Page 34 of Triple Tidings
We both stand back, watching as Lacey carefully plates up the eggs, bacon, toast, and breakfast potatoes, her lips pursed in concentration, as if the presentation is critical to our enjoyment of the meal.
“Thank you, Lace,” I tell her when she finally stands back, beaming at us.
August chuckles, pausing to kiss her cheek as he reaches past her to take one of the plates. “Yes, thank you,” he agrees as he straightens up.
As I move past him to grab my own, he smacks my ass.
We eat together, seated around a table in The Chestnut’s dining room. It’s a sunny day, but blustery, and we watch as birds are blown off course on their way to and from the garden bird feeder, talking about nothing in particular.
It’s been a few years since I bothered to make plans for the holiday, and even when I did, it was nothing like this. I’m comfortable and warm, basking in the pleasant surprise of how my Christmas Day has ended up.
Or I am until we finish our meal.
“Why didn’t you go stay with family, Wells?” Lacey asks as we’re gathering up the dirty dishes, preparing to go in search of other entertainment.
It’s difficult to keep my expression from reflecting my feelings about this question. “They live far,” I respond vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.
Unfortunately, I’d neglected to consider thetwo-on-onepitfall of this new relationship dynamic.
“Where? I thought you were from around here.” August definitely doesn’t mean anything by it; he’s only being curious, but I still find myself bristling.
“Doesn’t matter. We aren’t close.”
I pretend I don’t notice the two sets of eyes boring into my back as I shoulder open the kitchen’s glossy wood door. My relationship with my family isn’t something I’m eager to discuss today of all days, especially with people who—on paper, anyway—I barely know.
Setting the plates in the sink, I turn, frowning at the two people hovering behind me. Some of my irritation fades as I see the matching looks of concern on both August and Lacey’s faces. I groan, shaking my head as I step to the side to allow them through. “You’re both impossible.”
“We care about you,” Lacey counters, raising her eyebrows, as if daring me to challenge that sentiment.
Fuck, I wish I could argue with that. It would sure as hell make my life simpler. I can’t do it, though. Somewhere in the space of the last few days, I’ve come to trust that these two people really do care about me, and I care about them.
Where does that leave us?
“Look.” I scrub a hand over my face. “They aren’t bad people, I don’t hate them, but I don’t fit with them, either.”
I don’t tell them about the money or the competitive, unyielding expectations of the older generations. Me, my siblings, and my cousins were show ponies, trotted out to populate the family tree with a new generation of investment bankers, politicians, and real-estate moguls.
Expectations were high.
Support and love were low.
It didn’t take me long to realize I would never measure up, and by the time I graduated college, I was already distancing myself. My life might not be anything particularly special now, but it’s mine, and I’m not going to live by anyone else’s terms.
Seeming to sense my discomfort, August takes a tentative step toward me, his eyes searching my face. “I’m sorry if… We shouldn’t have pushed you on it.”
I shake my head, attempting a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.”
If we’re heading back to reality tomorrow, the last thing I want to do is spend the rest of the day thinking about my shitty childhood.
“Come on.” Lacey takes my hand, dragging me along as she moves backward toward the door, her lips curved in a coy little smirk. “We have a Christmas present for you.”
My eyebrows arch as the gray cloud that appeared over me vanishes as quickly as it came. I doubt there’s a man alive who could think of anything else with Lacey Lovette looking at him the way she’s looking right now.
“A Christmas present?” I echo dumbly.
Lacey doesn’t blink as her back hits the kitchen door. It swings open, bumping into my shoulder as I follow her through. “Mhmm,” she hums, her warm, brown eyes sparkling with mischief in the wintery light. “I think you’ll like it a lot.”
Not exactly a stretch, when she could slap me and I’d thank her for it.
