Page 13 of Mine for the Holidays
“She asked me to be the executor of her Will, so I had to sign it and swear I’d do everything she asked.”
“Why do you think she chose you to do that and not your mom?”
He grins. “Because Aunty Joan isn’t a stupid woman. I mean, look around you, do you think she did all this without knowingexactlyhow to read people?”
“Howdidshe do all this?”
“Candy,” he says.
“Candy?”
“Yup.” He pops the P. “Candy.”
“Wow. I was wondering obviously, but I never imagined…”
“Right? But sugar is big business, and Aunty Joan is as sweet as pie, but she’s got the mind of a steel trap, and she’s as shrewd as can be. She turned something very small into something huge, and for all her smiles and generosity, she’s incredibly aware of the intent of those around her.”
“So…if she knows, why does she keep allowing it to happen?”
“Because it’s family. And without all of us, she’d be horribly lonely. Which is where that regret of hers stems from. She thinks that if she had kids of her own, my parents and Tony wouldn’t look at her with dollar signs in their eyes.”
“And you don’t? Look at her with dollar signs, I mean?” It’s a confronting question, but since we’re throwing stones…
He smiles. “I did. But then I got married, had kids of my own, and my wife pointed out how fucked up it is to look at someone as a paycheck when they die. Delaney is the only one of us whoneverdid that. She just loved Aunty Joan for Aunty Joan. She’s never cared about the money or the doors Aunty Joan could open for her. She’s always gone out there and done everything for herself, never asking for help from any one of us. She and Tony have their issues—he’s never understood why she won’t just fall in line, and he truly thinks Aunty Joan is leaving the lion’s share to her—but I’ve always thought she was so brave. It’s a big thing to start from scratch on your own in a brand-new city. But she did it and her business is thriving as a result ofherbrains and skill. I think that’s why Aunty Joan cares so much about Delaney. She sees a lot of herself in her and wants to make sure she has everything she didn’t. It’s why she pushes the husband thing so fiercely. She wants Del to have kids while she’s still young enough to have them.”
“Has anyone even asked her if she wants that?”
Leaning forward, he puts the butt of his cigarette out in the cool the grass, the tiny flame dying out with a hiss. “Interestingly, no. You must think this family is pretty messed up.”
“I’ve seen worse. There are some doozies in Hollywood, and my own wasn’t a treat either. But I do have to wonder why you’re telling me this. I mean, you’re aware this relationship between me and Delaney is fake, and I’m not a priest, so…” I shrug.
He takes a long inhale then stretches his arms behind his head, looking up at the night sky. “Because we’re all pretending here, Nathanial Charmers. And the only honesty I see is in the way you look at Del. I guess this is just my big brother way of letting you know what you’re getting yourself into, and asking you, no—telling you—to do right by her. I don’t want to see her getting hurt.”
“What if she’s the one with the power to hurt me?” I ask, looking back up at the house and thinking about the moments before she called me Liam, how it felt to be close to her, how she reacted to my touch, how she made me feel. I’ve never had that before.But it wasn’t real.
“Then god help you, buddy,” Tommy says. “Because I certainly can’t.”
Delaney
It’s my bladder that wakes me. Light streams in through the window and the uncomfortable nagging sensation forces me from my deep, restful sleep. Getting to this point wasn’t easy. After Nate left last night, I had a bit of a cry, then I had a shower and cried a little more, and then I got into my warm pajamas and curled up in bed, crying a little there too. I felt, in a word,awful! This big, beautiful, and caring man was showing me the most divine time of my life and what do I do? I treat him like a hooker—the very thing I assured Liz I wasn’t going to do.
In my defense, I’d been calling him Liam all day. So the name could have very easily slipped out in the throes of ecstasy. But in truth, it wasn’t a simple faux pas on my part, I called him Liam because I thought he was stillpretendingto want me. After the way he reacted though, I think that maybe I was very wrong. Which can only mean one thing—Natewantsme. Something I never imagined would be possible. And I fear that acting like he was providing a service to me last night might have damaged that want.
Especially since I find him sleeping on the sofa—shirtless with the blanket riding low on his waist, his hair loose and spread out on the pillow in a way that makes me want to reach out and run my fingers through it—instead of on the bed next to me.Crap. You really blew this one, Delaney. And not in the hot, deep throat kinda way. No. If I were a betting woman, I’d bet that was never going to happen again.
I don’t know why finding him on the couch bothers me so much. I mean, it’s not like he’s ever slept in the same bed as me before. I’m not used to having him beside me all night and waking up next to him of a morning. So there’s norealreason for my disappointment besides the fact it feels a lot like a change of heart. Like maybe, last night was my only chance, and I blew it the moment I uttered the wrong name.
God, I could kick myself for ruining this!
Nate is the first man to set my blood pumping like that in, well,ever.And stupid, incapable-of-reading-the-signs me, managed to screw that up before we even got to the good part.Nice one, Delaney. Maybe you should stick to making skincare products and call this relationship thing a day?It’d probably be safer for all of us.
Beating myself up internally, I drag my feet into the bathroom and do my business, splashing water on my face before I comb my hair and start getting ready for the day. Nate and I have a long drive back to the city, and I don’t want to hang around any longer than I need to, especially when things are just going to be uncomfortable from now on. I’m not even surehowI’m supposed to look him in the eye now, or what I can say to make it better. Quite simply, I fucked up.
With my hair in a ponytail, my jeans and a knit sweater on, I pull my walking shoes on then take one last look at the slumbering Nate before I head downstairs to get some breakfast.
“Where’s, lover boy?” Tony asks from where he sits at the table slathering a bagel with cream cheese.
“Where are Lucy and the kids?” I retort, grabbing a blueberry muffin as I take a seat across from him. I love my family, even the hard to be around ones like Tony, but today, I’m not in the mood.
