Page 109 of Holiday Hopefuls
“Actually, we are.” Oliver’s calm voice slices through the tension in the air. Silence falls over the room at his assured tone while strong, confident steps echo with each stride as he reclaims a spot by my side. I twist around to face him, those eyes that always seem to anchor me never leaving mine. “Christopher, your continued lack of observation and concern for your family members outside of Connie are quite the disappointment. Especially considering Callie and I have done nothing but flaunt our relationship the entire time I’ve known you. But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.” Oliver shrugs. “It’s not totally uncommon inside of twin relationships, particularly when one is often found to be more co-dependent than the other.”
“But-but that woman,” he sputters, “in the restaurant?—”
“My colleague was operating on old information, which you would know if you had bothered to speak with us directly insteadof running off with nothing but hearsay.” Oliver turns to my brother, crossing his arms.
I don’t think I will ever get over hearing this man refer to this as an ‘us’ situation. In spite of this insane predicament, my insides become increasingly in danger of liquifying.
“Now,” Oliver nods to where Chris’s hand is still pressing down on my shoulder with more force than necessary, “take your hand off my girlfriend. And take note, Christopher, this is the only time I will ask nicely.”
Chris peels his fingers off me one by one. It only takes Oliver dipping his chin to stare at my brother before Chris takes a couple of measured steps back.
Dropping my other hand from Connie, I shift closer to Oliver until his unmistakable warmth seeps through my sweater.
Imogene and Mom watch us from the couch like a film they hadn't planned on seeing and are about to demand their money back.
But it’s Dad’s look of resolve that bothers me most. “It’s Christmas,” he says matter-of-fact, “with my family, that I’ve worked to provide for for nearly forty years.” His eyes flit over our heads. “And that means that I get to determine how our holiday goes.”
Rustling comes from behind me and sets my every nerve on edge. “I think I got everything.” Prescott stops at the foot of the stairs, Oliver’s packed bag in hand.
That little weasel.
He nods to our father.
I don’t bother stopping my bitter laughter. “What?” Standing straight to my full height, I narrow unamused eyes at my dad. “Are you kicking Oliver out or something?”
“You know, Calloway, I am,” he replies calmly. “And if he refuses to leave, I’m happy to press charges. It’s his choice.”
Nothing. No sadness. No fear.
No anger.
No regret.
I feel absolutely nothing as my father looks at me like an attorney holding court. Like he’s reached checkmate. As if he holds all the cards.
Because in his mind, he does.
Oliver shifts behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Callie. I’ll go.”
Dad’s smug grin deepens at Oliver’s concession.
Nodding, I turn to look at the man I love. Resting my palms on his chest, the beat of his heart gives away every ounce of fury he’s holding back. Even knowing what’s coming next, I can’t stop the swell of emotion the man brings out of me. “I understand. And … I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Oliver’s brow furrows. Blinking rapidly, he swallows. “Um, of course, Callie. I love you, and I’d do anything for you.”
Someone in the background, probably Chris, makes a disgusted noise.
A soft smile forms on my lips as I look into the loving eyes I’ve come to know as my home. It quickly turns into a full-blown grin as Oliver’s eyes narrow, attempting to determine the sudden shift in my demeanor.
Then Oliver Grant Rhodes, the amazing man that he is, understands. “You’re sure about this?” His voice is low, cautious.
“Sure about what?” my father demands.
Beside me, Connie smiles approvingly.
“Yep,” I nod. Sighing, I take his hand. “I guess that means you’re good with driving me home, then?”
“Of course, my love,” he beams, fingers intertwining with mine. “That was always the plan.”
