Page 91 of L.O.V.E

“I’m going to Lacey’s.”

“Take one of those pies with you,” Mom shouted, though I was only down the short hall. “I baked too many pies.”

“Not the apple pie,” Dad yelled. “That’s mine.”

“Oh, and some of that—” The slamming bedroom door cut off their teasing.

My room hadn’t changed much since I’d moved out five years ago. Still the same bright turquoise bed frame. Patchwork quilt. Too many bed pillows. Pink and fuchsia striped walls. My Maroon 5 and Nick Jonas posters had been swapped out for antiqued, white trellis mirrors in different shapes and sizes and my Ikea dresser and nightstand had been upgraded to Pottery Barn sophistication.

Off with the candy cane leggings and baggy sweater, on with the sweater dress, tights, and boots.

Mascara. Lip gloss. Hair fluff. Good to go.

Mom swayed in Dad’s arms when I came back out, her cheek to his chest, his lips in her hair. “Baby It’s Cold Outside” playing on the stereo.

For a moment, I watched in awe and wonder of their connection, my heart aching for the same. Then I snapped a pic.

My phone buzzed. A text from the one and only Caleb, my new ridiculously handsome and sweet supervisor, whom I hadn’t mentioned to my parents for obvious reasons.

Merry Christmas. Enjoy UR family. Get some rest. I need my star player on the field to start our new year with a bang.

I liked that Caleb texted me. But his communications didn’t give me tingles.

I scrolled through my contacts and pulled up all the texts Cole had sent me since Thanksgiving. One a day, at least, apologizing. All of them short and sweet. Not once, though, had he asked me to answer his calls or call him back. He gave but asked for nothing in return.

On my way out the door, Dad shouted, “Hey, did you get the invite to your uncle’s retirement party next month?”

“I did.”

“Will you be able to make it?”

I looked over my shoulder. “Of course, I will.”

“Good. You’re his favorite niece. It’d break his heart if you couldn’t come.”

“I’m his only niece,” I shouted, closing the door before they could continue.

“Oh, Nat Brat.” Lacey threw her arms around me. “I’m so happy you came.”

“I made it.”

“Hey, Beautiful.” Ellis strolled out of the kitchen and planted a kiss on my head.

“Merry Christmas.” I handed Lacey the pies, then snatched the baby out of Ellis’s arms and slapped my keys in his palm.

“Presents are in the trunk. Do you mind?”

His deep chuckle was intoxicating. “Of course.” He gave Lacey’s ass a squeeze before jogging out the door.

I sighed, their affection swoon-worthy, then settled onto the sofa for cuddle time. The large Craftsman style home looked like a horde of drunk elves had thrown a rave. Every wall, window, and shelf was adorned with twinkling lights, garland, and Christmas cheer. Atop the tree sat an angel dressed in white. Lacey’s prized possession, passed down from her grandmother, to her mother, and then to Lacey.

“It smells like cinnamon rolls in here.”

“Been baking all day.” Lacey fell into the cushion next to me and brushed soft strokes over Leon’s head. “Dinner’s almost ready. Ellis’s parents will be here in a bit.”

“He’s perfect,” I said, staring at the gorgeous baby. “Absolute perfection.”

“I know.” She swiped a tear from my cheek. “How are you doing? We’ve hardly talked since Thanksgiving.”

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