Page 49 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
“Been a while for me too.” Three flips the sandwiches. “But you’ve been taking care of me the past two days, so I wanted to take care of you for a change.”
Whoa.
Three wants to take care of me? Now my heart’s not just squeezing. It’s starting to melt. He glances at me, then adds more butter to the pan. “Where did you go, anyway?”
I swallow hard, not entirely sure I can speak without giving away my emotions. “That’s a … it’s a … just a little surprise,” I manage. “But we should definitely eat first since you’re hungry.”
“Well whatever you did,” he says, “thanks for giving me a chance to talk to my sister.”
“Of course.” I blow out a breath, grateful for the change of subject. “How is she? How’s the family?”
“Nella says they miss me, but she wasn’t exactly sobbing into her mai tai.” He presses the sandwiches with the spatula and cheese oozes out the sides. “But honestly, I’m glad they’re good. They shouldn’t have to suffer because I’m not there.”
“That must be a relief.” I fold my arms across my middle. “I’m not sure my mom and dad would ever get over me missing Christmas. And they definitely wouldn’t be okay with finding out so last minute.”
“Yeah, well.” His jaw ticks. “Your familyreallylikes their plans.”
“I’m not suggesting my mom and dad care about me more than yours do. It’s just …” My voice trails off.
“No, I get it.” He lowers the heat and covers the pan. When he turns to face me, his brow’s pulled down. “Christmas Eve is your birthday. And you’ve got that fundraiser thing every year.”
“The gala.”
“The gala. Right.” He sets down the spatula. “That night’s adouble big deal for the Hathaways. Of course your mom and dad want you there.”
“Yes.” I let out a long, wistful sigh. “But can I tell you a secret?”
He meets my gaze, holds it for a moment. “Sure.” The reply is casual, but the way he’s staring at me doesn’t feel so nonchalant.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to go at all.”
“Wow.” Three blinks. “Really?”
“Sometimes.” My shoulders sag. “It’s not so bad now, but being in the spotlight was a lot of pressure when I was young. My parents counted on me and my story to up the ante on the auction and donations.”
“Huh.” Three crosses his arms. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“I’m not complaining, believe me. They have the best intentions, and I’m proud of all the money we’ve raised for Children’s Village. As an adult, I’m honored to be a part of such a worthy cause. But when I was young, all I really wanted was a normal birthday party. With kids my age, and hot dogs and aMy Little Ponycake, you know? Not a champagne tower and caviar.”
Three tilts his head. “My Little Pony?”
“Man, I loved that show. Applejack was my favorite.”
The corner of his mouth curves up. “Nella’s too.”
“She’s got good taste.” I press out a small laugh. “But the gala became less about me and more about what I could do to inspire donors. My dad always gave the same speech about how long it took him and my mom to have their miracle baby. And how important adoption and the foster care system is to creating future families. He makes me talk too, which is fine now, but was totally mortifying when I was a kid. I never knew what to say.”
Three lets his arms drop. “I’ll bet you did better than you think.”
“Still.” I let another small laugh slip out. “I hope my future kids aren’t born on any holidays.” I take a beat,caught off guard that I’m admitting this to anyone. “And if they are, any fundraising I do willnotbe associated with their birthdays.”
Three turns away, peeking under the lid to check on sandwiches. “So. You want kids, then? Marriage? The whole nine yards?”
I shift my weight, grateful that Three’s back is to me, and he can’t see the flush rising on my cheeks. Because yes, I used to dream about my future husband and our imaginary kids.
The whole nine yards.
I planned the perfect wedding long before I ever came to Abieville. But then I met Three and he broke my heart, and I haven’t been able to picture myself married to anybody since.
