Page 10 of Make You Mine This Christmas (Holly Ridge #2)

Austin

I pull into Cole and Blaire’s driveway, leaving the engine idling while I take a deep breath.

After feeling suffocated by the day with Brody, I’m happy I had an excuse to bail out a little early today.

It’s not the time to dwell on it though.

With precious cargo in the back seat, it’s too cold not to get out of the car immediately once the heat is off.

Even with the dramatics of Melody throwing up in their minivan on the way home from photos in Springfield yesterday, all while Blaire is away from the girls overnight for the first time, my mind can’t stop replaying Brody saying, “I couldn’t let you come with me” over and over again.

Cassidy coos in the backseat, bringing me back to the present. “All right, little miss. Let’s get you inside to Daddy and see how he and your sister have fared today after your day with Grandma.” We hustle through the cold to the front door, which opens for us as we hit the porch.

“Get in, get in, it’s freezing,” my best friend says, like he’s not the one who hasn’t left the house all day.

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.” My snark dies on my lips as I take in the state of the living room behind Cole. “Melody didn’t suddenly learn how to walk, did she?”

Cole rakes his hand through his hair. “No, but this is the first time all day she’s let me put her down and stayed asleep. Her fever finally broke, so I think she’s feeling better.” He reaches for Cassidy, and I hand her over, using my free hands to start picking up bottles and burp cloths.

“Hi, baby. Daddy missed you.” I turn, ready to snark I missed him too, but the sight of Cole looking at his daughter with so much joy makes the words freeze in my throat. I can’t help but wonder when the last time was I looked that happy.

Cole follows me into the kitchen, where I toss the burp cloths toward the door to the laundry and drop the bottles in the sink. I pull open the dishwasher to find it full of clean dishes and get to work putting them away.

“You know, this is becoming a bad habit of yours, making yourself at home,” he says, bouncing Cassidy on his arm, a smirk on his face.

“Consider it back pay for all the times you helped us out,” I say, not needing to look back at Cole to know his expression had changed to one of pity.

“That’s different. Your mom was sick, and you were working three jobs to keep you guys afloat. Doing some dishes and running the vacuum while you were out at treatments is the least I could do.”

“I know,” I say, putting away the last bowl and starting to rinse what’s in the sink to load the dishwasher again.

“And now, you’ve got your hands full. I know you and Blaire are doing better than floating, but I can help, so I will.

” Cole steps up next to me at the counter, and I finally look his way.

“What’s brought this up? Is everything okay?” His face is full of concern, his voice soft and full of care.

“Oh, she’s fine. She had her scans last month, and everything is still clear. I dunno, your life is so different now, and this is a way I can still fit.”

Cole’s expression turns to one of shock, his mouth open. “Of course you still fit, Austin. There’s a reason we didn’t even consider anyone else to be the girls’ godfather. You don’t have to earn your place in our life. We love having you around.”

Emotion catches in my throat for the second time since I walked through the front door. I’m not afraid to express my emotions, but I haven’t cried in months, and now twice in almost as many days? Fucking Brody.

My best friend’s eyes widen with understanding. “Do you want to grab these girls a bottle and sit by the fire?”

“And I thought I didn’t need to earn my place,” I tease, knowing exactly what Cole is trying to do.

“I can certainly try to feed them both at once, but I think you’d rather have a cute baby to focus on while you tell me what happened with Brody.” He hands me Cassidy without another word and heads to grab Melody from her bassinet in the living room.

“Your daddy thinks he knows everything,” I say to the happy girl in my arms, grabbing one of the formula mixed bottles.

We’re settled into my usual armchair, slurping away when Cole comes in with a much happier looking baby than the last time I saw her.

The fact that she’s not covered in sour-smelling formula vomit helps too.

“So, what happened after the store Tuesday night?”

I look at him wide-eyed, wondering how he knows about our late-night activities. I feigned a headache on the drive yesterday to avoid any questions about my sullen mood, and Melody’s exorcist impression on the way home distracted us the rest of the way.

He scoffs at me. “C’mon, your cashier was Barbara, and she recognized our new Santa. She referred to you as a mystery man when she told Susie about it, but I knew exactly who the Superman lookalike she referred to was. So, what happened?”

I roll my eyes at the gossip train in these towns, but let out a deep sigh and start talking nonetheless.

“Things were okay. Awkward, sure, but we started to turn the corner. And then he wanted to play Twenty Questions. Don’t ask,” I say in response to Cole’s confused look.

“So I asked him why he left without saying goodbye or telling me he wasn’t going to UMass. ”

Cole whistles. “No easing him into it there, huh?”

I shrug, and Cassidy shoots me an annoyed look before going back to finishing her bottle. “I blame the 10:00 p.m. Red Bull. And the fact wondering has plagued me for the last decade.”

He nods in understanding. “So what did he say?”

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to say out loud the words that cut me so deeply.

“He told me I’m the reason he decided to go to UMass.

He heard me tell you I’d go with him to Columbia, so when he ended up needing to change course and go to NYU, he couldn’t let me go with him.

Guess I didn’t measure up to the type of boyfriend you introduced to fellow corporate lawyers or something. ”

Cole blinks at me. “He couldn’t let you? Or he didn’t want you to?”

“He couldn’t let me.” I look back down at the now-sleeping baby in my arms, trying to let the love I feel for her wash out the hurt and shame threatening to drown me at the idea of once again not being good enough.

“And then what did he say?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he elaborate any on why he couldn’t let you?”

“No, I think it was pretty clear.”

Cole’s face takes on the look you give a child when they throw a tantrum over something unreasonable. “I don’t think it’s clear at all. Leaving you without saying goodbye notwithstanding, Brody’s not a cruel person, Austin. And he loved you a whole fucking lot.”

I huff out a breath. “I don’t know that you can discount one of the cruelest things you can do to a person you supposedly love. If he fucking loved me so much, how could he just leave?”

“Or did he love you so fucking much he felt he had no choice but to leave like that?”

I tilt my head to rest on the back of the chair, turning over Cole’s question in my mind, wondering if he’s right. Did Brody’s explanation have more to it I didn’t give him time to share before I kicked him out of my car? Why didn’t he make me listen?

I break the silence after a few minutes. “At some point, we’re going to have to start watching our language, or their first word is going to be one that Blaire will fucking kill us for.”

We both laugh, breaking the heavy feeling hovering over the room.

“You know you need to talk to him again. When you’re ready.”

I nod. “Yeah, when I’m ready.” But can you ever be ready to give someone the chance to break your heart again?

* * *

The next two days don’t find me in a ready state of mind.

I keep my role switched with Minh, stationing me by the front door.

Facing a blast of arctic air every few minutes feels more appealing than having to look into Brody’s sad eyes after every child hops off his lap.

And this air is extra frigid—the polar vortex the weather people kept predicting is firmly swirling around us.

Blaire’s best friend, Charlotte, who I claim as one of my best friends too, sent me a video this morning.

Her future sister-in-law is a meteorologist in Washington, DC, and has an online video explaining what they mean by polar vortex.

The center of this one seems to be right over Holly Ridge and Winterberry Glen.

Soon enough, the first Saturday of my short career as an elf is winding down. We had to force Brody to take his breaks. He wants to get through as many kids as possible. But no one wants to be responsible for scarring children because Santa passes out from dehydration or lack of food.

The door shuts behind the last family at 5:30, thirty minutes later than we’re supposed to close, but Santa Brody won’t let anyone feel rushed.

I want to be annoyed with him, but I can’t be.

Even when I’m mad or hurt or whatever emotions I feel toward him at any moment, I still have to admire how good he is at this.

We’re resetting everything for tomorrow when there’s a sudden pounding at the back door.

“Think that’s a kid trying to see Santa to tell him his family disappeared?” I joke.

Minh gets my Home Alone reference right away. “I think this Santa would ask a few more questions and call CPS or something.”

Someone must have answered the door while we were yapping, and suddenly Susie is in Santa’s Workshop, looking flustered.

I hope something didn’t happen to the big delivery she’s supposed to get for the sugar cookie decorating event tomorrow.

Blaire worried the trucks wouldn’t be able to start in the cold.

“We . . . we have a problem,” she says looking at Brody. Shit, it is the delivery. Susie knows Brody isn’t really Santa, right? He can’t send reindeer to go fly and pick up the supplies?

“What’s up, Susie?” Brody asks. “Is everything okay?”

“No. Well, yes. No one’s hurt, but the pipes in the crawl space above the studio apartment burst.” Everyone’s stopped what they’re doing by now to listen, and a unified gasp emits from at least half of us.

“Jitters is okay. There are some wet supplies and boxes. We’re able to keep the water on for the shop and turn it off to the apartment, but the unit flooded before we got it shut off.

Brody, I’m so sorry, but you’re not going to be able to stay there. ”

“It’s okay, Susie. These things happen when it gets so cold. I’m sure there’s a hotel—”

Jasmine cuts him off. “No way, especially not on the first festival weekend in December. Everything within thirty miles has been booked since June.”

Brody’s face falls. It does something to me to see Santa look so lost. The fact that it’s Santa Brody is even worse. The urge to offer to take him in rises, but I try to tamp it down. He stomped all over my heart again a few days ago. I cannot bring him into my space.

“Austin, don’t you have a spare room?” I look around, bewildered, wondering if my subconscious grew its own voice. I find Jimmy standing to my right, looking smug.

“Oh, Jimmy, great idea,” Susie says, giving Brody a meaningful look. “I know you were friends when Brody lived here before.”

Somehow, I’m the one who’s blushing now, everyone looking my way. Well, everyone except Brody. He’s looking at the floor, like he expects me to say no.

“Yeah, sure, I do have a spare room,” I say, my eyes on Brody so our gazes meet when he lifts his head.

“Oh wonderful.” Susie claps her hands, and that’s enough to break the spell over everyone, setting them into motion to get out of here and get home—probably to check on their own pipes.

I turn to Jimmy, who looks very pleased with himself at what’s happened here. “I thought you said nobody else knew?”

He has the balls to look innocent. “I said everyone didn’t know. I didn’t say no one knew. It’s Susie. Susie knows everything.” He has me there.

Jimmy claps a hand on my shoulder and heads back to his post to shut down the computer for the night. I walk my way over to where Brody and Susie are talking.

“ . . . run up and grab a few things, there’s still a laundromat in Winterberry Glen where I can wash stuff, right?”

An indignant noise escapes before I can stop it. “You can use my laundry if you’re staying with me, Brody. I’m not a monster.”

This causes Brody’s cheeks to redden, and he looks busted. “I don’t want to put you out more than me staying with you already does.”

Susie’s eyes bounce between us trying to read the vibe, and the delighted look on her face doesn’t match the news she delivers next.

“In any case, the water ran out under the door to the apartment and down the steps. It’s a hazard for anyone who’s not a hired contractor to go up there until it gets fixed up.

My insurance broker would have my head if they knew I let you on those ice-covered stairs.

I’m sure Austin can lend you something.”

My breath hitches, imagining Brody wearing my clothes, wearing nothing at all. Nope, we’re not going there. You’re letting him stay because otherwise you would have looked like an ass in front of everyone you worked with, and one of the core gossip cogs in these towns. There’s no other reason.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can figure something out.” I try to keep my tone even, as the reality that Brody, the person I’ve tried to keep out of my head and out of my life for the past ten years, is soon going to be in my home sinks in.

What could possibly go wrong?