Page 71 of The Spite Date (Small Town Sisterhood #1)

IT’S A VERY MERRY FAMILY CHRISTMAS

Bea

In the five and a half months since Simon’s kids accidentally had me arrested, they’ve become some of my favorite people on the entire planet.

And that’s making this Christmas better than any Christmas my brothers and I have had since our parents died.

“ No way . A water bottle rocket? What even is this?” Charlie crows.

He hit puberty hardcore in September, and his voice is almost as deep as Eddie’s now, but still scratchy.

He’s also grown four inches.

And he’s in shorts and a T-shirt while the rest of us are in long-sleeve Christmas pajamas because that’s what kids who wear jeans and hoodies in summer do when winter hits.

We’re in the room formerly known as the dining room, which currently has the world’s fattest Christmas tree in the center, with space still for a foosball table and an air hockey table and a pool table, where Simon and the boys and I spend hours when they’re staying with us.

This will be the dining room again at some point, whenever we finish renovations on the house and open it as the Athena’s Rest Lodge, which is an idea Simon came up with when I went to visit him on a set in Calgary for a short shoot last month.

The cast and crew had fully taken the vacation rentals, and he and I ended up in an old-fashioned bed-and-breakfast.

“You take in strangers and make them family regularly anyway,” Simon had mused.

“Why not convert that monstrosity of a house to an old-fashioned inn? You and I and the boys hardly need that much space. I merely bought it to be ostentatious in the hopes my parents would see, and now I don’t rightly care what they think. ”

So that’s the long-term plan.

Because we’re taking it slow.

And by slow , I mean I moved into his house as soon as Daphne got back from her road trip, and he’s shown me Los Angeles and his favorite parts of New York and film locations in Canada and Washington state.

He’s taken me to a few of Griff’s games and gave his opinion on the people I interviewed to manage the burger bus so that I could keep one hand in the business and also enjoy traveling and dabbling at writing screenplays with him.

I’m debating if I want to take Spite Burgers into a physical location, or if I want to buy a second bus.

The rebrand has been massively successful. I’d expected business to slow down in winter, but I’ve had so many party requests both in Athena’s Rest and the surrounding areas that I’ve hired more staff.

I needed to anyway.

Turns out, writing scripts is fun, and I like doing that more than I like flipping burgers.

For now, anyway. And if one day I want to do something different, that’s okay too. I don’t think my purpose in life is to settle with any one thing. I think it’s to explore and try as many things as I can.

Also, the Camilles are no longer the family to fear in Athena’s Rest.

After my social media post went so viral that I was slightly more famous than Simon for a hot minute, with countless comments from people who had also been screwed by one member or another of the Camille family mixed in with the thousands of comments in support of me, Damon retired from ambulance chasing and Lucinda retired from teaching fourth grade.

She also turned over control of the community theater to Molly Taylor, whom Hudson still hasn’t worked up the guts to ask out, mostly because he says he doesn’t want his college dating experience to be fully long distance.

Logan Camille took a job in Wisconsin after one too many complaints to the local police chief.

And Jake—Jake is still running JC Fig, but only barely.

Simon’s waiting for him to be desperate enough to sell that we can get the building at a bargain, and then he intends to turn it into a museum with a gift shop and a snack bar featuring some of my dad’s favorite recipes.

He still has the drive-in, which he named the Best Drive-In.

He thinks I don’t know the biggest box under the tree is actually seven wrapped boxes nested inside each other with an envelope with the deed to the drive-in signed over to me, but the boys can’t keep secrets.

And it’s not like I couldn’t have guessed.

“If I were to ever screw up so monumentally with you that Ryker did, indeed, bury me somewhere on his farm with no one the wiser, I should wish for you to have every opportunity in the world to continue finding yourself, and that means you should have a diversified business portfolio of already successful businesses to support you while you explore,” he told me over dinner last month when we were arguing over whose name would be on the lodge.

You know.

When it’s done in three years.

“Why is my present making noise?” Lana asks, pulling me back to Christmas as she shakes the wrapped present Ryker just handed her.

The boys giggle.

Of course she’s here. She’s family too. She and Simon have a solid friendship, with regular exasperation on her part that she tells me is less since he started dating me, and I adore her more every time we hang out. She’s rapidly becoming a sister of my heart.

“Remember when Mom got Dad those dinosaur slippers that roared?” Hudson says to Griff.

“Those were fucking awesome,” Griff replies.

“He said the fuck word, Mum,” Charlie says.

“He’s a grown man who lives in locker rooms, so we’ll have to overlook his terrible language,” Lana replies.

“I actually learned it from Eddie,” Griff says. “No one curses in locker rooms anymore.”

Eddie gasps.

Charlie snickers.

My brothers are less uncle and more brothers to the boys.

It’s pretty awesome.

And when it comes to the boys, I’m more doting aunt than stepmother-ish.

Simon refuses to ask for help with doctor appointments and school pickups and homework assistance, but I do go see the school plays when Eddie’s running the soundboard, and I go to the middle school art exhibits and ooh and ahh over Charlie’s artwork, which we all agree is brilliant on a level that none of us completely understand.

In short, I get the fun part of being a parent figure without the responsibilities.

I get to enjoy them for who they are, with a little bit of being a role model and disciplinarian thrown in when necessary.

“Boys, are you so for real right now?” Lana says as she tears the wrapping paper off her gift.

She cracks up.

Simon snickers.

I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from gasp-laughing.

“That’s terrifying,” Hudson says.

Lana points the talking Eddie doll at Simon. “I told you, no more than a hundred dollars .”

“I am highly offended that you think I would break our bargain,” Simon says with a sniff. “The boys made those as art projects at school.”

He’s lying through his teeth and we all know it.

“I love my mum the best!” the Charlie doll announces.

It’s creepy and weird and terrifying, and also hilarious.

The dolls are each about eighteen inches tall, with cloth bodies hiding the sound boxes and porcelain heads that have been perfectly sculpted to capture the boys’ faces as they are exactly right now.

I’ve heard about them—though the conversations I’ve overheard have mostly been giggles from all three of the Luckwood gentlemen—but this is the first time I’ve seen them too.

“I got your back, Lana,” Griff says. “Unlike some people in this room, I was taught to live like a pauper during profitable times so that I can retire like a king at thirty. And I got this wicked cool endorsement deal for a fried chicken chain too, so king might be underestimating how rich I’ll be.

The sky’s the limit with whatever you want to do to get them back. ”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll enjoy vengeance best when I do it solo,” she replies.

Simon scoots closer to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Bea is innocent, so please do bear that in mind whenever you decide to do something you cannot take back.”

“Bea won’t suffer.”

“Bea might help,” I agree. “I don’t have to be the adult in the room anymore.”

All three of my brothers look around like they’re just now realizing Daphne’s not here. As if she’d be another adult in the room.

“She’s coming later,” I tell them.

They give me the trademark Best feral grin.

I grin back.

We are definitely having fun when Daph gets here.

If she can.

Snow’s coming, and it looks like it’s already started pretty thick.

Ryker notices too.

He rises quickly. “I have a present.”

“You mean you have one to open or one to give?” Charlie asks.

“It’s a very important distinction,” Eddie agrees.

“One’s selfish.”

“One’s not.”

“You’re not usually selfish.”

“But Christmas can do things to people.”

“All of those wrapped boxes…”

“It’s irresistible, even for mature teenagers like us.”

Ryker stares at the twins.

They grin at him.

He tries to suppress a smile, but he can’t quite get there.

Simon won Ryker over with the exact thing he’s going for now.

The secret passageway.

We all know about it. I’ve even been through it, with Simon and Tank and three industrial-grade flashlights.

It’s pretty cool.

If a bit tight.

And it doesn’t go to our bedroom or Simon’s office, and they’re both slated for renovation at separate times so that we don’t have to worry about using a room connected to the secret passageways, ever.

“No fair—you said we couldn’t hide presents in there,” Eddie says to Simon.

“Sometimes life is utterly miserable,” Simon replies, deadpan.

Ryker reemerges from the secret passageway. He balances a lidded file folder box on one hip while he tilts the wall sconce that’s the secret mechanism to open and shut the door, and the door closes again.

Something rustles inside the box.

I blink fast because my eyes are getting hot.

This one’s kind of a big deal.

This one’s going to need more from me than what I’ve had to give to anyone since Hudson left for college.

And I’m stupidly excited about it.

Ryker deposits the box in front of the boys. “I hate wrapping so I hid it instead,” he lies. “Merry whatever. Don’t be dicks.”

Griff snorts.

Hudson does too.

Ryker’s said don’t be dicks to them every single Christmas since he was fifteen, when he gave Griff a pie-in-the-face game and Hudson some game called Exploding Kittens .

He did it again the year after Mom and Dad died to keep the normalcy, and it’s stuck.

Eddie and Charlie both dive for the box.

“Don’t hit your heads together,” Lana yelps.

The box yelps back.

The boys gasp, and they switch to seamless, in sync motions to pull the lid off.

“ It’s a puppy! ” Charlie screams.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Eddie wipes his eyes. His chin is trembling. “Is this real? Is this really our dog?”

“Can’t have you stealing mine,” Ryker says dryly.

The boys look at Lana.

She nods.

They look at Simon.

He nods too.

They look at me, and my eyes get misty. “I’m backup when you need an extra hand with her,” I tell them.

“She’s a she?” Charlie lifts the pup out of the box, staring in wonder at the golden retriever puppy.

“She’s a she, and she’s your responsibility first and foremost,” Simon says.

“Can we name her Buttercup?” Eddie asks.

“You have to agree on a name, and you have to potty train her, and you have to take her on walks and pick up her poop,” Lana says.

“We’re gonna be the best dog dads.” Charlie’s voice cracks. “This is the best day of my life.”

Simon kisses my shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“It’s the very, very, very least that I can do for you and them.”

Lana’s not ready for a dog, and Simon still travels a lot. So this is only possible because I convinced them both that I’d be the dog’s primary backup caretaker when I’m not traveling with Simon, and Ryker will cover when I’m gone.

She’s a family dog. For the boys.

“It’s far more than the least you’ve done,” Simon insists.

“Maybe a smidge.”

“ Oh my god, she’s peeing on me! ”

I snicker.

“You’ve been chosen,” Hudson says.

“Dogs only pee on people they like,” Griff agrees.

“I don’t miss you during baseball season.” Ryker grunts as he moves back to the boys. “She needs to go outside every time she pees so she associates peeing with going outside.”

They both jump to their feet.

My brother trails them out of the room.

Lana furrows her brows at me. “He didn’t even make a face at you for what you signed him up for too.”

“Because Bea’s the best,” Griff says.

“We made a pact to never get mad at her for anything,” Hudson agrees.

“Plus she’s making Dad’s honey puff pancakes for breakfast.”

“We don’t get honey puff pancakes if we misbehave.”

“And that includes making faces at her.”

“And not helping when she gets her boyfriend’s kids a dog for Christmas.”

Lana stares at them. “Are you two for real?”

“Good god, they’re like Eddie and Charlie,” Simon says.

I can’t tell if it’s admiration or horror in his voice.

Probably both.

Usually is when he discovers one more way his kids are similar to my brothers.

And sometimes I think that’s what he likes most about me.

That I’ve done this parenting thing.

With kids super similar to his.

So I can assure him—and I regularly do—that he’s not fucking them up.

“Dad?” Charlie calls. “We lost the dog in the snow.”

“Of course they did,” Lana says.

Simon rises quickly.

I hold out a hand, and he helps me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asks again.

“For family and fun and stories to tell their kids one day when we’re sitting on our front porch in our old people rocking chairs?” I grin.

“Absolutely.”