!”

Jonah lets out a yelp, and the other guys look like frozen deer, but I nearly fall over my feet trying to get up in my dress, which wasn’t designed with sitting in mind. I don’t need to, though, because someone steps out of the reading room, and a strangled sound escapes me because it’s him. It’shim.

Rowan pulls his grandmother off easily, restraining her. He’s dressed in one of his flannel shirts, the sleeves snug around his big arms, and his mouth is pressed into a serious line. Someone else might find him foreboding, from his intense expression to the bulk of him, but I’ve never been happier to see another person. It feels like my body naturally arcs toward him, like it’s reaching out for him without my explicit permission.

“You idiot,” Nana shouts at him, her face contorting. “Howdareyou turn on me after everything I’ve done for you. You’ve never been worth—”

“How dareyou!” I seethe, finally managing to get out of my chair. For some reason it feels insane to be sitting through this. “He’s helped you his whole life, and for what? You’re anawfulwoman.”

Admittedly, he was trying to mess up her show, but it seems like she did a pretty good job of that herself. I can feel everyone staring at me, but my eyes are on her calculating, narrow-eyed expression.

“I chose poorly in you,” she says spitefully. “You’re a foolish, bleeding heart—”

“Finish the video,” Rowan says flatly. His eyes are on me, but the words aren’t for me. It’s then I realize the PA paused iton a particularly unflattering still of an eyes-half-closed Jonah gripping a folder of what must be incriminating photos.

My gaze instantly returns to Rowan, and I find him staring at me, his eyes hot.

What does it mean that he’s here, that he’s part of whatever Harry’s doing? Hope is kindling inside me, but I don’t want to let it get out of hand. I’ve seen what fires can do.

“I’m leaving,” Nana Mayberry says sharply, pulling to release herself from her grandson’s grip. He lets her. They both know he could stop her without raising his heart rate if she were to attempt another grab at Harry or anyone else. “I don’t need to put myself through this abuse. All of this was my vision, and—”

“You said you were leaving?” Harry asks, now almost cocky. “Because that would be for the best. I’ve already shown this footage to the producers, and you’re fired, of course. Old Sweet Tea over here is the new host of this show, no co-host necessary.”

I grin at him because I’m proud of how far he’s come. He’s not afraid of her anymore. He’s not afraid of Oliver anymore either, and that’s a beautiful thing. Part of me wishes he’d warned me about all of this—about Jonah’s role in the fire, about Nana, aboutRowan—but I understand why he didn’t. Harry has sharp instincts for what makes for good TV, and I’m guessing my genuine shock was part of his plan. Given everything he’s been through to get to this point, I don’t blame him one bit.

Nana Mayberry gives us one more withering look, pausing to make it extrafreeze you to your soulwhen she reaches Jonah. Then she walks out the door without retrieving her coat, as if she can’t be bothered to get cold.

“It’s time,” Rowan says again, nodding to the PA.

I keep my attention on Rowan, not the video broadcasting on the screen, but I glance back at it when I hear Marcus croon, “No fucking way.”

We all watch as the curtain falls onto the smoldering photos. As the fire starts.

“We don’t know that’s what made the house burn down,” Jonah says defensively, squirming in his chair now.

“No,” Harry says, more confident now that his nemesis has been ruined. “The other option is that you burned it down by making cookies. Either way…” He tilts his head to the side and lifts his shoulder. “No one will ever enjoy the rooster room again.”

“He has a good point,” Colton says. “Not about the rooster room, but about the cookies.” His gaze flicks to me. “You know, you really shouldn’t eat cookies anyway if there’s a chance you have ulcerative colitis, Kennedy. They say—”

“She doesn’t have ulcerative colitis, you dimwit,” Jonah says, his face red. He finally gets up from his chair. “She’s been tricking us. I’m not the only one who’s been up to something I shouldn’t have.” He points an accusatory finger at me. “Kennedy snuck out of the house in a disguise.”

“Spoiler alert, Jonah,” I say. “You’re not getting your Rolex back in the ceremony tonight.”

“Well, this isjust great,” he says, kicking the leg of his rocking chair. It rocks back and then forward sharply, hitting him. He starts hopping on one leg, then scowls at me as if it’s my fault. “I pretended to be a virgin for you.”

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