Page 92 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

He grins. “By all means. I’m all for a pretending you bought me a drink, and you know that Tina and your sisters are dying to tell us what to do. Let’s let them.”

It’s then that something new burns in my chest. Hope.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

KENNEDY

It’s Thursday, the day before the next Rolex ceremony. Dinner with Marcus last night was…okay. When he’s not around Jonah, he’s a nice guy—confident but approachable—and he told me about his parents and his sister, a single mom. He said he has a special appreciation for Leto’s Hands’ mission after watching his sister go through a messy divorce with her emotionally abusive husband. I told him a bit about my family too. Olive and my brothers. Nanny Rose. But he kept trying to steer the conversation back to Littlefield Bank. To what it was like to be part of a dynasty, and I just felt this bone-deep wanting for Rowan. For his touch and his taste. For his laughter and conversation. Forhim.

Nana Mayberry, who was my “handler” last night, gave me a big talking-to about my failure to flirt with Marcus, whose attempt to lean in for a kiss was rebuffed when I flinched back like he had scabies. My response was to agree to smile more for the cameras today.

“If you think it’s the cameras you need to be smiling for, you need to have your head examined,” she said with pursed lips.

I gave her a smile as sweet as saccharine.

She called me surly and stalked off.

I can’twaituntil Harry catches her on camera with Jonah.

Speaking of Jonah, I went on a group date with the four remaining guys this afternoon. We went berry picking at a local farm. Obviously, there’s nothing on the vines, so we had to pretend to pick from the plants, and the next shots were of us having a picnic with big buckets full of berries that were probably flown in from Mexico. There was nothing charming about it, other than a short visit to the shop, which sells homemade blackberry jams, apple butter, and hot chocolate with whipped cream. There was even a rogue bit of garland hung up by the register that the production assistants and Nana Mayberry had obviously missed.

I bought several jars of the jam and apple butter, along with a huge hot chocolate, figuring I could give the jam as gifts.

Maybe Rowan would like some.

I brought Jester with me on his little leash. He’s clearly no judge of character because he kept trying to approach Nana Mayberry, who holds clear disdain for him. To be fair, she might just smell like beef jerky or bacon. Who knows what she does when she’s not in Labelle Manor trying to control everyone like a tyrannical queen? Maybe she has a jerky addiction and watches those Olsen twin movies when no one’s watching.

I’m supposed to be getting ready for a one-on-one date with Colton tonight, but instead I’m lying on my bed, Jester reclined on my chest, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Rowan.

I’m in love with him.

I’m desperately in love with him.

He’s the person I think about in the morning, the one I’d like to wake up to.

He’s also the person I think about at night.

He’s the person I’d like to build a life with.

But there’s no denying some essential facts. Although we’ve been brought together for this short period of time, our lives arein different places. The thought of dating someone who lived somewhere else didn’t bother me much when I signed on for this show. Because I wasn’t doing it with the real hope of finding love. I figured that if I did, whatever, we’d work it out. Or maybe I’d get lucky and fall madly for some doctor or whatever who lives in the Windy City.

It’s possible Rowan would be willing to go to Chicago with me to see where this connection takes us. Only…I know without asking that he wouldn’t like it. He’s a small-town guy, and he’s already told me this place runs through his veins.

We could try long distance, I guess, but it’s such a very long distance, when all I want is for him to have his arms around me.

“What are we going to do, buddy?” I ask Jester, who rouses from his snoozing for long enough to lick my shirt.

You could stay here, a voice in my head whispers.You could stay in Highland Hills.

There’s a wrenching feeling in my chest because I really do love my job. It was the first thing in my life I ever felt like I’d chosen for myself, not because someone had steered me to it. It was the first thing I felt good at. The thing is, I know my boss, Gayle, is willing to compromise with the people she likes. She let me come here, didn’t she?

Would she let me stay?

What about Olive? Although I don’t mind the thought of leaving my parents several states away, I hate the thought of being permanently separated from Olive and Nanny Rose. They’d visit—I know they’d visit—but it wouldn’t be the same.

I pet Jester, who licks my hand.

“I don’t want to go out with Colton,” I tell him. “I definitely don’t want to go out with Jonah. Or Marcus. Or Jeff. Rowan’s the one I want.”

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