Page 65 of Bitter Beats

I smile at my girl. Give her hair another affectionate tug. “Then we gotta bake some cookies, babe.”

“Now?”

“What else would we eat for dinner?”

“Dinner?” She sounds confused.

“We need to be full before going to the Seaport, or we’ll eat too much lobster bisque. That’s never a good look.”

“The Seaport?” Oh, her bewildered eyes.

When I realize she’s not kidding, I gape at her. “Mckenna, wait, what’s your middle name?”

“Eunice.”

“Eunice. Hmm, would have taken you more for an Ann. Or a Marie.”

“Mav!”

I chuckle. “Mckenna Eunice Byrne, have you never, in all your years living in Boston, enjoyed Snowport at the Seaport?”

A cloud passes through her gaze. She stares at me. Fiddles with the thin gold chain around her neck. Sighs heavily. “No.”

“No!” I shriek. “Well, now I know what we’re doing tonight. No girlfriend of mine shall shun Snowport!”

Mckenna drops her head. Her hair swings forward, and she stands still.

Shit. What did I miss? Did something awful happen at Snowport that I don’t know about? Is this connected to her childhood, and that’s why she doesn’t want to go?

I step closer to comfort her, then I notice her shoulders shake.

“Mckenna.” I give her arm a little nudge.

She lifts her face, and it’s beautiful. I mean, it’s a mess, but God, is she gorgeous when she laughs. Right now, she’s hysterical. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, smudging her eyeshadow and leaving mascara dots on her eyelids.

Her mouth is curled in mirth as a stream of genuine joy pours from her lips. “No girlfriend of yours! Snowport?”

At her nonsensical summary of our conversation, I shake my head. But the longer Mckenna laughs, the harder it is not to join in. No, not hard. Impossible.

I snort, and then, I’m howling with her. The two of us are bent over, clutching our stomachs and leaning on each other for support, as the absurdity of our lives hits us full-on.

Mckenna and I are in a fake relationship. I bought a damn Christmas tree for a woman who clearly doesn’t care for traditions. And yet, I wouldn’t want to share this magical time of year with anyone else.

When our laughter subsides, Mckenna drags a hand across her face. “Oh, God, Mav. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”

I nod. I can’t remember either. “Hey.”

She looks up.

I give her my most sincere look. And I don’t even have to fake it. “Let me take you to Snowport. Please?”

Mckenna bites her bottom lip. Her expression grows serious as she holds my gaze. That cloud flickers in her irises, but she blinks it away. “Okay. Yes.”

I grin. “All right. First, I will bake you the best Christmas sugar cookies you’ve ever had.”

She lifts a skeptical eyebrow.

I shrug. “It’s a Warren Willoughby recipe.”

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