Page 164 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“So do you,” she says meaningfully. “I’m glad to see you here. Adalia told me that you went by her studio earlier and bought a painting. I can’t wait to see it. We’re still on for girls’ night tomorrow, right?”

We’re meeting for drinks at a bar, something I can’t really do when Aidan’s around. Or at least I don’t feel like I can do it. Molly keeps reminding me that the whole point of moving to a place where you have several built-in babysitters is to use said babysitters.

“Yes, we’re still on,” I manage.

Then Maisie squeezes my shoulder and heads back to Jack.

“Did everyone think something was wrong with me?” I wonder aloud.

“Oh, most definitely,” Nicole says, handing my drink to me. “But we’re going to work on that.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JACE

“So you start your new job next week,” Roger says as we eat our dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. I actually cooked tonight, which isn’t that hard when you use sauce from a jar and add frozen meatballs.

“More like position,” I say, my gaze on my plate. “And yeah, Monday.” I’m trying hard to focus on what Roger is saying, but my mind keeps skipping back to Mary, which is a bad idea. Aterribleidea.

For one thing, she’s only interested in me because her boring husband likely never went down on her. I’m a “safe” bad boy she can use to get her groove back before moving on to another guy in a suit.

For another, I like Aidan,reallylike him, and if I’m going to be his buddy again, it’s a fucking disastrous idea to get involved with his mother. Then again, Butterfly Buddies hasn’t called me back. Maybe Mary has decided it’s safer to keep me away from both of them.

“You nervous about it?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” I say, realizing he’s scrutinizing me. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re acting different. Like something’s bugging you.”

“I keep thinking about Aidan.” Which is a half-truth.

“Your buddy?”

“Yeah…well, maybe not. Ms. Duckworth hasn’t gotten in touch, so maybe Mary changed her mind again.”

“I thought everything went great yesterday,” he says in surprise as he stabs a meatball. His hand is shaking so much he has to lean over to bite it off his fork.

“It did.” I frown. “Did you call the doctor?”

“I called ’em yesterday, thank you very much,” he grumps. “I have an appointment next week.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“No. One of those ride services for elders is going to pick me up. I already reserved my time.”

“If that doesn’t come through, let me know. I’ll get off work and take you.”

He waves his hand dismissively, then promptly sets it down on the table so I can’t see the way it’s shaking. I know he’s embarrassed by it. Roger used to work in a warehouse, driving a forklift and lifting heavy boxes. I’ve seen photos of him when he was younger, and to be honest, he looked a lot like me. I get why it would be hard to go from being a strong, physically fit man to the shell his body had become. It must feel like a betrayal.

“Maybe his mother got busy and didn’t have time to call,” Roger says.

“Yeah, maybe.” But I know I crossed a line yesterday. I shouldn’t have touched her, yet it’s hard to be sorry.

Mrs. Rosa comes in soon after, carrying a key lime pie. After I eat two slices, I realize I’m going to need an extra-long workout. Who am I kidding? I planned on going for a punishing workout after dinner anyway. It’s better than sitting here, fantasizing about a woman I can’t touch.

Roger and Mrs. Rosa get into a spat about the best mayonnaise brand, and since I have nothing to contribute, I get up and put the dishes in the dishwasher and feed Bingo. Heseems needier than usual tonight, rubbing his side against my leg as I set his food bowl down. I scratch him behind the ear, and he lets out a soft purr instead of his usual hiss. Maybe he knows I need some kind of physical contact.

The revelation catches me off guard.

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