Page 10 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“Right. Bubble tea.” Asher smacks his forehead, then juts his thumb toward his brother. “I was in Theo’s office when I placed the order. Nearly bought the wrong thing. So glad I’ve got my worldly big bro on standby to help me woo my baby girl.”
A metallic clang ricochets through the room as Theo drives the poker into the hearth, sending the stacked wood clattering in all directions.
I jump at the sound, pulse spiking.
He doesn’t even flinch.
“Well, I’m thrilled to see this change in you, Ash.” Willow gives her brother's bicep an affectionate squeeze. “Before you told us the happy news, we were all so worried Sienna’s wed—”
“Will.” Evangeline shoots her daughter a warning look. “We don’t need to dwell on the past.” Her voice is gentle but firm, the smile pulling her beautiful face a little too tight. “Let’s keep the mood festive, all right?”
Willow blinks, then nods. “Sorry,” she says. “Anyway, your girlfriend was just about to share your romantic hometown plans with us. Right, Isla?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I was?”
“What’s on the docket? Snowy sleigh rides, mistletoe kisses, hot tubhookups—?”
Evangeline gasps theatrically. “Willow Rae Thorne! That’s the family hot tub you’re volunteering for debauchery!”
“No need to sound so scandalized.” Willow waves her off with a smirk. “I’ve had the misfortune of walking in on you and Dad during one of your…dips. You’re both getting chlorine for Christmas.” She shudders dramatically. “I’ve also ordered bleach for my poor, traumatized eyes.” Her melodic laughter rings out, pulling everyone into its glow.
Well,everyoneexcept Theo.
Posture rigid, jaw set, he continues to keep his distance. The flames hiss and spit under his stare like they know they’re being judged—and flunking the performance review.
Welcome to my world.
“Maybe we’ll give Starlight Summit a try,” Asher suggests, sliding his hand around my waist. “What do you say, Gingerbread Ginger?”
A stunned huff slips past my lips. “To trusting your vintage vanity project to get us up the mountain? Or about that crime of a nickname?”
“Mountain,” he clarifies, making no apologies for his abysmal alliteration. “That’s a couple-y thing to do, right? On Christmas Eve, we’ll climb to the summit, wish for eternal love, and seal the deal with a kiss at midnight. Test the legend and see if the lore comes to life.” Pulling me closer, he starts to lower his mouth toward my cheek.
My threatening glare is ripe with warning—don’t you dare kiss me or I’ll bite—but he’s not looking my way.
He’s staring across the room. At Theo.
Which means now, so am I.
When our eyes lock, Theo’s entire frame tenses, shoulders stiffening, muscles rippling beneath his sweater. A rough breath tears past his lips, and his death grip tightens around the poker.Then, with sudden, jarring force, he slams it into a log, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.
Firelight erupts, catching the severe cut of his jaw and the volatile intensity in his gaze. The sheer magnitude of it sends a shiver through me—one I’m certain Asher feels, given our proximity.
Without a word, Theo flings the metal tool aside and stalks out of the room, taking his stifling presence with him.
A thick, heavy silence follows. It’s broken only by Willow’s attempt to lighten the mood with what I assume is a joke. I have no clue what she actually says. Even delivered in her brightest, most buoyant tone, the words fail to register.
All my senses converge in my chest, holding an emergency meeting to dissect the unease twisting under my ribs.
Why should I care that Theo stormed off?
Good riddance—right?
But also…
Why does his anger excite me?
Five
