Page 130 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

But from the way she says it, she already knows.

Still, I feel my cheeks heat. “Lots of people marry their first.”

Glenn had checked off all the items on my list: (1) handsome but not too handsome; (2) driven and ambitious; (3) wants kids; and (4) comes from a close family. He’d admitted to making a list of qualities he wanted in a partner too. It had been a matter of pride for us—we were the smart ones, the ones who had goals and strategically pursued them.

But it had felt hollow at the core.

I used to dance ballet when I was a girl, and the feeling I got in the middle of a performance, the unbridled joy and freedom of it, would have lit a bonfire. The spark I’d felt with Glenn probably wouldn’t have lit a candle. Actually, although I haven’t told anyone, certainly not my sisters, I was on the verge of breaking up with him when my parents died. After that…well, I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to take another risk, to make another change. Molly had chosen to live with Maisie anyway, not me, and it had felt like there should be a reason for that.

Our marriage was empty from the beginning—a model-house kind of marriage—but I’m glad I went through with it. Because otherwise I wouldn’t have had Aidan. And although my worry for Aidan is a weight that’s constantly pressing on my shoulders,it’s only because I love him with every bit of bone and whisper of soul I have.

Nicole gives me a pointed look. “And lots of people live sad, frustrated little lives, but that’s clearly not enough for you. He’s not going to be a problem, is he? He hasn’t been sliding into your DMs?”

I’m not quite sure what a DM is, but I’m not a total idiot. I know better than to say so.

“I haven’t talked to him in a long time.” My chest gets a funny, heavy feeling, like an elephant is sitting on it. “In the beginning, I texted him a lot. Sent him pictures, told him about Aidan’s progress. I…hoped he’d change his mind.”

My mind flashes to Glenn straightening the tag on his suitcase, saying,I’m not cut out for this. Having him was a mistake.

Like he had buyer’s remorse, and our child was something he could return to the store.

My hands ball into fists.

“You wanted to stay married to him?” she asks in disgust.

“Of course not,” I snap, “but I wanted Aidan to have a dad. We lost our father when Molly was still in high school, and I saw how hard it was for her.”

“My dad left me when I was a kid,” Nicole says with a snort. “But he was a cheater and an idiot. Losing a dad doesn’t hurt as much as having a shit one.”

Maybe she’s trying to be comforting, in as much as she’s capable of it, but the thing is, I’m not so sure I want Aidan to end up like Nicole, all sharp edges. He’s so innocent, so sweet-natured, and I worry what will happen when the world turns on him and shows its claws.

Oh, so you’d rather he ended up like you and Maisie and Molly? Shocked to discover his father isn’t the person he thought?

But I have enough issues without being attacked by my own thoughts, thank you very much, so I just give a little shake of my head. “I send him updates about Aidan every so often, but he rarely responds to them. He’s made it very clear he’s not interested in sharing custody. In fact, once it became clear to me how unlikely he was to change his mind, I asked him to sign over all parental rights. He didn’t hesitate, meaning any contact they have is on my terms now. His parents still want Aidan in their lives, though, and they’ve been taking him every other weekend.”

Nicole scoffs. “Do they know their son is a spineless piece of shit?”

“Yes,” I say. Because they do. Tom and Ruth are great, actually, legitimately great. “They’re still trying to get him to come around, to at least call Aidan on Christmas or send him a present. They’re beside themselves.”

Nicole waves dismissively. “We won’t worry about him right now. If he has half a brain, he’ll leave you alone.” A laugh escapes her. “I kind of hope he doesn’t. He has no idea who you have in your corner now.”

I’m still a bit afraid of her—she’s fierce and wild—but she knows herself in a way that I envy, and I find her words strangely reassuring. Because, for whatever reason, she’s chosen to be inmycorner. Maybe it’s time to let someone else help me.

“You and I are supposed to tell each other our life stories before we begin this process,” she says, waving a hand flippantly. “Or at least that’s what they did in the original Bad Luck Club. But Damien and I are role-playing tonight, so I have to cut this short.” Before I can wrap my mind around what that might mean—and what it would be like to be so free with a man—my reaction vacillating between horror and intrigue, she continues, “Besides, I think we should do things a little differently. We’re interested in getting you to break some rules, not follow them. The original club only meets every other week, but you needwaymore helpthan that. I’m going to issue challenges to you at least once a week. Maybe twice.”

Nicole toys with her nose ring, making me cringe. Surely she won’t ask me to get a nose ring or a tattoo…

My mind flashes to Jace. I noticed a swirl of ink disappearing under the sleeve of his work jacket. What would it be like to see the whole tattoo on its muscled canvas? Does he have more than one?

The thought makes me squirm uncomfortably in my seat, because even thinking of Jace like that—naked—is enough to make my body spark to attention. To send tingles of pleasure to the forgotten parts of me.

“What are you thinking of right now?” Nicole asks, a smug look on her face.

“No one,” I start, then realize I’ve given myself away. “Nothing.”

“Too late,” she says triumphantly. “You were thinking about a man, and based on the way you’re blushing, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your pencil-dick ex.”

“It’s someone inappropriate,” I mutter. “Wildlyinappropriate.”

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