Page 32 of Stay for Me

Jigs put a second ribeye into the skillet, the sizzle filling my ears, and the smell—fuck, I was starving. “You want a tree, boy, then you need to go chop one down and bring it in here,” he said. “No one is going to do it for you.”

“Don’t forget to water it,” Beau added, closing his eyes, hands folded atop his abdomen.

“Water it?” Lance or Lawson parroted. I didn’t know which one it was, but again, I didn’t really care.

Beau groaned. “Yeah, idiot. If you’re going to have a real Christmas tree, you have to water it so it won’t catch on fire.”

The twin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What the hell? Why didn’t anyone tell me that?”

Jigs shot me a look before turning around to look at the twin. “Are you as stupid as I think you are, or is it all just an act?”

A low chuckle left me before I could stop it. Jigs was a funny bastard, I’d give him that.

“Lance, I know what I want for Christmas this year,” his brother, Lawson, said as he came out of the bathroom.

“What’s that?” Lance asked.

“For you to shut the fuck up.”

A rich laugh came from Beau, and his father grinned. I knew he was happy to hear that sound again. That was a Christmas gift within itself.

Five Hours Later. The Main House.

Thesharpteethofthe harsh winter night air nipped at my skin as I stepped onto the porch, feeling like I could fucking breathe for the first time in hours. I inhaled a deep breath, letting it go slowly and watching it drift higher into the air before fading altogether. The tension in my shoulders finally lessened as I brought my hand to the back of my neck, hoping that would relieve the strain.

Fuck, I needed a cigarette. Or a whole pack. Maybe a carton.

I’d been at this fucking Christmas party far longer than I’d wanted, lingering in the corner like some creep, watching Beau and the twins make Diana laugh from afar.

“What did I do to deserve this special version of hell?” I asked myself underneath my breath before taking a swig of my beer as I walked to the far corner of the porch.

Kings would whoop my ass if I gave him an Irish goodbye, but there was no way I could go back in there, not with Diana laughing the way she was, the bright color in her cheeks, her fresh highlights shining in the glow of the Christmas tree.

No.

There was no way in fuck I’d be going back into that house.

She was one more heavenly laugh away from me throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her down to the bunkhouse. All night, I’d been plagued with a sense of jealously, one I’d never experienced before—ever. I didn’t like the way Beau was smiling at her, and even though I knew he was hopelessly in love with Abbie and heartbroken over her, I still wanted to break his jaw for making Diana smile back.

I wanted her smiling at me.

I wanted her laughing at my jokes.

You don’t have any, dipshit.

I leaned against the house, hidden in the shadows in case anyone decided to come looking for me, and tipped my head back. Every year, being around her became increasingly more difficult, despite only seeing her once every three months or so. There wasn’t a lot Kings needed her for anymore, not when Cathy was behaving. So, whenever she was here, I only got a glimpse of her which was more than enough for me.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be this difficult, but all I could focus on was the sweet peach scent that clung to her deep red dress and the matching lipstick painted on her bow-shaped lips. She had her glasses on tonight, something I hadn’t seen since the spring. They made her hazel eyes bigger, magnifying their beauty and the purity within her soul.

From the moment I’d walked in, I’d been in agony.

She’d been playing a game with Caleb by the tree when I finally arrived. I avoided her, going into the kitchen to have something of a conversation with Chase, the sheriff, but what we had to discuss wasn’t appropriate for a damn Christmas party.

Eventually, Diana made her way to me like I knew she would, greeting me with bright smile and cheerful spirit that had every cell in my body stilling. It was in her nature to make sure everyone felt included—even the cowboy who didn’t want to be. She was doing it to be polite, to spread her little light to anyone within her reach.

I didn’t know which was worse: being addicted to her light or seeing her smile up at me like I was Superman.

The screen door popped open suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts, and my head snapped up, my eyes locking on her curvy frame as she put her cell to her ear.

---