Page 230 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“If you had, he would have figured out how to have you locked up for it,” I say firmly. “Which is exactly what he wanted.”

I can tell he’s seething with frustration, with helplessness, and I take his hands, needing him to know exactly what he means to me, and what it meant to me to see Aidan go to him earlier.

“And you don’t need to be sorry for the way he treated me, because in a roundabout way, it led me here. It led me back to myself, and it led me toyou.” Emotion chokes my voice. “The way Aidan went to you earlier…it made me think. I know I’m getting way ahead of myself, and if this absolute freak show hasn’t completely scared you off, then maybe I’m going to do that now, but I…”

Fear pokes at me, telling me that I’m going to chase him off, that it’s too soon, that I should stop while I’m ahead (or behind), but I’m sick of listening to fear and judgment and what-ifs, and I’ve learned to push past them. So I finish, “But I love you.I love you.And I can see us having a life together, and it’s a life I like, Jace. One I love.”

The look in his eyes shifts, like the ever-changing ocean, and they’re so achingly warm as he pulls me to him, lifting me. I wrap my legs around his waist, confident in the knowledge that Dottie’s with Aidan and won’t let him run out here—knowing that we’ll go in there together and make sure that he’s okay. Then Jace is kissing me, his lips warm and confident, and the hot press of them makes me warm inside. We lose ourselves for a moment, and then he pulls back, my legs still around him. “I fucking love you, Mary O’Shea, and I have no intention of going anywhere.”

There’s a stirring in the background, and then Glenn calls out, “What’s going on? Are youkissing?”

Jace and I exchange a look, and we both burst out laughing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

JACE

I stayed at Mary’s house until after midnight last night. Glenn came to pretty quickly, and then Mary told him about the evidence she had in her possession. It didn’t take him long to figure out he was at a disadvantage and take off, although he made every moment in his presence unpleasant for all of us. Aidan was asleep by then, thankfully, but I haven’t had a chance to see him today, and it may be awhile yet.

I texted Amanda early this morning asking to see her today, assuring her it was legally in her best interest, since I knew she wouldn’t show otherwise. She replied saying she’d meet me at 11:00 a.m.

My hand is slick on the steering wheel of my truck as I drive down Main Street in Sydney. I haven’t been here in three and a half years, and it feels smaller and dirtier, like a pair of scuffed shoes I’ve outgrown. The same tired Christmas decorations line both sides of the street—candy canes wrapped with worn tinsel. I was so eager to come back after I was released from prison, to come home, but Sydney stopped being home a long time ago.

Amanda agreed to meet me at the gazebo in the park at the edge of downtown, but part of me thinks she won’t show. She’snever been one to make smart decisions. Working with Lester is proof enough of that.

I’m a few minutes early, but her old sedan is already parked next to the curb—the same car she’s had for over a decade. It’s cold today, so there’s no one else in the park other than a faded plastic Santa and several plastic reindeer. The city has reused them since Amanda and I were kids.

I pull into a space, grab the manila envelope off the passenger seat, and get out. My sister is huddled on a bench in the gazebo, sitting in the sunshine. She’s wearing a dark blue corduroy coat I recognize from before I went to prison and a gray stocking cap over her long, dark hair. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in person in years. She glances at me as I walk toward her, but she doesn’t get up to greet me, instead keeping her hands stuffed in her pockets.

As soon as I reach the top step, she says with a sneer, “What’s so all-fired important we had to meet on Christmas Eve? I’ve got baking to do.”

I come to a stop in front of her, but I’m towering over her, which is not how I want to have this conversation. So I take a couple of steps back and sit on the bench on the opposite side of the table, placing the envelope in front of me. “I know what you did, Amanda.”

Her gaze darts to the envelope. Then she leans her arm on the short wall behind her, a smug grin stretching her lips. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, little bro.”

“With Lester.”

Fear flickers in her eyes, but spite chases it away. “I think you’re confused. All that Asheville mumbo jumbo’s gotten to you. You’re the one who wronged Lester.”

“I know you fed him information about our family business.” My voice is tight, and I’m more emotional about this than I expected. “You’re the reason Hagan Construction failed.”

Her face pales for only a split second before she turns indignant. “Did you become a crackhead after getting out of jail?”

“No, Amanda,” I say calmly. Weirdly enough, I’m past being angry about her betrayal. I’m just sad and hurt. Amanda’s always looked out for number one, and I’ve never ranked very high on her list. Thankfully, Ben does. If she’s number one, at least she cares enough to make him a distant second on her list. “I have a good job and a good life.” I gesture toward the businesses at the other end of Main Street. “Far better than I would’ve had here.” Then, because I’m hurt and it’s almost certainly true, I add, “Probably better than you have now.”

“You’re probably stealing more cars and selling them for parts,” she snarls.

“Really, Amanda?” I sigh. “Give me a break. You’re the one with questionable morals.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I never hurt Dad’s business.”

Picking up the envelope, I rise from my seat and lean forward to hand it to her, then sit back down.

She takes it and quickly looks it over before her eyes return to mine. “What’s this?”

“Proof.”

Her face pales again, but it doesn’t take long for her self-righteousness to come back. “Proof of what?”

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