Page 19 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
Why did it have to be this good between them?
If he were just an ass, it would make ending—well, not easy—but not this painful.
The worst part was that she understood his position. He’d opened up on many occasions, pouring out his soul to her with stories of being in primary school and working odd jobs like walking dogs and washing cars to come up with extra cash to buy bread and milk to help feed the family when his dad would go missing for weeks on end. He was the youngest of five brothers and had fallen in with the wrong crowd at a young age, getting into fights and scuffles. Nothing major, but enough to get him sent to the principal’s office on more than one occasion. It was art that saved him and carved out a new path forward. He’d thrived in art school, quickly garnering praise and accolades from their professors and an almost cultlike following from their fellow students who were amazed by his unique ability to take a functional, everyday object and turn it into something show-worthy.
His relationship with his brothers was strained, even these days. One of his nephews was currently serving time for minor theft and drunken and disorderly conduct, and another had been in and out of jail for drug possession. Anytime he got a text from one of them, he would sigh and say, “See, this is why it’s just you and me, Jill. Can’t pass on these genes.”
“You’re trembling,” Owen said, scooting closer to her and wrapping a muscular arm around her shoulder. “Are you cold?”
“Yeah,” Jill lied. “Italy to this is, uh, temperature shock.”
“Don’t you worry; once we get to the cabin, we’ll cuddle up under a pile of blankets and find a way to stay warm?” His voice dropped low into that sultry tone. The one that made her heartflutter and flop like a lovesick teenager. His smile turned slow and sexy, filled with a touch of longing.
Jill smiled, but she felt far from happy. Her heart was hammering, but not for the usual reasons. She leaned into him just enough to play the part, trying to calm the spiraling thoughts assaulting her brain.
As they pulled into the long turnaround in front of the lodge, her stomach clenched.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Not for Matt.
Not for Meg.
Not to face the truth that she still hadn’t figured out how to speak out loud.
She sighed and concentrated on her surroundings. The gorgeous old-world structure took her breath away. The main lodge looked like something out of Disneyland, with its dark wood exterior and slanted roofline covered in mounds of snow. It reminded her of a gingerbread house, with the wafts of smoke puffing from the massive stone chimney and elegant wreaths adorning the arched windows. Dainty, intricate snowflake lights and garlands with whole clementines, cinnamon sticks, and ruby-red berries were draped from the eaves and wrapped around the banisters. Two Christmas trees flanked each side of the entryway. And a wreath nearly the size of their camper van hung from the giant wood doors.
“When you said cozy, rustic lodge, this is not what I pictured.” Owen let out a low whistle, admiring the building. Pathways lined with more twinkle lights led to groups of cute and cozy cabins scattered around the lodge, as well as a massive, steaming outdoor hot tub, a charming fire pit complete with tents and bright red Adirondack chairs, and a ski rental shop.
“I knew Lucinda’s family had money based on the invitation, but not this much money. No wonder they call her Bend’sheiress,” Jill replied, unbuckling her seat belt and pulling away from Owen.
“Yeah, well, fingers crossed she’s not a total nightmare.” Owen exhaled slowly through his nose. “Let’s just hope she’s the rare kind of rich—not a sociopath. Money like this messes with people. Makes them think they’re above us. I’ve seen it before.”
“That’s not fair.” Jill felt her skin prickle. She’d told Owen about her family trust, but they’d never gone deep into her parents’ wealth and property portfolio. In part because of this exact response. He’d grown up without much, leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth about anyone who came from money. He had strong feelings about entitlement that clouded everything, including how much she was willing to tell him about her own background.
“Come on, you know how it is with people like this.” The edge of Owen’s lip curled into a snarl. “She probably has people who wait on her hand on foot. I can only imagine how pretentious she’s going to be.”
Jill inhaled slowly as she exited the car. “I don’t know. I trust Matt. He’s a good guy with a big heart. I can’t imagine he’d be with a partner who didn’t share those values. I’m going to keep an open mind, and you should, too.”
Owen softened a little. “Yeah, okay. Well, maybe she’s fine, but if she’s not, and she acts like she owns the air we breathe, I’m stealing all the fancy catered desserts and blaming it on the deer.”
Jill laughed in spite of herself and laced her hand through Owen’s.
He always made her feel safe. He knew how to make her smile.
Moments like this made her want to believe they could make it work.
She wished things could stay this easy and simple. But nothing about this weekend was going to be simple.
TWELVE
JOHANNA
The alarm blared early the next morning, rousing Johanna from a deep sleep. She hurried to shower, dressing in layers and tucking her gloves and knitted hat into her carry-on bag. She did a once-over of her apartment before she left for the airport. Connor’s flowers would be dead by the time she returned, which was the perfect symbolism for their ill-fated affair.
Connor Howard—Connor flippingCoward.
What the hell?
