Page 138 of Show Me How
Her son huffs, not buying it as he runs a hand over his shaggy blond hair. “You know why she’s not here. We’re not going to get into it today of all days.”
Millie slips her hand beneath the blanket on her lap and takes my hand, threading our fingers. I let her, squeezing with the silent promise of explaining things to her tonight once we’re home.
“Did you invite Rowe?” I ask Ash.
He frowns, nodding. “He couldn’t make it.”
Shelly’s husband, Kirk, walks past Ash and takes a seat on the armchair by the fireplace. His dark features have grown weathered, giving away his age. His eyes are still as sharp as they were the day I met him as a kid, though. It’s impossible to keep anything from him.
His son struggles beneath the weight of that stare, knowing better than I know the way it can break down even the strongest-willed man. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s the reason Rowe isn’t here today.
“We’ll save him a plate. You can bring it to him later,” Kirk says firmly.
“He’d appreciate that, Dad.”
Kirk tips his chin in agreement. His wife stares at him, her brows knitting together for a blink before she claps, her expression transforming.
She announces, “It’s time for presents.”
“We haven’t even had dessert yet,” Ash argues, patting his stomach.
Millie swings her gaze to him, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Don’t act like you weren’t in the kitchen eating all the mini cheesecakes I brought. There’s some on your collar.”
“You know, when you and Tilly meet, you’re going to get along great.” Ash stares down at his shirt, thumbing away some filling and licking it off. “It’s like I have a sign on my back, begging to be teased.”
“It’s more like a tattoo on your forehead.”
Ash looks at me like I’ll help him out here. When I shake my head, leaning closer to Millie, he mouths “traitor” at me.
Shelly ignores their bickering and moves to the Christmas tree, starting to sort the presents beneath it. Her husband watches with a soft, fond expression, looking so unlike the man he shows the rest of the world.
Millie moves the blanket over my lap, covering the both of us. My smile is instant as I look over at her, soaking up the warmth in her eyes and on her cheeks.
“I couldn’t exactly bring your present here with me,” I tell her, keeping my voice low so only she can hear.
“That’s okay. I’m saving yours for tomorrow.”
“Is it you in a sexy Santa outfit?”
A choked noise escapes her. “No. But I should have just saved my money and thought of that.”
“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” I scold lightly, nipping at the tip of her ear.
“Shut up.”
I pull back with a soft tease. “Such a sore loser, princess.”
When she pinches the back of my hand, I laugh, squeezing her fingers tighter. Shelly brings the two of us a present and sets it on our laps, waiting expectantly. It’s wrapped to perfection in pastel pink paper and a ribbon a few shades darker.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Open it,” she says, nearly squealing with excitement.
“Already? Nobody else has anything yet?—”
Cutting off Millie with a pat to the head, Shelly rushes out, “I know you won’t stay for much longer before heading home, so please just indulge me and open one before you go.”
“You got it, Shelly,” I say, looking to Millie. “You do it.”
Her fingers fly over the ribbon, untying it before her nails are cutting through the paper. As the wrapping falls away, I narrow my eyes on what looks a lot like a photo album.
