Page 75 of Mad About Yule

He looks at me again, and there’s almost a scolding in his eyes, as if he did this against his will. He couldn’twantto come to our holiday dinner, right? We’re barely together—if, in fact, we evenaretogether.

I can’t shake the sense he would have accepted if I hadn’t stepped in, though.

“Then I’ll take a rain check,” Mom says, clearly delighted he’s left that window open. “Come any time. Hope will be happy to have you over with us. She’s enjoyed working with you so much.”

See? This is why I banned her from my personal life. Even knowing nothing about me and Griffin, she’s putting words in my mouth.

They are true and accurate words, but she still doesn’t need to put them there.

“All right, Mom, we’ve got work to do, so let’s get you going.” I tug on her coat sleeve like a little kid. “Thanks for stopping by to see the progress.”

“It’s lovely to see you again,” she says to Griffin, her heeled boots resolutelynotmoving toward the door. “You’re obviously a very good carpenter. Do you happen to do any work on the side?”

“No, ma’am. This is just a one-time thing for Hope.”

There’s no trace of emotion in his voice, but I’d bet money he’s not entirely happy about that. Not a lot of money—I’ve only had hints to his true feelings on the subject. But I suspect he’s not as settled at McBride Landscaping as he claims. Unfortunately, cracking open Griffin’s head to get information he’s not already willing to give is impossible. And, in front of my mother, impractical.

“Too bad. I could send a lot of business your way if you did. I’m in need of a skilled carpenter in town.”

“What about Andre?” I ask.

“Oh, it never hurts to have more contacts who are good at what they do.” She turns back to Griffin. “Let me know if you change your mind about that. And tell me when dinner works for you and Hope. We’ll have you two over anytime!”

Oh, goody, we’re “you two” in her mind now. I’m doomed.

“All right, how about I walk you out?” I practically have to shove her, but she finally gets going.

We cross the warehouse and exit onto the side street. I’m buzzing with a tangled combination of nerves and irritation, but Mom’s huge smile flattens some of that out. She has my best interest at heart, I remind myself. Even if her good intentions often lead to horribly embarrassing situations.

“Looks like things are moving along well in there.” She lifts an eyebrow at me, the Queen of Subtlety.

I refuse to crack. I am cool and calm. I am an ice cube. “The Winter Wonderland is really coming together.”

“That looks good, too. Let me know when he’s ready to take me up on my offer. Your dad will love him.”

I make a series of inarticulate sounds. “Dad’s not going to meet him.”

Even though…she’s probably not wrong. Dad’s social, like Mom, but he spends a lot of time in his head. He’d rather hear honesty than flattery any day—Mom excepted, of course. He’d probably like Griffin’s decisive, straightforward nature. Two composed men enduring the antics of two highly emotional women.

No, wait. What am I doing imagining Griffin meeting my dad?

Mom needs to cool it with all thePower of Positive Speechclasses she takes. She’s clearly an A student.

She doesn’t reply to my denial, just smiles like she’s practicing for a toothpaste commercial. “See you tomorrow, honey.”

She saunters toward Maple Street, her perfectly curled dark hair fluttering in the breeze. Meanwhile, she’s left me an emotionally disheveled mess.

Griffin’s not going to meet my dad. He’s not.

Even though now, I kind of really want that.

TWENTY-SIX

GRIFFIN

My brother has absolutely losthis mind. I’ve wondered a few times in the past, but today seals it. He fusses over his wife, arranging cushions beneath, behind, and around her, determined to make her the most comfortable woman on the planet.

“Think you’ve got enough pillows?” I ask.

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