Page 54 of The Runaway Bride of Blitzen Bay (Blitzen Bay)

I lay my head on her chest. “Maybe, I’ll move to Spain and live with you guys.”

“As much as I would love that, it wouldn’t solve anything you’re going through now.” She starts stroking my hair. “Have you talked to Steve since he came up last night?”

“No, he’s been texting me, but I haven’t replied. I guess he’s still coming up here Christmas Eve.”

“Do you want him to come up here? I’m no fan of his, but if you’re done, cut him loose sooner than later. There’s no need to torture him.”

I throw the blanket over my head and scream. “How did I get here?”

“Oh, Baby Elle,” she says, sinking under the blanket with me. We used to tunnel under the blankets on Grandma’s bed when she told us it was time to go to sleep. We’d stay up until all hours whispering in our blanket fort.

“You haven’t called me Baby Elle since we were little kids.”

She laughs. “You know, there were years when I legitimately thought you were my baby.”

“You don’t still?”

“No,” she says, kissing my forehead. “I know it now.”

“What am I going to do, Kitty?”

“You’re going to go to law school and get on with your life. Then on spring break or over the summer, you’re going to visit me in Spain and we’re going to go to the coast and have Matty serve us fruity drinks by the sea. For now, get back to L.A. and start school.”

“Do you have to go back to Spain?”

“Well, my job and my boyfriend are there, so probably.” She pulls me into a hug. “Why don’t you drive back to L.A. with me tonight?”

“What? And spend Christmas alone? You leave tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t work.”

“I think I’m going to stay here. There’s something about this place that’s helping me heal.”

She puts her forehead against mine and whispers, “Yeah, that something is eating lunch on the deck right now.”

“Stop. It’s not him. It’s just the peace and quiet. I need that for a little bit.”

“For a little bit? Or forever?”

“I can’t stay here forever, Kit.”

“I’m glad you realize that. I was starting to wonder.” She pulls the blanket back and looks out on the deck. “And Nash can’t be your rebound man. You know that, right? He’s too nice.”

“He doesn’t have to be a rebound, I mean—”

“Elle, you’re a day removed from leaving a man—who you loved—at the altar. There’s no way anyone—even that gorgeous man on the porch—is going to be anything other than a rebound. You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s so sweet.”

“I will leave you in this place on three conditions.” She sits up, grabs my shoulders, and locks eyes with me. “Concentrate, Elle. I’m not leaving until you agree to these. Number one: You will stop touching Nash. No touching his arm to accentuate a point. No brushing up against him as he passes by you. No hugging and for God’s sake, no kissing. Kissing turns you into a complete idiot.”

“You didn’t mention sex. Is that okay?”

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, I will drag your butt back to L.A. right now.”

“We’ve already hugged—innocently though. Just like friend hugging.”

She puts her finger in my face. “Who do you think you’re talking to, missy? There’s no innocent hugging with that beautiful man. Stop it. No one could be expected to resist him once the touching begins. No more touching. Agree to it. Now.”

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