Page 35 of Merry Me
Enter Steve.
He married my mom when I was nine, after a year of beingthe kindest, most patient man in existence. He was there for everything—every scraped knee, every missed bus, every ridiculous school talent show.
He never acted like he was filling someone else’s shoes.
He just built us a whole new pair.
From then on, he became the only man I would ever call Dad. He’d adopted Paige and me, and I carried his name proudly. He’d never once made me feel like I was anything less than his. Not for a second.
But…the lessons from my bio father had stayed.
Like tiny paper cuts I kept reopening without realizing. I think it’s why I’d pulled the ripcord on Easton the second L.A. had become a reality. Like I’d seen warning signs that didn’t actually exist. I’d convinced myself it was better to leave than get left. Better to tear it down myself than wait for someone else to light the match.
I knew for a fact that Steve and my mom had a rule in their marriage about no overnights…and I was pretty sure that one hadMomwritten all over it. Because if a man was close by, he was less likely to forget who he was coming home to. Or at least that would be her thinking.
“I don’t think you should go back to school,” Dad said with a wink, even though he was as rabid of a Tennessee fan as I was. He’d painted the garage orange and white one summer, and he refused to let anyone park in it until football season ended.
“We miss you too much,” he added, tugging me into another quick squeeze.
“Missed you too, Dad.” My voice came out muffled against his chest, thick with emotion. Honestly, way too much emotion, considering the number of inflatable reindeer staring at me from the window display over there.
He pulled back, his hands firm on my shoulders as he studied me. “You been eating enough? You look too skinny.”
I rolled my eyes, the smile creeping back onto my face. “I’mfine. You’re the one who needs to lay off the protein shakes. You’re starting to look like you’re trying to fight Thor.”
He snorted, pleased with himself. “Hey, old man’s gotta stay in shape. I’ve got to keep your mom interested somehow.”
“Please stop talking,” I begged, pretending to gag as I backed away. “There are Christmas cookies here. I don’t want to associate them with…that.”
His expression sobered a bit, and he gave me thedad look—part concern, part curiosity, and one part the overwhelming urge to fix something he wasn’t sure was broken. “You sure, sweetheart? School and work going okay? I’ve been picking up extra hours at the shop just in case…you know, if you need anything.”
That familiar ache flared in my chest, the one that always showed up when he tried to do more than he had to. He’d stepped into our lives and hadn’t stopped trying to prove himself since…like loving us wasn’t enough on its own.
“Dad, I promise. I’m good. The grant covers everything.”
Even as I said it, the words tasted like a lie. Not because the grantdidn’tcover everything. But because I now knew exactly who was behind it.
For some reason I didn’t tell my dad about that, though. Nor did I tell him about the fact that I was trapped in a bed-and-breakfast with my movie-star ex-boyfriend who I’d just seen naked in our shared suite.
Nope.
That little nugget was getting shoved into a box and duct-taped shut until further notice.
“I’m good,” I repeated, louder this time, like I could force it to be true.
Dad studied me for another beat, and for a second I thought he might push. But then his eyes crinkled at the corners, and he nodded, ruffling my hair with one calloused hand.
From across the lobby, a high-pitched cackle echoed like a warning bell.
My head whipped around just in time to see MeMawperched on a velvet love seat by the fireplace, sipping cocoa from a mug shaped like Santa’s butt and eyeing me like she kneweverything.
Which, honestly, she probably did.
MeMaw had powers. Unspoken, terrifying, possibly telepathic grandmother powers.
I turned back to Dad and forced a laugh. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice wobbling like a busted ornament.
But I wasn’t.
