Page 73 of Stay this Christmas
And there it was. If I resented him for his choices, he resented me just as much for mine. No degree, no career to speak of—I hadn’t done much he could brag about. And Christopher Donnelly loved to brag.
“I think they’re just happy I live in town.”
“Sam and Georgia live in town, too, but I think I’d be happier if they were doctors.” He laughed as though he’d said anything remotely funny.
“Georgia’s doing some pretty awesome freelance work.” Unfair of him to lump her in with me. I’d seen the covers she’d done. They looked really good, even if they weren’t for some big-name corporation the way Dad hoped. Sounded like the work already matched her income at the bookstore, too. “Doesn’t even have to wear a stethoscope.”
“Are you still doing that?”
That he didn’t know ticked me right off. Georgia nodded but didn’t seem nearly as irritated as I was. Maybe she’d grown numb to his casual indifference, but that just made me madder. Me, I’d been gone for years, his ignorance about me or what I’d done made sense. But she’d at least been here, he should know what was going on in her life.
“Sam was invaluable at Vaughn Mountain Views.” God bless my sister, fighting my losing battle for me. “The owners call him every few weeks, begging him to come back.”
Harper’s eyes found mine, a clear question written there. I ticked my head to the side in subtle confirmation. Pierce had called a few times to find out how serious I was about staying in Texas. At first, I hadn’t committed to anything for sure—wanting to stay, and finding a way to make that work weren’t the same thing. But the last time we’d talked, I’d told him flat-out I intended to stay in Magnolia Ridge. He’d wished me well, and asked me to keep them in mind if I ever made it back to Colorado.
“Any potential for advancement there?”
Right. The only climbing Dad cared about was the corporate kind.
“Not likely.” Pierce, Steven, and Ian Vaughn had the executive positions pretty well covered. If Ian really didn’t come back to the company, they might have to bring someone else in, but none of that meant anything to me if I wasn’t going back, either.
“Too bad. My offer still stands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Read: I would forget it immediately.
He flicked his wrist to check his watch. “Well. It’s time I get my kids to bed.”
That little remark shouldn’t sting. It was accurate. He probably didn’t mean anything by it. But it still felt like he’d drawn a circle around Finn and Willa as his kids, shutting Georgia and me out.
“Say thank you to Sam and Harper.” Ava guided the littles over, dusting their faces with a napkin for every last trace of cocoa stains.
Finn waved and muttered a thank you, but Willa wrapped her arms around my waist in an exuberant hug.
“Thank you, Samuel.” She turned those big brown eyes up to me, and my heart just about overflowed with affection. Dad might be hard to love right now, but his kids sure weren’t.
I lightly squeezed her shoulders. “No problem, Willalujah.”
She laughed, her cheeks rosy at how I’d merged her name with that of her future look-alike doll.
She let go of me and moved to Harper, flinging her arms around her just as easily. “Thank you, Harps.”
Huh. Didn’t think she’d heard that. Then again, she’d picked up on plenty between Harper and me the last couple of hours.
Dad scooped her up into his arms, nuzzling against her. “Did you ask Santa for what you want?”
She nodded, that huge, hopeful smile on her face.
“I think you’ve been a good girl this year. I bet you’ll get it.”
She tossed her arms around his neck and snuggled him, probably dreaming up exactly how perfect her doll would look Christmas morning. Dad just grinned away, his late-in-life babies somehow making him look younger than I remembered him when I was growing up. The whole little tableau made my chest squeeze, but I couldn’t tell if affection or jealousy had the upper hand.
Ava pulled Finn away. “Thanks again. You’re coming to Christmas breakfast, right, Sam?”
“Well—”
“Great, we’ll see you then!”
I suspected she disappeared out the door in a flash so I wouldn’t have a chance to say no. I hadn’t refused all that many invitations since I’d been back, but she seemed to know I’d been on the fence about the Christmas one.
