Page 76 of Miss Humbug
When I pulled away, tears streaked my face. “I love you. And I love this family. And I love one other person a whole lot and I don’t know what to do about it.”
She wiped my cheek with her finger. “I know, dear.”
“You do?”
“Hard to get much past me. That man is head over heels for you. Do you have a Christmas gift for him?”
I was crying in the kitchen and she was asking about gifts? I sniffled. “You think I should?”
She patted my shoulder before drifting to the door. “I imagine he has one for you. Invite him for dinner and we’ll see.”
Chapter 27
Ethan
On Christmas Day, I knocked on the front door of Hollybrooke House carrying a covered glass dish packed with cheesy potato casserole. Over my shoulder, a backpack filled with presents. Santa in the Midwest minus the red coat and hat.
Ashe’s youngest answered the door, this time as a human, not as a dog on all fours. “Oh. It’s you.” He turned. “MARLOWE! IT’S YOUR BOYFRIEND AND HE HAS A CASSEROLE!”
The doorway cleared of children and I stepped inside.
The smells hit me: cranberries at a low simmer on the stove, a drifting waft of honey ham, and a welcome hint of pine.
Marlowe appeared in a Christmas sweater. Thick green knit with a fabric gingerbread figure stuck to the front. The belly of the gingerbread functioned as a pocket with real, actual candy canes poking out.
I pointed, speechless.
“Hey. Come on in.” She took the glass dish from me and headed down the hall.
“Are you going to explain the sweater?”
We reached the dining hall. “It was my gift from Ashe’s kids. Mallory and Adam told me they picked out the best one because it’s interactive. Here.”
She set the dish down and handed me a candy cane.From her sweater.
“You must be counting the days until January.”
She grinned. “Actually, I am, but for a different reason.”
We had so much to say that had nothing to do with interactive holiday clothing. We hadn’t exactly been on no speaking terms, but our texts the past week had been simple. Short and to the point.
I hated every second of not talking to her. While I needed space from the Holly family, I didn’t want space from Marlowe. Just the opposite. But pressuring Marlowe into a relationship would be the quickest way to send her back to the West coast. I meant it when I said I’d follow her anywhere, but would she want me to? Yeah, she said she loved me, but she had a life in California.
Our lives had intersected again, but for how long?
I needed to handle this the right way. One day at a time. So I invited her to Christmas dinner with my folks. And she accepted. We were going there after this.
She’d invited me here immediately after I’d asked, and naturally I’d agreed. I could grumble how the Hollys always came first, but her family would forever have a larger-than-life sense about them.
“It’s been a whole week,” Marlowe stated.
Seven miserable days. Seven days without Marlowe. Seven days of diving into farm work and anything else to take my mind off her.
I spent a chunk of that time making her gift. No gift would be good enough, but this at least came from my heart.
“I brought presents.” I swung the backpack off my shoulder. “Some are for the kids. One for your grandmother.” I stumbled through my words. None of this was what I wanted to be talking about.
She took my hand, reading my awkwardness like a cry for help. “I have something for you too. Let’s find somewhere—” a child shrieked in another room “—more private.”
