Page 66 of A Not So Merry Rescue
Her lips turn into a frown. “Sleeping next to someone else?” she surmises.
I shrug. “In my bed.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “That’s . . . interesting.”
My eyes spy the time. “Shit. I have to get going. I’ll make the coffee, but then I’m running out the door. You’ll find something for breakfast?”
“There was mention of cake. I’m fine.” Her lazy smile twists my heart. The urge to climb back into bed with her is so strong, but I resist.
“Cool.”
If I don’t walk away now, I won’t. However, I can’t resist the pull to her, so I drop a kiss on the top of her head.
I don’t misinterpret the hitch in her breath.
Or was that mine?
My mind wanders to Willa as I drive through town to the elementary school where this year’s holiday breakfast is being held. Specifically, what she’s doing while I’m gone for the morning. It doesn’t take much to think about her. She’s the star of my waking fantasies and the nighttime ones. A stupid grin springs to my mouth.
Stupid only because it’s ridiculous how much she’s embedded herself in me. Without my permission. Probably without even trying. Despite her crazy tendencies, the womaninserted herself into my life in such a way I’m accommodating her every whim.
And I don’t hate it.
Dax’s truck idles in a spot near the cafeteria door, his concentration engrossed in his phone. He doesn’t notice when I pull up, park, or get out, and only does when I knock on the passenger window. He jumps in his seat, his phone flying from his fingers. I chuckle as his lips mutter curse words I’m not privy to until he lowers the window.
“You scared me, dipshit.”
“I gave you ample time to figure out I was here. What’s so riveting on your phone? I thought you gave up porn.”
His eyes narrow. His middle finger closest to me scratches his head.
It’s been this way all our lives. I’d do anything for him, but riling each other and giving the other a hard time is what we do best. Just ask anyone at the garage. He’s the mechanic while I do the auto body work and only clash on the occasional wreck we need to work together. I’m astonished he agreed to co-chair breakfast with me this year. He clearly forgot all the bitching and moaning he did three years ago when I put him to work serving the food.
This year, he’s been extremely helpful throughout the planning process, something that begins in the summer. We’ve only had one small argument about the theme, but after we finally agreed on Reindeer Games, it was smooth sailing. It helps that he let me be in charge of the food and he took lead on the activities, and we agreed outsourcing the decorations was the best plan. As good as I am with creative endeavors, transforming the cafeteria into a place that incorporates the theme is outside my wheelhouse. Thankfully, there are plenty of people in town willing to create decorations. I can’t wait to see how it all comes together.
The Winterberry Junction holiday breakfast has been a staple in town for as long as I can remember. The chairperson from theprevious year appoints his or her successor when necessary. Nominated five years ago, I’m not ready to give it up yet.
A gust of wind picks up, reminding me I’m standing in the cold, with snow still on the ground from the other day’s storm. “Let’s go inside and make sure it’s all coming together.”
Blowing into my hands, I wait at the front of the truck while Dax turns off his engine and fishes his phone from the floor. Still mumbling to himself, when he joins me, his first question is, “When do I get to meet Willa? Shania hasn’t stopped talking about her.”
I love how much my niece is so captivated by Willa, even though she doesn’t know her secret identity. When she finds out, it’s going to blow her mind.
“I invited her to dinner tonight.”
“Why didn’t you bring her along to help with breakfast?”
“She’s working.” It’s not a complete lie. She’s supposed to be working. I can’t tell him the real reason she wouldn’t come to breakfast. She wouldn’t get one foot in the door before she’d freak out. After what she shared about her loss, I can’t completely blame her. Sharing her secret relieved her of some of the stress and tension she’s been carrying around the last two years.
It may have even grown her grinchy heart a centimeter or two.
Wishful thinking.
I shouldn’t care so much about her like or dislike of Christmas, but I can’t help myself. Once she leaves, her abhorrence of the greatest holiday will be a blip on my radar, a person I knew for a short time.
My heart twists with the thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again.
“Becks?” Dax’s voice penetrates my brain, diverting the runaway train my thoughts are on.
