Page 129 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Danger. Do not engage.

My life is enough of a mess. I don’t need to get mixed up in someone else’s. Yet, when I think about the vulnerable look in Mary’s eyes, I still want to help her.

And when I think of the lust I saw there, I want to strip her naked.

Thatis why I need to come clean with her, because screwing Mary O’Shea is the worst idea I’ve had in years. I suspect Mary is unraveling, and all it will take is one hard tug for her to come undone.

I’m a fuckup who broke his mother’s heart so thoroughly it killed her. I’m in no shape to help anyone put their life back together. Hell, I can’t even duct-tape my own.

Not that Mary O’Shea would be interested in a man like me. I’m sure she lives in a restored bungalow with matching furniture and curtains and a mountain of throw pillows. The kind of house I’d work on but could never afford to live in. I live in a one-bedroom apartment with a leaky shower, furnished with thrift store finds. A woman like her would never see me as anything more than a one-night stand, if that.

I’ve had plenty of one-night stands, especially since I got out of prison, but for some reason, it bothers me to think of Mary that way.

“There, there,” Mrs. Rosa says, patting my hand again. “It will all work out.”

“There’s nothing to work out.” I pull my hand away, ready to change the subject. “Hey, did I mention that I got a promotion? I start next week.”

Roger wants to hear all about it, and so does Mrs. Rosa, but the gleam in her eyes lets me know she’s onto me, and we’re only discussing my new responsibilities because she’s allowed it.

As if the topic of Mary O’Shea is merely being set aside for the time being, to be resurrected later.

As if there were something wrong with my life the way it is, something Mary O’Shea might be able to fix.

But I like my life just fine. It’s quiet and predictable, and there’s no need to consider changing it.

So why can’t I get the image of a naked Mary, lying on her silky sheets and begging me to fuck her, out of my head?

I’m telling her about my incarceration. Tomorrow.

Better to put an end to this now, before I get attached to Aidan.

Or to both of them.

CHAPTER FIVE

MARY

For some reason, I find myself agreeing to join Nicole’s club. She has a weird kind of power over me. Maybe it’s because she sincerely doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and part of me admires that. No,allof me admires that. There’s an art to not caring, and it’s one I’m pretty sure I’ll never master, if only because it’s the kind of thing where studying doesn’t get you very far. But with her as my teacher…

Maybe I can learn to care slightly less.

Maybe I can discover who I want to be beneath all those layers of worrying about what other people think.

Plus, a little voice in my head whispers that all this rule following, all this control I’ve sought and wielded hasn’t gotten me very far. It hasn’t made me happyorsecure, the way Mom promised it would. Maybe it’s time to try something different.

Like listening to a guru with pink hair and an attitude problem.

“Do you have any contact with Glenn?” Nicole asks.

I shrug. “Not much. I got him to sign a separation agreement acknowledging that we’ve been living separately since January, so I’ll file the divorce papers after New Year’s.”

“Good,” she says, flashing those sharp teeth. “That gives us time.”

I don’t get a chance to ask what she means by that because she follows up with, “Why’d you marry a man who’d never made you come?”

The question catches me off guard, but no more so than the answer that slips out. “He…asked.”

“Oh, sweet Mary,” she says with a cackle that implies she doesn’t find me so sweet. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin when you met?”

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