Page 3 of Sweet Yuletide (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #4)

“And I’ve seen everyone in this room except Von drunk, including Mom and Dad, yet you don’t see me accusing any of you of being…” He couldn’t say it. “I drink a beer now and then. More on the weekends, but it’s always been like that. I’m not a drunk or a druggie.”

A vein throbbed on his dad’s neck. “Your recent lifestyle suggests otherwise, especially sleeping somewhere different almost every other night.”

“My friends aren’t kicking me out.” The words rushed out of Michael’s mouth. He was compelled to defend himself, even if they were dead wrong. “I don’t want to take advantage of anyone.” And he planned to reward their generosity once he had his winnings.

“You could stay here,” Mom offered.

He stifled a groan. “I’m too old to move back home. And there’s no need for anyone to keep tabs on me.”

Madison leaned forward. “Your eyes aren’t bloodshot.”

“Of course not. The last drink I had was here on Sunday night. It’s none of your business, but I haven’t taken so much as a pain reliever in months.”

Once again, glances passed around the room.

This is unreal . “Do you want me to pee in a cup? Take a blood test? Because I get the feeling that’s what you’ll need to believe me.”

“That’s not funny, Mikey.” His father’s nostrils flared. “This is serious. We’ve checked into rehab centers and found space for you in one. We’ll pay—”

“Unnecessary.” He glanced at Von. “Please, help me out here. Your sister’s boyfriend is an alcoholic, right?”

Von nodded. “Josh is sober and doing well.”

“Happy to hear that, but it makes you the most experienced with this. Does anything in my behavior suggest I’m drunk or high or have a problem?” Michael asked him.

Von glanced at Marley, who nodded. “No, and I mentioned that to everyone before you arrived.”

Relief surged through Michael. At least someone was on his side.

“You show up on time. You haven’t lost weight. You’re dressing the same way you always have, other than the beard,” Von continued. “And you don’t smell like alcohol.”

“Thank you.” Except his future brother-in-law appeared to be the only one who believed Michael.

Part of him wanted to tell everyone the truth, but if word slipped out—accidentally at a holiday party or Christmas celebration—it would ruin all the plans his team was putting in place.

If he collected the jackpot anonymously, people, including strangers, wouldn’t ask for money.

His family wouldn’t be the target of scammers out to make a buck or steal from them.

Monroe wouldn’t need a bodyguard to keep some lunatic from taking him.

His mom’s knee bounced. “If you’re really okay and this is all a… misunderstanding, why won’t you come with us to North Carolina for Christmas?”

Because I would have zero privacy and be unable to keep in touch with the people who are setting everything up for me . This was a critical time, and he wanted to be available if needed. Michael hated withholding the truth from her—from everyone. “There’s stuff I need to do.”

His mom’s shoulders drooped. “What stuff is so important it requires you to be alone for the holidays?”

This year was the first time the Patterson clan—including aunts, uncles, and cousins—wouldn’t gather for Christmas in Charleston. Everyone was spending the holidays with their in-laws who’d been ignored for…

Well, forever .

His parents were spending the holidays with his mom’s family in Asheville, while Mason and Monroe would travel with Ashleigh to Savannah.

Madison was heading with Rory and his family to Colorado.

Marley and Von were meeting his twin sister, Hope, and their parents in Berry Lake, Washington, to be with Josh Cooper and his family.

Michael preferred spending the next few weeks on his own, preparing for his new life. And though his team wouldn’t be with him per se, they had web meetings and calls all the time. Which gave him an idea—one that might appease his mom. “Who said I’d be alone?”

Silence fell over the room. The only sound was the crackling wood in the fireplace.

Madison closed her gaping mouth. “Do you finally have a girlfriend?”

“I never said that.”

“But your friends will be with their families over the holidays,” Marley said.

“Who is she?” Ashleigh asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

“I bet she has blond hair and is a foot shorter than you,” Madison said.

“Of course, she’s petite and has blond hair,” Ashleigh agreed.

Marley nodded. “Mikey has a definite type.”

“But what about the second phone?” his mom asked.

Once again, his lottery win provided the answer—a truthful one. “I’m using it for business. That way I don’t miss any calls, and I didn’t have to make my voice mail greeting professional.”

Mason nodded. “Yeah, those burps you have on there wouldn’t go over well if someone wanted to set up an interview.”

Suddenly, everyone talked over each other, laughing about their intervention and showing the same relief Michael felt. From addicted to attached in minutes. A good thing he loved them so much, but they could drive a person to drink.

The only problem?

There wasn’t a girlfriend. Nor would there be one soon.

He didn’t want to date or fall in love. Not with so many things changing in his life. And once he had the money, Michael had no idea how that might work. He didn’t want to make someone he liked sign an NDA before they went out. Trust would be a big issue. Insurmountable, even.

But if his family wanted to believe he’d met a woman, so be it—and in his defense, he worked with three women on his team. The dates on his calendar were for calls or meetings, not dinner or a movie, but no one needed to know that.

Finally, his family quieted.

“Do you want to stay at the house over Christmas?” The tight lines had disappeared from his mom’s face.

Michael wished that were an option, but he had to get out of Charleston. “I’m thinking of driving to Myrtle Beach.”

“That’s too far. Why not spend the holidays in Indigo Bay?” Von asked. “You can stay at my house.”

Marley straightened. “That’s a great idea.”

Von nodded. “We leave on the eighteenth for Berry Lake and we’ll be back on the thirty-first in time to host the Pattersons’ New Year’s Eve party.”

“You told me you love the place,” Marley added as if Michael needed any convincing.

Von was a contractor. He’d remodeled the beachfront cottage in Indigo Bay after buying it from his parents, who were living in an RV and visiting every state.

A free place to stay less than an hour away? That should be far enough away from Charleston to give him anonymity. Michael smiled. “That would be great, but will Hope mind?”

“She’s already in Washington, so the place will be empty.” Von flashed an encouraging smile. “When we spoke the other day, she mentioned something about finding a house sitter before the call dropped. It’s fine. You can use my bedroom.”

“This will be awesome.” And cheaper than renting a place or booking a room somewhere, since Michael had a credit card, but cash was tight.

He’d used his severance check to cover the initial retainer for his team.

“Text me what you want done while you’re away, and I’ll take care of it, including getting things for the party. ”

Von grinned. “That would be great. I’ll also need you to bring in the mail and water a few plants. I’ll leave the Wi-Fi password on the kitchen counter. You can help yourself to whatever food is there. Not that there’s much with Hope away.”

“I can feed myself.” Even if he ended up living off frozen pizzas and ramen since he wasn’t much of a cook. “I appreciate it.”

“I hung lights and garland on the front of the house and the rear deck, but we didn’t put up a tree since we won’t be there on the twenty-fifth.”

As Marley side-eyed Von, she pointed to the tree in the corner. “Neither will my parents, yet they have one.”

Von kissed her. “I can put one up before we leave.”

“It’s fine,” Michael said. “I don’t need a tree.”

“Mikey.” His mom’s tone held a warning. “You love trees.”

This wasn’t worth fighting over. “I can get one myself.”

“We have decorations in the garage,” Von said. “I’ll leave them by the door in case you want to use them.”

Michael’s gut instinct was to say no, but that wouldn’t go over well with his mother. “Thanks.”

“Yes, thank you so much.” Relief shone in his mother’s eyes. She fanned herself. “This evening has turned out better than I’d expected. And I’ll worry less knowing Mikey is at your place than spending the holidays in a dive motel, shooting up somewhere.”

Come January, he would remind his mom of what she just said.

“Me, too,” he joked. “But the next time you plan an intervention, make sure you put out appetizers. I’m starving.”

Everyone laughed.

“Seriously, I appreciate the love, but I’m doing great.” And things would only get better—seven-hundred-million-dollars-minus-taxes better. “Please don’t worry about me at all.”

Come January, Mikey Patterson would shock each one of them.

In the best possible way.