Page 25 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
She planted her fists on her hips and sat up straight, pressing her lips into a firm line and scrunching up her forehead in a scowl. “I’m not a grump. This is my business. I make the rules. Blah, blah, blah.” She stomped her feet, and I realized she was mocking me. “I’m too busy for fun.”
The corner of my mouth twitched, daring a smile. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You soundexactlylike that. Nobody is too busy for fun, North. You just don’t prioritize it. And maybe you should. It’s good for you. And your heart.”
“My heart?”
“Stress in men causes early heart failure. Look it up. Fun and… well, other things… are the best way to prevent heart disease.”
“Other things?”
Her cheeks turned neon pink. “Mhm.”
Oh. Of course. Other things.
“My work is fun,” Winter said. “At least, it will be fun when it blossoms into work after I’m done with college. I can’t wait to get out in the field and use my talent to bring people joy. I’ve always thought that homes and spaces, wherever they are, are so important to our wellbeing and the human condition.”
“How so?”
“Well, there are all these studies coming out now about our environment and how much it impacts us. For example, that was the theory of minimalism, right? Less clutter in your home, less clutter in your mind. Now, I don’t necessarily believe that mentality or way of living brings joy to every individual. It’s all very personal. But I want to be the person who helps make people’s dreams a reality. I want to elevate locations so that people feel nothing but contentment and happiness in their own spaces. After a long day of work, you shouldn’t come home to a living room that doesn’t feel likeyours.”
She began shrugging out of her jacket as the warmth of the restaurant finally got to her bones. She left it and the scarf on the empty seat beside her, and I found my gaze wandering over her in her black turtleneck that hugged all her curves. No skin was showing, but I could imagine what was beneath the fabric.
“I know designers aren’t accessible to everyone,” she continued. “Budgets and costs are high for renovations, and even if you can afford such a luxury, adding a designer to the bill isn’t easy. One day I want to run a non-profit that helps people flip their homes whose space no longer functions for them. Families who’ve outgrown their house and don’t have the ability to move, for example. Like those home renovation shows. I used to be obsessed with them when I was a little girl.”
Listening to Winter talk felt easier tonight than all the times that had come before. She lit up when she talked about design, and I let her run with it, sharing all her favorite episodes of said renovation shows and how she always cried during the grand reveal at the end when the families got to see their new home.
“I just want to create that feeling, you know?” she finished shortly after our meals arrived. She twirled pasta around her fork and took a bite. “Then, when I’m good and settled in my career, I can look to the rest of my future. Marriage. House. Kids. All that fun stuff.”
“You strike me as the sort of woman who wants a big family.”
She covered her mouth with one hand while she chewed. “You guessed it. Three kids, maybe four? So long as I’m in a place financially to pull it off, of course. And my husband wants a big family, too. What about you?”
“Me?”
“Do you want kids?”
I pushed my food around my plate. “I’ve never thought much about it.”
“Really? Never?”
“Maybe when I was a younger man,” I said. “But things change. Your priorities shift. People come and go, and then you’re left to rebuild. After all that, thinking about starting from the beginning is daunting.”
Winter cocked her head to the side. “Do you ever think about marriage? Or getting married?”
“I was married.”
“Oh.” She seemed to register what I’d said before. “That’s what you meant about rebuilding. You and your ex-wife, did you have plans to have children?”
I nodded. “We did. With a house as big as mine, we wanted what you want. A big family. I wanted my children to have siblings, something I grew up without. She wanted big holidays and a house full of messes.” I smiled, remembering how fondly we used to talk about our dreams.
“What happened?” Winter asked softly.
It had been ages since I spoke about Veronica to anyone aside from maybe Justin. The words threatened to get stuck in my throat, but I forced them out without meeting Winter’s eye. “She passed away a few years ago.”
Winter didn’t say anything at first.
So that’s what it takes to shut her up. Dead wives. Noted.
