Page 22 of 27 Kisses

But these are our busiest days of the week. Ramon is mostly back to normal. At least no visible mooning. And Lanie has taken to ignoring me. I know she’s busy with school, but she’s also upset that I won’t let her learn how to drive. I’m just not ready. Accidents involving teen drivers are plentiful. And I just can’t do it. Maybe after the holidays. After winter and bad roads.

The weekend rushes by, and I realize we’re less than two weeks away from Christmas. We still need to get Garrett’s place ready. And Garrett.

I get a call from Garrett Saturday night. “I can’t leave. This wedding is getting out of hand. Can you come here?”

“I can’t crash someone’s wedding, love.”

There’s laughter and music in the background. “I could meet you outside the event hall. Out by the big willow tree.”

I love that tree. But I don’t mention that. “What time?”

So that’s how kiss number thirteen happens. I end up at a zombie wedding, making out with Garrett Bishop behind the majestic willow tree while drunk partygoers wander close to our meeting spot. At one point, they’re retrieved by one of Garrett’s employees.

“Who’s that?”

“The twelve-year-old.”

“Right. Jonah. Do you just stare at those muscles all day?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? He might get to look at you—and I’ve seen the way he looks at you—but I get to touch.”

He puts his head against mine. “I wish you got to touch more. It’s been forever.”

“I’m open to suggestions.” Except telling everyone.

“After the party, we could go to my house and fuck.”

I groan. “When is the party over?”

“Probably around three in the morning.”

My scream is muffled by Garrett’s chest. “That’s when I’ll be getting up to bake the bread.”

“Fuck. This is impossible.”

But it doesn’t stop us from sharing a few more kisses.

Eleven Days until Christmas

On Sunday, Garrett arrives at the diner looking bleary-eyed and grumpy. I used to be considered the grumpiest person in town. But Garrett might win the title today. I bring him coffee he didn’t order, just the way he likes it.

“God, I love you,” he says just as Mrs. Weppler walks by. Her mouth drops open and Garrett points to his cup. “I’m talking to my coffee.”

She glances at me and nods. “Christy.”

“Lorrainne. Have a good day.”

Her eyes narrow, and I remember her telling me once to stop being nice to her. But at least she’s no longer focused on Garrett.

I grab a cup and tell Ramon I’m taking a break.

“Are you sure it’s okay to sit with me?”

He’s still salty. That’s just grand.

“You’re my brother-in-law.”