Page 33 of Cowboy's Christmas Girlfriend

“You hate me? Really?” He bent to rub Beth’s back, but she jerked away.

“We know you’re kicking Suzanna out. You’re the real-life Grinch.”

“You’re even meaner.” Ann kicked at him, missed, and curled up in a ball. Will lowered himself down and laid his hand on her back.

“I’m not kicking her out,” he said. “It’s just time she went home. She has her own house, remember? She can’t stay forever.”

“She could, though,” said Ann. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “If you asked her, she’d stay, and we don’t get why you haven’t.”

“We don’t get it at all. You’re more fun when she’s here.” Beth turned her back on him. “You never let us do ice sculpting. But then Suzanna came, and she made you bring us.”

“And we got to go shopping with Gramma and Aunt Sarah, and pick out your Christmas presents without you watching.”

“And Suzanna’s nice, and she’s funny, and she makes you laugh.” Beth hung her head. “You never laugh.”

Will frowned. He never laughed? Of course he did. He’d had great times with the twins—last year’s Christmas Games, the one before that. There’d been their sixth birthday, when he’d hired that magician. Everyone had been laughing when his rabbits got loose. Everyone, except...had Will found it funny? In retrospect, sure, but at the time he’d been livid. What if those rabbits never got found? Would he have to pay for them? What if they hurt themselves, and some poor kid found them all bloodied and dying?

“He’s making his sad face,” said Ann. “He’s kicking Suzanna out and he’s sad again.”

“We don’t want sad Dad.” Beth picked herself up and climbed up beside him. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “We liked new Dad better. We liked how you played with us, and we all had fun. You were like Felix from Encanto, always in a good mood.”

“Even Gramma likes new Dad better,” said Ann. “I heard her telling Aunt Sarah she’s happy for us. That we get to be kids again, not little adults.”

“You worry too much,” said Beth. “You make us worry too.”

Will’s mouth had gone dry. Was this how everyone saw him? Some humorless ogre keeping his kids from being kids? He knew they hadn’t been happy, that they’d cried in the night, but he’d put all that down to them missing Hannah. It hadn’t occurred to him they were missing something from him. Sad Dad? When had that started? He stared at his reflection in the window, the shaggy fall of his hair, in need of a trim. The deep line between his brows, which had been a faint crease when Hannah was alive.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You know I love you, right?”

“We know,” said Beth, muffled into his shirt. “And we don’t really hate you. I’m sorry I said that, and we love you too. But we want you to be happy.”

“We don’t want you to ruin it. Not when everything’s great.”

Will held Beth closer, his chest gone tight. He gathered Ann to him too and rocked them both in his arms. How had he missed it? This was what made them happy, seeing him move on. And he had been happy, not fake-happy, not playing a role. Suzanna had brought back his spark and he’d pushed her away. He’d been a coward, so afraid of future heartbreak he hadn’t let himself be happy. He’d practically demanded she leave him alone. Hot shame rose like acid in his throat.

I’ve had it backward the whole time, he thought. I might’ve lied to my family, but I’ve only fooled myself.

* * *

Suzanna turned the volume up on her iPod. As long as she couldn’t hear the silence in the hall, she could pretend Will was coming to take back what he’d said. She told herself that he was on the stairs now, rehearsing what he’d say—heading for her room, repeating it in his head, some magic speech that would make everything okay. Any minute he’d knock, and she’d let him in. He’d take her in his arms, and—

Will knocked.

Suzanna jumped. She dropped the jeans she’d been about to toss in her suitcase and lunged for the door. She’d forgive him, of course she would. As long as he...

“Sarah?” Suzanna’s heart sank. Had she really expected some grand gesture from Will? Like in a romance novel? She almost laughed.

“You’re packing?” Sarah peered past her, taking in her suitcase, her laptop open to AirB&B. “I was hoping we’d talk first. See, I brought wine.” She held up a bottle and a pair of glasses.

“I’m not sure I should be drinking. I’m pretty overwrought already. And I lost a lot of blood earlier, so it’ll go straight to my head.”

“One drink won’t hurt you.” Sarah uncorked the bottle and poured her a glass. “Besides, I’m not letting you go before I get the truth. In vino veritas, you know?”

Suzanna laughed and took the drink. She tried a sip, found it good, and took a long swallow. The wine warmed her belly and she sank down on the bed, letting her head loll back on the pillows.

“It’s a long story,” she said. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I’m here, right?” Sarah sipped her own wine. “Mm...best batch yet. Uncle Vern’s own vintage.”

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