Page 23 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“No,” I lie, my tone sharper than necessary.
Her smile falters, but she instantly recovers, pulling up an even brighter grin. “I see.”
“How about you? Picked out any names for your future Greene-Thorne brood?”
Knowing my brother, he’d want a whole damn van full.
“I…” A burst of pink stains her cheeks as she bites down on her lip.
So, shehasthought about kids with Asher.
Apparently, I’m a masochist, because I let myself picture it. The two of them, so bright together, building a life full of joy and sunshiny babies.
A searing surge of envy cuts through me, mixing with a possessiveness I have no right to feel.
You missed your shot.
Handed it to your little brother on a silver fucking platter.
“Santa!” Jovie wiggles on my shoulders, boots digging into my chest. “Santa! Santa! It’s our turn, Teddy! Let’s go!”
I lock my grip around her shins before she faceplants into Rudolph. As soon as I set her down, she bolts toward Old Saint Nick—or rather, Nicholas Nightingale—whose jolly “Ho, ho, ho!” snaps me back to reality.
Though Nick has grown out his white beard for the season, the belly is all padding. Despite trying to eat his way through half the Spoon & Slice menu on the daily, the town librarian is still a wiry wisp of a man.
“Come on, little lady!” His kind eyes crinkle above the rim of his silver glasses as he waves Jovie over, motioning to the space next to him. “Tell me what’s on your wish list!”
She squeals as I lift her into the sled. Thankfully, Santa visits no longer require lap access. A much more inclusive—and hell of a lot less creepy—move.
As Jovie and Santa chatter like old friends, Isla pulls out her phone and drops into a crouch to preserve the moment. She expertly toggles between photo and video modes, capturing a variety of angles. We both know all too well how much it hurts Willow to miss any moments with her daughter.
“Last one! Big smile for Mommy!” Isla chirps, laughing as Jovie strikes another pose worthy of a red carpet. “Perfect!”
Nick chuckles, adjusting his fluffy red hat. “Looks like we’ve got a star in the making.” He grins and shifts his attention to Isla and me. “Your turn!” He pats the bench behind Jovie. “Get over here for a photo, you two.”
“Us two?” Isla frowns, lowering her phone.
“That’s right! Let’s snap a nice family picture, then I want to hear all about your list.”
“We’re good,” I bite out. “Too old for lists.”
“Oh, poppycock!” Nick chortles. “There’s no age limit on Santa’s magic.” He turns to Jovie. “Did you know I make grown-ups’ wishes come true, too?”
My naive niece’s mouth pops open in awe. “Really?” She bounces in her seat, evidently thrilled by the idea. “Tell him your wish, Teddy Bear!”
“Yeah,Teddy Bear.” Isla’s lips curl into a teasing smile. “Go on.”
“Seriously? You’re buying into his scam, too?”
“Santa’s no scam. Stop stalling and tell the man what you want for Christmas.”
Fuck me.
“Fine,” I mutter, sweeping my hand out in front of me. “Afteryou.”
“Oh, no,” she says with a headshake. “It’s okay.”
“No?”
