Page 41 of A Holly Jilly Christmas

“Yep. Due in June,” Marcy says.

Case is on his feet in seconds, hugging his sister and slapping Greg on the back, looking almost as excited as the parents-to-be. “Wow—that’s so great! Congratulations! Wow!”

If I wasn’t sure how Case felt about kids, the number of exclamation points in his sentences are giving me an idea. Or, at least, how he feels about being an uncle. THAT conversation I’m happy to leave for later.

We talk all things baby for a few minutes, before Greg heads to bed.

Marcy yawns. “I should probably get to bed too. It’s been a long day. All the cooking wears me out.”

Case gives me a subtle look, a reminder of what he told me before—how Marcy insists on cooking everything. He was right about that. And about it being terrible. I’m honestly starving and so glad they’re going to bed so we can raid the pantry.

“Merry Christmas, Jilly. I’m so glad we finally got to meet you,” Marcy says.

I tilt my head. “Finally?”

Next to me, Case waves his hand in front of his neck in a cutting motion. “Goodnight, sister,” he says, a little too loudly.

Marcy ignores him. “What—he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing!” Case says. “Man, it’s getting late. You should really get some rest. For the baby.”

“He’s been talking about you for years. We never thought he’d actually make a move.”

“Years,” I repeat. “Really?”

Case puts his head down on the counter. “You are the very worst, Marcy.”

Her grin gets bigger. “We had a bet going about whether or not he’d end up winning you over or scaring you off with his oh-so-charming personality on this trip.”

“I can be charming,” Case says. “Back me up, Jillian.”

“There’s definitely some charm present. Beneath the grumpy layers.”

Marcy laughs. “I’d agree with that statement. So, he didn’t tell you how long he’s been into you?”

“He most certainly did not,” I say, poking Case in the ribs. He jolts and sits up, swatting my hand away. The tips of his ears are burning red. “Why did you wait so long?”

“My brother likes to take his time on big decisions. I’m sorry in advance for the patience you’ll need to deal with him.”

“You’re making me sound like a giant dork,” Case says to Marcy. “Don’t scare her away before I even get confirmation that she wants to be my girlfriend.”

Marcy puts her hands on her hips. “Jilly, do you want to be his girlfriend?”

I bite my lip as Case groans and puts his head back down, muttering about sisters.

“If Case were to hypothetically ask me to be his girlfriend, in all likelihood, hypothetically speaking, I would say yes. That is, if Persephone approves.”

“She does,” Case says.

“I’ve got bunny preapproval? Nice!”

“Is the eggnog influencing your decision in any way?” Marcy asks. “Because Greg has a very cute younger brother, and—”

“Go to bed,” Case orders in a snarly voice that reminds me of the way he talks to everyone in the office. “Go.”

“Night, night, you two!” Marcy turns off the overhead light, leaving us bathed in just the dim light from the electric candle in the window and the tree in the adjoining family room. “Oh, and I hope you realize you’re sitting under the mistletoe. You’re welcome,” she singsongs as Case tosses a balled-up napkin at her retreating back.

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