Page 87 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Harry had one too many of Holly’s chocolate peppermint schnappsicles last night after getting home from a long day at the house, and he spilled the whole story. I snuck into the Labelles’ house to see Kennedy afterward, just like I’d be doing right now if she weren’t out on a one-one-one date with Marcus.

Marcus is the one who bothers me the most. Jonah’s no threat to anyone but the gene pool, Colton’s too stiff to interest someone who’s as in love with life as Kennedy is, and I can’t even remember the name of the other dude who’s still on the show. But Marcus looks like a goddamn movie star, and despite his stupid rivalry with Jonah, he actually seems like a decent guy most of the time. Which makes him one dangerous asshole.

“You look constipated,” Holly says, throwing a fry at me.

“I’m angry.”

Her mouth pulls to the side. “You’re angry because your woman’s out with someone else. What are you going to do about it?”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“No, I manage that very well without trying,” she says. “But I can tell you really care about this woman, Rowan.What are you going to do about it?”

“Wait and see,” I repeat, popping the fry she threw into my mouth. I’ve already polished mine off.

She gives me a look of distaste, although I’m not sure if it was prompted by the dirty-fry eating or the fact that I’m an idiot. Either would be a fair enough point. I reach forward and steal another of her fries.

“So you think you’re going to win this woman over by sneaking into her room every night and—”

“Holly, watch yourself.”

She lifts her hands up, palms out. “Far be it from me to call you out for being a slut, but I will point out that you were a realbuzzkill when I told you about my enemies with benefits plan with Cole.”

“Well look how that turned out,” I say with a smirk.

“Yeah,” she says, lowering her hands. Her expression is almost sad, although I’m pretty sure she’s not sad for herself. No, this expression is dangerously close to pity. For me. “I’d say it turned out pretty well.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks with fake innocence. “All the same, maybe fill me in on how you’d likeyourcomplicated situation to turn out.”

I’m almost grateful when our little sister comes around with a couple of beers. She’s been working at the brewery for the last couple of days. I guess Jay sent her out of the house because she’s an extrovert, like him, and he could tell she was desperate for company. Meanwhile, he’s been getting near hourly visits from neighbors and friends and friends of friends, many of them divorcees and widows who have heard about Kerry’s defection. So Ivy figured she might as well get going with her research. She sets the beers in front of us, and Holly gives her a mock-serious look. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we didn’t order these. This is most irregular.”

“Ma’am, your ass,” Ivy says, claiming the chair next to Holly. “And Cole told me to send them over. He said you looked like you could use them.” Her gaze shoots to me, and I’m struck again by her resemblance to myself. By the knowledge that we have more in common than I ever thought possible. “Are you talking about Rowan’s love life? Because I’ve only heard bits and pieces from all of you. Harry told me some stuff too, but I’d like to know more. This is the kind of juicy shit you don’t stumble into every day.”

“Jesus, does Harry know how to shut his mouth?”

“Not when he’s been offered peppermint schnappsicles.” She gives a jaunty wave in his direction, and when he glances over at us, he has the decency to look slightly ashamed. Oliver’s laughing. I haven’t seen him look so happy in a long time, definitely not since he was sucked back into Highland Hills’s orbit.

I didn’t sit Ivy down for a heart-to-heart talk about Kennedy because I’m still not altogether sure how to talk to her, now that I know. I’m also genuinely worried she’ll use this as inspiration for a romance novel that other people are going to read. I’ve never liked having my personal business put out as a party platter for strangers to eat. I’ve never liked getting knowing looks from people I don’t, in fact, know. I’d much prefer for people to mind their own business and leave me to mind mine.

“Harry wouldn’t need to tell us stuff if you would,” Ivy says intently, her gaze fixed on mine. “So why don’t you?”

Holly bumps her side into Ivy’s in the booth. “It’s because he has the emotional constitution of a constipated guinea pig.”

“Fuck, I have no idea what that means, but is this what’s going to happen now that Ivy’s back in town for a while? Are all of you going to gang up on me?”

“Alas, poor Rowan. We knew him well,” Holly says.

“While we’re on the topic,” Ivy says, staring at me, “Harry says you’ve been sneaking into the mansion every night.”

“Goddammit,” I say, glaring at him. “It’s only been two nights.” He must sense my attention, because he darts a panicked look at me, his earlier cool fading. He points at himself as if to say,who, me?I glare back. He’s had his last schnappsicle.

“He also tells me that he hasn’t gotten anything on Nana yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” I bite out. “She’ll slip up. She can’t help herself.”

Ivy lifts an eyebrow. “You mean she’ll be sexually harassing men forty years her junior in no time?”

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