Page 184 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

I want toknowthis man who befriends his neighbors and who can make me come multiple times in one night.

“Just for a few minutes,” I press. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but Idowant to get my way.

“Did you hear her, Mrs. Rosa?” Roger sputters. “Just a few minutes. Can’t say no to an offer like that, Jace.”

My cheeks heat, but I don’t look away from Jace.

He gives a firm nod, then turns toward Roger and Mrs. Rosa. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

Their nods confirm it’s a regular thing, and then Mrs. Rosa rushes up and gives me a hug.

“You give that cake to your sweet boy, now,” she says. Because she’s already given me a huge piece in Tupperware for Aidan.

“I will.”

I mean it. If anyone can get him to eat, it’s this woman.

Then we’re crossing the hall to Jace’s apartment in silence, my heartbeat in my ears, my confidence suddenly flagging, because it’s obvious he doesn’t want to bring me there.

But as we reach his door, he takes my hand and squeezes it, the sensation bolstering me.

He opens the door and gestures for me to go in first, which I do. I take a quick glance around while he closes the door, and just as I remembered, it’s a blank slate.

“What is it, Mary?” he asks, turning to me. He runs a hand through his golden-brown hair, the tips unruly and long. “I’m sorry if this was all a bit much. I know I agreed to your terms. If you’ve changed your mind, it’s your right.”

“No, no.” I hurry up to him, putting a hand on his arm, and I immediately know it’s a mistake, because his bicep under that thermal shirt is firm and perfect, and it gives me all kinds of thoughts that have nothing to do with why we’re in here right now.

“No,” I say again, more firmly, removing my hand. “I’m so grateful you brought me here. It’s just…I…”

You’re presuming. It’s not okay to ask him something so personal.

But I want to. I want to. And Nicole challenged me to stop apologizing for the things I want.

It’s just a hunch, but…

“Your sister doesn’t know why you stole that car, does she?”

He couldn’t have looked more surprised if I’d spontaneously turned into a jellyfish and stung him. His features dip into a severe look that would be a little frightening if we hadn’t spent the morning looking for his eighty-year-old best friend’s cat.

“I don’t believe in making excuses for myself.”

Something tells me his father taught him that, but I don’t say so. I just wait.

He throws his hands up. “I fucked up, Mary. Big time. She’s not obligated to feel a certain way about it.”

“But you had a reason for doing it,” I say, certainty pounding through me. “You didn’t just take that car out for a joy ride and decide to destroy it. I know you had a reason.”

That certainty thrums through my words. The look on his face tells me that I’m right and he’s not quite sure how to feel about it.

“Yeah, I had a reason,” he says, still gruff, still a little angry. “I doubt she’d be interested in hearing it. That car belonged to my godfather, the man who stepped up and took care of my mother and sister after my father died.” His words are shocking, but he says them with so much bitterness, so muchhate, that I know there’s more to the story. The man I’m getting to know wouldn’t do something like that on a whim.

“What did he do, Jace?”

Of course, that’s when my phone rings with a FaceTime call. It could be Molly, tired of waiting for the story and determined to track it down, but I have to check anyway, because (a) it could be Aidan and (b) something terrible could have happened to him.

I nearly fumble the phone on its way out of my pocket, and I flinch when I see his name on the display.

Aidan will want to know where I am. He’s not the kind of kid who won’t ask, but I still have to answer his call. I have to. I could no sooner ignore him than I could stop breathing.

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