Page 63 of Booked for the Holidays
When I finish, the girls are looking at me with mixed expressions. Polly is grinning. Skylar’s brows are furrowed, confused and pondering. Lucy’s smile is smaller, more coy, like she knows something no one else does. Chandler appears on the verge of a heart attack.
“So this man stood outside in the middle of a thunderstorm, begged you to get off the ladder because you were scaring him, helped you to the ground, took you to his house and… while your clothes were drying, he fed you. Did I miss anything?” Skylar clarifies.
“The shower,” Polly adds. “You forgot about the shower.”
“Right. You were naked in his house.”
“I wasshowering, not parading around in the nude.”
“I think it’s cute,” Polly says. “He was worried about you and offered a solution. Normally, men only like to hear themselves speak, but Theo did something about it.”
“He didn’t give her much choice, did he?” Skylar counters, tapping her chin. “What else was she going to do?”
“I’m still trying to process the fact this man has some sort of kindness in his heart,” Chandler muses.
“Are we forgetting he has a daughter, too?” Lucy asks. “He’s hot,a dad, and obviously cares about Bridget.”
“Okay, he doesn’t care about me,” I interject. “I was distracting him.”
“I’m sure your dress sticking to your body was the worst thing he’d ever seen,” Skylar draws out.
It doesn’t compare to how he looked at me when I walked into his kitchen wearing his clothes. The material was soft, warm, and well-loved. Traces of fabric softener and wood, maybe, hung on the sleeves. I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent ofTheo. When his gaze roamed my body–he didn’t bother hiding the perusal–he was pleased. Proud, possessive. He licked his lips after, satisfied with the findings. When I went to hand the shirt back to him after I’d slipped back into my dry dress, he turned his back and muttered a rough “keep it.”
So I did, the gray article now tucked in my purse next to my cell phone and wallet like it’s belonged there forever. Maybe I’ll sleep in it tonight, savoring the scents of Theo clinging to the material.
“How old is Mac? She’s cute,” Lucy says.
“Almost thirteen. The bastard sprung her on me one day at work. I also watched her at the store for a little when he was busy one afternoon.”
“Do we know what happened to her mom? Is it an awkward custody situation?”
I know Theo said it was okay to tell the story, but it feels wrong to share all the details. It's a deeply personal portion of his life. Even with his permission, I appreciated hearing the story fromhim, not from someone else. Instead of divulging the truth, I shrug.
“No. She’s not in the picture. That’s it. I still can’t believe I didn’t know he had a kid. Ms. Greta never mentioned it. I’ve never heard any whispers about her. You’d think that would be a piece of gossip she would go feral over.”
“Speaking from experience,” Chandler interjects, “Ms. Greta never talks about shit that personal. Kids are off-limits and people who are… well, anything involving a police report or someone’s health are also out of her self-proclaimed jurisdiction. Some stuff we want to keep to ourselves, you know? She could’ve… but she didn’t. And I respect that.”
I give Chandler a sad smile, fully understanding what she means. “I respect it, too. Mac’s important to him, and I’m glad he’s able to tell people howhewants, not how others want.”
“Can we expect Theo to be around more?” Polly asks.
“Oh, god, no. I mean, I highly doubt it. This wasn’t a prince-saving-a-damsel-in-distress ordeal. It was more like an angry man pissed off by a stupid girl. I don’t know what I was thinking, standing up on that ladder during the storm.”
“I’m glad you’re safe. I know you’re committed to the contest, Bridge, but come on.” Lucy is the motherly figure out of all of us. She spends her days teaching high schoolers art history and doubles down on academia by coaching the crew team. It’s where we became friends almost twenty years ago.
“It won’t happen again,” I promise.
“Speaking of, how is the contest going? Some of the shops I passed last night looked outrageous. It was like Christmas threw up on them.” Polly wrinkles her nose.
Practical and professional, she’s a theme park engineer whose love language is calculus. She’s the first female head engineer in theme park history. Regularly engaged in disagreements with her arch nemesis Chase, from the rival theme park up the highway, she’s grown into a fast-thinking, quick-talking spitfire. Her idea of decorations involves an artificial tree and a single stocking over her fake fireplace. Minimalistic and straight to the point.
“It’s awesome so far. The hardware store employees are really enthusiastic, constantly asking what else they can do to help.”
“Probably because they need a break from the tyrant that is Theo.” Chandler scoffs.
“Wow,” Skylar says. “She really needs to get laid. I like her better when she’s getting some action. She’s always a little nicer.”
An avid basketball fan and sports broadcaster for the Orlando Wizards, the professional team in town, Skylar is constantly calling out internet trolls, fielding dating requests from crazed fans, and breaking barriers and glass ceilings in the male-dominated industry. Preferring sneakers over heels, Sky could school almost anyone on the court. She went viral last year after challenging a guy to a game of HORSE after he claimed she was hired because of her looks rather than her basketball IQ.
