Page 48 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

There’s no longer any doubt that this is indeed their destination. There’s the padding of feet from people who don’t feel the need to go undetected. A murmuring of voices.

I can feel Kennedy staring a hole into my head because we both recognize one of the voices: it’s my grandmother’s cold, clipped voice. What’s she doing awake at this hour, let alone wandering around the Labelles’ house?

The door opens, and a light switches on in the room beyond us.

“Why’d you make me wear my bathing suit if there’s no water in the pool?” a whiny voice asks. I’d know that whine anywhere. It’s Jonah. It’s clearly Jonah.

Kennedy and I exchange awhat the hell is happening?look as my grandmother scoffs, “If you win, you’ll need to do plenty of photoshoots, including one at the beach. I needed to know you were swimsuit ready.”

It’s a load of bullshit, especially since the show will be airing in March, and there’s no way in hell Kennedy would go to the beach with that tool, even if she chooses him because Harry and my grandmother convince her it’s what’s best for the show and thus for her business. I don’t care to think too long or hard about why my grandmother would lie about something like that.

“I’m cold,” Jonah says stubbornly.

“Be a man,” Nana retorts. “Did you bring her the basket earlier?”

“I did,” he says, perking up. “And I added a framed photo of myself.” He seems pleased with himself, as if doing so clinched him a spot in the top two.

“You what?” she asks, clearly pissed by this. “It was supposed to be the best gift,Jonah.”

“Exactly, I made it the best,” he says steadfastly. “I even included a biography of the first Jonah Highbury.”

“Well, no matter,” Nana tells him. “Harry tells me food poisoning usually passes in twenty-four hours. I’ll have to give Kennedy tomorrow off. But we’ll do the horseback riding date on Tuesday or Wednesday, at the latest. Marcus thinks he’s pulling one over on both of us because he went to horse camp when he was a teenager and didn’t disclose it, but there’s nothing I don’t know aboutallof you.” There’s a smile in her voice as she continues, “Just like how I knowyoulike older women.”

Then there’s something that sounds like…

Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.

Kennedy squeezes my hand, looking at me with eyes that shine in the dark, but I can’t even meet her gaze, becausefuck.

I knew my grandmother was a bad person. I’ve known since I was a little boy, when she used to make us play ten to fifteen rounds of the silent game in a row, slapping the hands of the kid who broke first with her ruler. But this is a new low. It’s obviousshe’s giving Jonah insider information and help in exchange for…

I lower to the floor and spear my hands into my hair, willing this day to end already. Maybe this is my just punishment for being here with Kennedy when I know I should be at the hospital with Jay, or at least at home with my sisters, talking about Jay. It was shitty of me to walk out on him like I did, especially if Kerry has already left him. But even so, what man should have to listen to his grandmother attempt to seduce a man who’s at least forty years younger than her in exchange for professional favors?

Kennedy sits beside me and silently wraps an arm around me. I clearly haven’t learned my lesson because I lean into her, grateful for the comfort she’s offering.

The kissing noises on the other side of the door stop, thank fuck, and I hear Jonah say, “Are those footsteps?”

“They are, you idiot. Put your clothes back on.”

“I didn’t wear anything besides the suit,” he says in a panic.

“Then what’s that shirt under the deck chair?” she asks, frowning.

I can hear some furniture shifting, and he must’ve held it up because she hisses, “Who’s been leaving the house?”

“Well, some of the people on the production team are allowed to come and go,” Jonah says pragmatically. “And you and Harry. And all the guys have snuck off at some point or another.”

“There isn’t supposed to be any sign of Christmas on set,” she says, sounding like she wants to off the entire population of Whoville. “What are you doing?” she snaps. “Put it on. Quick.”

“But it’s not mine,” he says in obvious disgust. “What if I catch a disease from it?”

“You can’t catch a disease from a shirt, you nitwit. Put. It. On.”

I feel a scowl twisting my face because I don’t want that asshole wearing the shirt Kennedy bought for me, but it’s my own damn fault for leaving it out where it could be seen.

“Should we go into that locker room?” I hear Jonah asking, and my back stiffens in preparation to… I don’t know. I’d be perfectly fine with punching him, but I’m not going to uppercut my grandmother. She’s no sweet little old woman, but she’s still family.

Kennedy’s obviously worried—I canfeelher worry—but she runs a soothing hand up and down my back. For some reason, it really does make me feel better.

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