Page 7 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Jonah is still wearing his robe for our waltz, and I’m still wearing Marcus’s jacket. They’ll definitely ham that up in production—Jonah’s a rude klutz, and is Kennedy still wearing Marcus’s jacket? Gasp! It’s funny to imagine but slightly surreal.

After the waltzes end, Harry grins maniacally at the cameras and says, “Well, it’s not easy to say goodbye, but it’s almost time for the first Rolex ceremony, folks.”

“Of course,” Nana Mayberry cuts in, stepping in front of him, which would have been more effective if he weren’t so much taller, “We’re going to need to consult with Kennedy first, Sweet Tea.”

That’s her nickname for him, although I can’t pinpoint the reason for it. Harry likes his tea half sweet and half not, so maybe she doesn’t think he’s properly Southern. Whatever her reasons, they’re probably not kind. I’ve come to realize there’s very little kindness about her. She’s certainly not the warm, fuzzy kind of grandmother who gives hugs and offers fresh-baked cookies. If there are blankets in her house, they’re probably like the ones my mother purchases—for show.

The guys are sent off, probably to somewhere warmer, but Marcus insists on leaving me with his jacket. I don’t object. Once they’re gone, Nana Mayberry and Harry hustle me into a small sunroom attached to the ballroom. It’s still cold. The cameras crowd in with us, and Harry ushers me over to the couch and fusses over my dress as I get settled. He then sits across from me in a chair, Nana Mayberry in a slightly taller one next to him.

Something tells me she planned that. One cameraman crouches to the side of us and another is facing me.

“Now, before we start,” Nana Mayberry says. “Jonah is on the no-cut list. You can’t send him home.”

“What?” I squawk, my gaze shifting to Harry.

He gives me a sympathetic look, scrubs a hand over his buzzed hair, and nods. “Sorry. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with her. He needs to stay until the bitter end.”

Darn it. I was counting on him to be sensible.

“But he’sterrible,” I say.

“Precisely. This is atelevisionshow,” Nana Mayberry says in a withering tone, as if I’m too stupid to understand why there are cameras following us around. “Your future husband is in this house right now, mark my words. Jonah may not be an obvious match for you, but we need to ensure the show stays entertaining. He sticks around.”

“He’s a wild card,” Harry says sympathetically. “People enjoy watching wild cards. It’s why we love dating shows. He’s already made tonight ten times more interesting. Deacon is petulant, and Jeff, Bachelor Number Four, is a bit dull, poor guy. Listening to him is like watching paint dry. Marcus and Colton are both shoe-ins for this first round, and Meathead is…a grown man who calls himself Meathead. Take him or leave him.”

“Take him,” Nana says in an undertone. “Definitely take him.”

“What about the other two?” I ask, struggling to remember their names.

“Someone needs to fill those chairs, huh?” he says with a chuckle. “Quinn and Ray will do a good enough job of that. Leave them and cut the two you don’t want to run into on ice cream runs to the kitchen in the middle of the night. But keep Jonah.”

Crap. I have to admit that they’re right, but it doesn’t make me any more eager to spend more time with him.

Still, I feel like I have to put in a token objection. “So I have to keep him and send someone else home—a guy who might be a good match for me?”

Harry gives me a weighing look. “Kennedy, are you honestly saying you can’t comfortably send home a different guy? I think you could probably send home four.”

He’s right.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Meathead goes.”

Nana scowls. “He’s very good looking,” she snaps. “Having him is good metrics. I was going to suggest we have him lift each of us on camera.”

I’ll bet she was.

“They’reallhandsome,” I say. “But I don’t need someone around commenting on my dietary choices. It’s nearly Christmas.”

“Not in this house,” Nana Mayberry objects, straightening her back.

“It’s still the holiday season. That matters to me. I’m going to eat cookies and drink cocoa, even if I have to make them myself. I don’t need Meathead reminding me of the calorie counts.”

“Fine,” she snaps, clearly unhappy about it. “Meathead goes, but Jonah stays.” She sends a withering glance at Harry. “See, Sweet Tea? I’m capable of compromise.”

He shrinks away from her a little before nodding to the cameramen. “We’re ready.”

As soon as the cameras start rolling, Nana tilts her head, studying me with false concern. “

I don’t think Jonah is a good match for you, Kennedy.”

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