Page 28 of Christmas at Hart's Ridge

I looked up at the mention of more scheduling drama. “What’s only a week?”

“I dropped my mom’s car off at the repair shop today,” Bethany explained. “They can fix it, but it will take a week. So I’m carless until next Friday.”

“We’re not changing the schedule,” I said. “It barely works as it is. Do you have any idea what Jasmine will do to you if you move her hours?”

Ethan considered that and made the smart choice. “Okay, we keep the schedule as-is, and I drive you anyway. It’s not like you live far.”

“What about theNutcrackerrehearsals?” Bethany asked. “Can you give me a ride to the community center, too? I have to be there tomorrow morning.”

Ethan sighed. “Sure, why not. I don’t have anything better to do.”

There. Ethan would take care of her. Problem solved. No reason for me to get involved. Good thing, too, because the last thing I needed was another person to take care of. Between the bar and Ethan and hell, even Goat, I had plenty responsibility without adding Bethany to the list.

But apparently my dumbass mouth didn’t agree.

“I can drive you,” I said. “I’m not here until five tomorrow. I have time.”

Four pairs of eyes turned to me.

“It’s not a problem,” I said. “Emma asked me to touch up the set scenery for the ballet, so I have to be there anyway.” A partial truth. Emmahadasked me. I left out the part where I had said no.

“Really?” Bethany lit up. “That would be perfect. I—”

“No, Bethany,” Ethan interjected. “Not really.” He turned to me. “Don’t tell her that if you’re not going to follow through. There’s no way you’re going to spend your weekends and free time painting fake Christmas trees and snowflakes. It’s Lonely Girl Season. All those girls looking for a quick fix to spending the Christmas season single, swinging by the bar because they know you’re good for it. You’re saying you’re willing to give that up to drive Bethany around and fix the scenery for a kids’ show? Be serious.”

I laughed as though I wasn’t fuckingfurious. As though my own goddamn brother hadn’t delivered a mortal wound. Suddenly that whole Cain and Abel story made a lot of sense.

And I wasn’t just mad at him. I was mad at myself, too. For expecting anything different from him, when I was the one who made him believe that shit in the first place.

I was the one who always cracked a joke to lighten the mood when things got too tense. Since things at home had been plenty tense, I had honed that skill early. I wasn’t afraid to make a fool out of myself. To play up the reputation of being a good-hearted himbo I had earned. I laughed loudly and often, which encouraged everyone around me to do the same. I made sure of that.

Because Ethan was always around, and I had never wanted him to worry. About anything. If he was laughing, then maybe he wouldn’t notice that his parents were never home, his grandma was senile, and his sixteen-year-old brother was scared out of his goddamn mind. It was my job to make sure Ethan had as normal a childhood as he possibly could, and I was damn good at my job.

It was a safe bet that, with the exception of Eli and possibly Max, I had fooled every person I ever met into thinking I never took anything seriously. Least of all myself. But Ethan was mybrother. He should have seen past the façade, even though the façade was mostly for him.

Then again, hadn’t I done the same to him? Worse, because Ethan had never tried to hide who he was, even if he didn’t put it out there in the open. Maybe neither of us could see what was right in front of our faces when it came to each other. What a sad fucking thoughtthatwas.

If he hadn’t said that shit in front of Bethany, it might have been easier to forgive him. She had been looking at me like I hung the moon, until Ethan opened his big fat mouth. Now she was looking at me like she was bracing for disappointment. I hated that.

“I am serious,” I ground out. And then laughed. Because I’m chickenshit.

“Aw, Luke, that’s so sweet.” Bethany batted her eyelashes at me. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you do that. Lonely Girl can tag along. She can even ride shotgun. Hopefully she’s handy with a paintbrush.”

I leaned forward, smirk firmly in place, all set to tease her with a line like,You’re the only lonely girl I need this Christmas—until I realized that maybe shewasa lonely girl looking for a holiday hookup and suddenly it didn’t seem so funny anymore. After all, she had been fully intending to kiss some random guy last night until I stepped in.

It shouldn’t bother me. Ethan was right. Single women in Hart’s Ridge for the holidays knew they could come to me if they were feeling a little lonely. I was happy to provide temporary relief—temporarybeing the key. But it was never just a random hookup. Not for me. I needed a spark. A connection. Maybe that was what bothered me now, the idea that for Bethany, I might be nothing more than a random guy. A hookup to ease the loneliness of the holiday season.

Because I had never sparked as brightly with a woman as I had when I rescued Bethany from Goat. I had thought it was the same for her.

She raised her eyebrows, clearly wondering why it was taking so long to push words out of my mouth. Normally that wasn’t a problem for me. I could talk all day and it didn’t really matter if I had something to say. But Bethany made me second guess everything.

“Thanks, Red.” I winked at her like an asshole. “Good to know you’re willing to share.”

Her eyes narrowed. A part of me—okay, all of me—hoped she was about to issue a declaration. Something like,You’re mine this Christmas. Only mine.

But all she said was, “Pick me up at nine.” Then she grabbed her tray of beers and strode back to her table, her red ponytail bouncing angrily as she walked. Ethan lifted his own tray of drinks and headed for a table on the other side of the restaurant.

I got back to work, making drinks for the customers lining up against the bar top. The back of my neck tingled. I was aware that Eli and Max were watching me, but I ignored them. Instead, I took my time, chatting with the hot brunette at the far end of the bar, then listening to Gabe Hall somewhat tipsily explain why his wife was mad. I nodded along, gently leading him to the correct conclusion that he should probably go home and apologize.

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