Page 79 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“I’m going to go get changed,” I mutter, my mind elsewhere. Apparently, it’s not enough for me to wear one expensive gown in an evening. I’m supposed to change before tonight’s Rolex ceremony.

“I’ll help you,” Tina immediately offers, stepping forward.

“Me too,” Zach says, though he grabs another flute of champagne from a production assistant before joining us.

“You’re going to help your sister change?” Jonah asks.

“No, I’m going to convince her to send you home.” His eyes are twinkling as he says it, but that’s because Zach could twinkle in his sleep. He very clearly means it, and Jonah can tell.

Jonah glowers at him. “Your suit is a knockoff.”

“No,” Zach says, uncaring. “You know it’s not.”

The three of us go upstairs, Zach casually sipping his champagne. “I hate this house,” he says. “Did I mention that? The show’s even worse because it’s taking place in this godforsaken house.”

“Yes,” I say with a sigh. “You did mention that. You know, they asked us to refer to it as Labelle Manor,” I add, because I know it will make him laugh.

It does, and he adds,

“Every ghost and poltergeist in the county is probably drawn here.”

I shiver at the notion, even though I’m pretty sure the only ghost is Nana Mayberry, skulking about and spying on people.

There are cameras following us, of course, so we stick to small talk all the way to my room.

By the time we get there, I feel drained and depleted. I want to lock the door behind us so we can finish the rest of Jonah’s Scotch. I want to forget about the guys gathered downstairs. I definitely want to forget about Rowan.

But when I open my door, a tiny little bulldog puppy with an enormous red ribbon around his neck trots out to greet me.

My heart explodes in my chest.

“Well, shit,” Zach says. “It looks like there’s a note on his collar.”

Then my heart explodes again, for a different reason. The note readsA princess for a queen. Love, Jonah.

“You think anyone told him this dog has a dick?” Zach asks conversationally.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ROWAN

“She didn’t send Jonah home?” I ask Harry, my hand squeezing hard enough to break the car part I’m holding. I’m in my workshop in the garage, trying to finish the third car this week because I can’t banish Kennedy’s words from my head. Suddenly, messing around and finishing a few of them before Christmas doesn’t feel like enough. I want to do more. I want those little kids to believe in magic the way she does. The way she makes me want to. Except that’s obviously bullshit because, based on what Harry’s saying, she didn’t send Jonah home when she had the chance. Instead, she sent home Quinn and Ray. “Why the fuck not?”

He shrugs and then scratches his head. He does it with feeling, like there’s an itch he can’t get out, something I understand well enough. It’s Sunday afternoon. I haven’t seen him since Friday morning. I guess the last couple days have been busy at the Labelles’ house. My grandmother’s been sending me multiple texts, asking me to “pop by” to do everything from snake the drain in one of the bathrooms the guys have been using to teaching the puppy how to do tricks that would look good on camera. I haven’t answered, but I feel a phantom itch on the back of my neck every time I ignore one of her texts—not because I feel bad for ignoring her stupid tasks, but because she’s giving me an excuse to see Kennedy, and turning her down feels like taking a shot of battery acid.

“He claimed he gave her the puppy,” he says, keeping his voice pitched low, like he’s afraid I’m an animal that’ll pitch a fit if he’s not careful. I don’t like that I’m coming off that way, but I can’t deny that I want to break something. I set down the mangled car part and grab a piece of waste wood to squeeze instead. The little splinters bite me, but I couldn’t give a shit.

“So she obviously would have looked bad if she sent him home after that,” he continues, “plus she…” Scratch. “We think it’ll give her a better chance to reveal the truth about your grandmother if we keep her…”

Boy toy? Fuck stick?

“Paramour around.”

“That’s a fancy way of putting it,” I growl, throwing a piece of waste wood into a bucket. “But she knows that I really—”

“She knows the puppy’s from you,” he finishes. Then his eyes brighten and he rummages in his pocket, coming up with a sealed letter. “She asked me to give you this.”

I just barely stop myself from lunging for it. Truthfully, these last few days have been hell. I’ve gone about my business, preparing the light display at the mayor’s house, helping put out a kitchen fire that started at an old guy’s house because he tried to microwave a packet of pop tarts, and working on the cars. My sisters all went to see Jay again last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. He was discharged from the hospital earlier today, and Ivy is helping him settle in at home. Holly is with Cole at the brewery. Oliver is helping his mother reorganize the house now that his father’s sleeping downstairs. His dad’s new meds make him dizzy, and going up and down the stairs multiple times has become a health hazard.

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