Page 62 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Kennedy finishes the cookie and wipes her hands primly on the napkin before throwing it into the pumpkin-shaped trash bin. I swallow a scoff.

“The reasons I like it have nothing to do with money,” she says, meeting my eyes and holding them. I feel a weird stirring inside, like I missed her, and now that she’s here, I don’t want to step away from her. There’s a sudden, sharp awareness that we’re in a bedroom, and even though it looks like a kid’s room, there’s still a bed. A big bed. I’ll bet it’s soft.

I clear my throat and pick up a ceramic horse. The head falls off.

“Shit.” I say, dropping it. It shatters on the floor. “Fuck.”

Kennedy surprises me by laughing. “So you prefer Halloween and the headless horseman to Christmas?”

“What are the odds that was priceless?” I ask.

She waves to the little figurines all around the room. “What are the odds that they’ll notice?”

“Probably a lot lower if we hide the evidence,” I say, smirking at her.

“Put it in the dresser.” She smiles back at me.

I bring it over, and she comes with me. When I tug on the handle for the top drawer, she opens her mouth to say something, but she’s not quick enough. I’ve already slid it out, and it’s full of silky panties, green and gold and red, like her obsession with Christmas has slid into her underwear drawer. This woman obviously brings out something strange in me, because I want to bury my face in them. I want to stick a pair in my pocket. Instead, I look at her mutely.

“They won’t find it there,” she says.

“No, I guess not,” I tell her. Then I swallow and nestle the pieces of the horse inside, setting a few pairs of underwear on top.

She watches me do it, her pupils dilated, and I know without asking that we’re both thinking of the other night, of the way I pulled off her panties and made her come. I’d like to do it again. I’d like to throw her onto that princess bed and show her something truly magical.

Instead, I swallow and shut the drawer. “Why is it magical then, Princess?”

She takes a step toward me, then another. I feel my will crumbling like one of those cookies. “Remember what I told you about my parents’ Christmas Eve party? It’s a whole event. They spend a ton of money on caterers, gift bags, that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good time,” I say, my lips twitching. She takes another step toward me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of someone’s presence…of the space they take up in a room.

“It’s terrible,” she says. “But one year, when I was six, I had a cold. My mother refused to share the same air as me because she wasn’t going to cancel her party for anything. My dad either. But they didn’t care about Nanny Rose or Olive getting sick, so they sent me home with them a few days before Christmas. And that’s when I realized what Christmas was supposed to be like. When I was feeling better, we went caroling with these big travel mugs of hot chocolate Nanny Rose made for us, and then we went to see Santa Claus at one of the big box stores.” She smiles in reminiscence. “My mother had never let me do that. She would have been scandalized. And we baked cookies together. We knew Santa came to visit us on Christmas Eve, because the next morning the cookies we’d set out were all gone.” She shrugs. “It was the best Christmas I ever had.”

“Your parents chose a party over you?” I ask, irrationally pissed. It wasn’t like my parents were any better, but I hated the thought of her being sent away so they could hold some stupid fucking party.

She smiles at me, but there’s plenty of sadness in it this time. “They always do, Rowan.” She takes another step toward me. “I have my brothers, though. Both of my brothers, but Phillip has always tried to follow in our father’s footsteps. Zach never fit into them.” She worries her lip in her teeth. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’d rather you heard it from him, but I think it might help you.”

“What?” I ask, interested in spite of myself. I’m spellbound to the bit of floor beneath me, like I can’t move away, but I also can’t move toward her.

“Our parents disowned Zach because he found out that our father wasn’t his biological dad. Our mother had an affair.”

A surprised “Oh shit” tears out of me.

Her mouth lifts slightly. “Exactly.”

“The fact that they disowned him isn’t exactly making me want to tell my sisters about all of this,” I say wryly.

“Ididn’t disown him,” she says fiercely. “In fact, we’ve become much closer since he told me. It changed our relationship and put us on equal footing.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Because you can’t be on equal footing with someone if you don’t trust them with your feelings.”

I laugh and adjust my weight, my feet still frozen. “Fuck, if that’s true, then I’m not on equal footing with anyone.”

That look of hers drills into me. “But you could be. They’re your sisters. They’ll want to go through this with you.”

I think again about Willow and how she’ll only be here for another few hours. “My sister Willow’s in town,” I say numbly. “And Ivy. They’re the ones I should tell first.”

“Why don’t you invite them out for coffee or a drink?” she suggests, just this side of bossy. It’s enough to make me scowl, because I grew up with a natural disinclination to do what I was told, but she blushes and slinks back a step, which I didn’t want.

“Okay,” I say.

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