Page 49 of Still Beating

“Read it. You might like it.” Cora spares me a final glance, then blows a kiss to Mandy as she moves to the door. “Merry Christmas.”

She disappears outside, her sugar cookie scented body mist trailing behind her.

Mandy puckers her lips, studying the book in my hand. “We can donate it. She’ll never know.”

I trace my fingers along the cover, smiling at my very first Christmas present from Cora Lawson. I shrug. “Nah. I think I’m going to read this one.”

I stare at her across the kitchen island while she helps her mother slice the ham. Her hair bounces back and forth along her back in champagne waves, her emerald dress landing mid-thigh, and a serrated carving knife shaking in her right hand.

“Want me to finish up, sweetheart?” Bridget proposes, and I wonder if she sees what I’m seeing.

Cora dismisses the offer with an abrupt shake of her head. “I got it.”

Slice. Slice. Slice.

Back and forth. Careful and slow.

I want to slide up behind her and wrap my arms around her petite waist, whispering in her ear that it’s okay. Everything’s okay. But I can’t do that because my fiancé is standing beside me posting Christmas memes on Facebook and she wouldn’t understand.

“Oh, my God. Allie is engaged!” Mandy announces, beaming with excitement as she taps away at her keypad, reindeer ears bobbing atop her teased head of hair. “She better ask me to be a bridesmaid.”

Slice. Slice. Slice.

“Ooh. I forgot Allie’s brother is recently single—do you think Cora would go for him?”

My eyes shift from Cora’s careful cuts to Mandy sipping on a glass of holiday punch. “What?”

“Jason. Remember we went to his Superbowl party? He was dating some chick then, but Iswearhe kept checking my sister out.” Mandy slurps her punch through a red straw. “Cora thought he was cute.”

I don’t realize I’m tensing my jaw until it starts to ache. “It’s a little soon, don’t you think?”

“She’s been single for three years, Dean, and she’s almost thirty.”

“Yeah, but she’s still recovering from a trauma. She’s probably not looking to date.” I chew on my cheek as I avert my eyes back to Cora, who successfully finished carving the ham and is now transferring the slices to a festive serving plate. “She needs more time.”

Mandy glances up from her phone and her cocktail, a knowing grin blooming on her face. “You’re protective of her now, aren’t you? That’s so stinkin’ sweet. You’re like a worried big brother.” She releases a whimsical sigh. “I always knew you two would work out your issues.”

Fuck. The term ‘big brother’ makes me want to gag. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, as her sister and primary wing-woman, I’m going to set something up. Maybe we can do a double date to ease her into it.”

My jaw keeps ticking, and I want to slap it. “I don’t think I liked Jason.”

Actually, I don’t even fucking remember Jason, but I’m confident I don’t like him.

Mandy gives my chest an affectionate pat. “You don’t have to like him. You’re not the one who’s going to get naked with him.” She shoots me a teasing wink and chugs down the rest of her punch.

My stomach feels queasy as my mind flashes with images of Cora getting naked with some douchebag. It’s way too soon. And maybe I am protective, but how can Inotbe? I’m the only one who understands what she endured during those three weeks in Hell. If anyone is going to have her back, it’s me, and I won’t apologize for it.

I make my way over to the alcohol cart adorned with a bowl of spiked punch and rum-infused eggnog. Mandy and Cora’s little cousins are running around, chasing each other with red and green glow sticks, while the adults mingle in the living room awaiting supper. I spoon myself some punch with the ladle and chug back the entire glass in a four gulps. Then I serve myself another glass, then another, until I’m feeling well-past buzzed by the time dinner is over and we’ve made our way to the Christmas tree for the gift exchange.

I’m sitting on the floor with my back to the front of the couch, my legs splayed out in front of me as Mandy sits behind me and rubs my shoulders. I’m nursing my sixth, and hopefully final, glass of punch, watching with bleary eyes as Cora unwraps one of her gifts across from me.

It’s a sweater.

She forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. No one seems to notice but me.

It’s my turn to open a gift.

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