Page 73 of The Jinglebell War
Ugh, guess I’m not getting out of it that easily. “I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t believe in love or marriage or monogamy and I don’t really want to have kids without a partner I can trust will stick around for the long haul.”
“You don’t believe in love,” he says, his tone all disbelief.
“I’ve never seen it. I’ve never seen one happily married couple stick together for more than ten years without ending up hating each other. I don’t want that and I certainly don’t want to bring kids into the world if that’s the best I can offer them.”
“I’ve seen it,” he says. “It’s real.”
“Are you talking about your terrible parents?”
He sighs. “They aren’t terrible parents. They just can’t see that I’ve changed and they believe what they want is also what’s best for me. They’re misguided. But they love each other. They’ve been partners in business and in life for decades, and I still see the love in their eyes when they look at each other.”
Shit. As much as I want to argue with him, I saw it too. And not just in their eyes, but in the way his mother noticed when his father was in pain and made him sit, and the way his mother’s glass was never empty, because his father kept it filled. They were aware of each other and caring for each other constantly. “The one exception to the rule, I guess.”
“My aunt and uncle are the same. And my cousin Janelle and her wife. And my best friend from high school and his husband. I can give you ten relationships that are happy and monogamous.”
“Or they just seem that way from the outside.”
“Maybe. I still say love exists and a good, happy relationship is possible.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask. “A good, happy relationship and a passel of kids?”
He laughs. “What’s a passel of kids?”
I can’t help laughing along. “I have no idea. Isn’t that a word you use out here in Colorad-ah?” I pronounce it the way locals do.
“Not one I’ve ever heard.” He pulls down a narrow gravel driveway. It’s too dark out for me to have any idea where we are.
“Are you taking me into the woods to kill me now that my fake girlfriend job is done?”
“I’m taking you to my house so we can open all those presents you took from my sister.”
Honestly, I hate how happy this makes me. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him and that’s so, so dangerous. “You didn’t think toaskif I want to go to your house.”
“I’ll take you home after we open presents, if that’s what you want.”
His driveway is long and dark, but then he drives around a curve and there’s a small log cabin lit with so many Christmas lights the interior of the truck cab is entirely lit up and bright as day.
“Wow. Like Christmas much?”
He laughs. “You think I’d move to the jolliest town on earth if I didn’t love Christmas?”
“I just assumed it was far enough away from your family but still close enough you could run back to them in an emergency.”
“I’m going to assume you meant emergency with them and not take that personally.” He opens his door and gets out.
“You can take it however you want to take it.” I hop out of the car and start toward the house.
I’m halfway across the snow-covered yard when something smacks me in the back. I’m only wearing a light sweater over my dress, since we left in such a hurry, so I feel the hit full force.
I spin to see Garrick in the truck headlights, bent over and packing another snowball.
He’s up and raising his arm before I can make my own snowball. I shriek and race for the house. His snowball lands with a thunk in the snow next to me.
The snow is ice cold against my bare hands, but I ignore the pain as I scoop up snow and pat it into a ball. I stand and spot Garrick on the other side of his truck. I run that way, my feet in heels sinking into the snow.
As soon as I have him in sight, I raise my arm and aim.
Barry appears from seemingly nowhere and leaps on me with a joyful bark, knocking me backwards into the snow.
