Page 42 of Falling for the Forward

“Well, the other night, wine gave me the balls to message him. I told him I passed the bar and would love to celebrate over drinks sometime.” She grabs my arm, biting her lip as she grins. “He said yes. He fucking said yes. Professor Lumberjack is going to be balls deep in me within a week.”

“Or...he just wants to catch up with a former student.”

“Psst. He’s gonna be catching my ankles and putting them over those big-ass shoulders, girl. Sweet baby Jesus, this is my Christmas miracle. I just know he’s gonna have a big”--she glances toward the dining room--“brain. God, I hope he leaves his glasses on.”

“I’m happy for you. Now let’s go decorate gingerbread houses.”

“Mine’s going to be a brothel. A little candy den of sin where gingerbread men go to wreck slutty little gingerbread women.”

“Okay, one track mind. You need to go get some supplies from my storage bay before you start air humping.”

“That’s fair.”

Dex and Harry are helping the girls use frosting to attach the walls and roofs to their houses when Mara and I walk into the room. I’ve just sat down to start working on mine when Carter comes in.

“Hey,” he says, his gaze meeting mine when he walks into the room.

The past month we’ve gotten into a nice routine. He’s been busy with hockey, but on his off days, he always hangs out with us. He’s reading Hallie Harry Potter and teaching Charlotte how to play hockey.

“Hey, I set up stuff for you if you want to make a gingerbread house,” I say.

“Make one, Uncle Carter,” Hallie says. “Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He sits down next to Hallie and I feel his eyes on me. I blew my hair out this morning and did a full face of makeup instead of my usual messy bun, foundation and mascara. I’m wearing a black V-neck shirt that’s lower cut than I realized until I put it on, with jeans and ballet flats.

Darling comes into the room, nose to the ground as he snorts and looks for something to root around in. I’ve had to move all my beloved houseplants out of his reach because he can’t resist rooting in the dirt.

“What the hell?” Mara blurts. “I was just here two weeks ago and he’s gotten so much bigger.”

Darling weighs almost sixty pounds now. He eats everything in sight but is very good-natured and loves snuggling with the girls.

“Yeah...” I look at Carter. “I found out at our last vet visit that Darling isn’t actually a micro pig,” I say. “He’s just a regular old hog.”

Mara’s jaw drops. “Seriously? How big is he going to get?”

I send soothing vibes Carter’s way before I answer. “Somewhere between two hundred fifty and five hundred pounds.”

He sets down the tube of frosting he’s holding, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I already told him this, but it seems to be causing him a fresh wave of aggravation.

“Five hundred pounds!” Olivia cries. “We won’t be able to hold him anymore.”

“Did the breeder misrepresent him?” Dex asks Carter.

“I’m going to ask my friend Leo. He’s the one who set it up for us.”

“We’re still keeping him, right?” Charlotte asks, her tone worried.

Carter blows out a breath. “We can’t have a five-hundred-pound farm hog in the house, Char.”

“No!” Hallie cries, tears filling her eyes. “I love him!”

“He might only be two fifty,” Olivia says hopefully.

I lock eyes with Carter and say, “We’ll make it work.”

“Does that mean we don’t have to get rid of him?” Charlotte asks.

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