Page 157 of Theirs for the Holidays

It takes a while for the conversation to get back on track after that little interlude, but eventually the chit-chat starts flowing more easily. When Isabelle gets up to grab another drink from the drink tray Mom set out, I notice Andrew walk over and try to put his arm around her. She subtly elbows him away, taking half a step in the other direction, and I wince.

Clearly, there’s a lot going on there. I’m not sure what their first year of marriage has been like, but it’s safe to say they’rewaypast the honeymoon stage.

It doesn’t make me happy to see that they both seem a bit miserable in their marriage, but the petty part of me has to admit that there’s a certain karmic satisfaction in seeing that Isabelle’s ‘perfect’ life isn’t quite as perfect on the inside as she clearly wants it to look on the outside.

I know my mother has several more rounds of appetizers planned, but once we’ve been at my parents’ house for a littleover an hour, I glance over at Rhett, subtly tugging on my left ear lobe. That’s the secret signal that I’m about ready to get out of here.

He must’ve been watching for it—waitingfor it—because he practically springs to his feet as soon as my fingers touch my ear, clapping his hands together once.

“Well, we’d probably better head out,” he declares. “We’ve got plans to head to the cabin tonight, and we want to give ourselves plenty of time in case there’s any snow on the roads.”

Lennox and Sawyer stand up too, and the four of us start saying our goodbyes. My mother looks a bit offended, as if we all just insulted her cooking, spilled our drinks all over the carpet, and then flipped over all the furniture instead of just leaving a bit early, like I told her we would weeks ago.

“I thought maybe you’d at least stay for dessert,” she mutters under her breath as she and my father walk us to the door.

I wince a little. I’ve become a lot more immune to her guilt trips than I used to be, but she still sometimes manages to get me with that tone of voice.

But before I can open my mouth to apologize or explain again that we need to give ourselves plenty of time to get to the cabin, my father surprises me by speaking first.

“Let it go, Patricia,” he says firmly. “She told you when you invited her that they wouldn’t be able to stay the whole time.”

Mom blinks. “Yes, but?—”

But instead of backing down like I’ve seen him do dozens of times with my mother, avoiding conflict at all costs, he shakes his head. “But nothing. She came and spent time with us, which frankly, we should be grateful for. Now she wants to spend time with her boyfriends. She has a family of her own now, and this is their first Christmas together.”

My mother gapes at him for a minute, obviously pretty stunned that he stood up to her so forcefully. To be honest, I amtoo. But I like seeing this new side of my dad. I hope he lets it out more often.

Rather than arguing more, my mother finally nods, looking a bit chagrined. She opens the door for me and the guys, stepping forward to give each of us little hugs. My dad hugs us too, and when he gets to me, I wrap my arms around him tight and give a little squeeze.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He nods against my hair. “Have a good Christmas, sweetheart. Love you.”

With that, we head out.

As we climb into the SUV, Sawyer shoots me a grin from the back seat. “You know what, Peaches? Your dad’s alright.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “He is.”

Lennox snorts, sliding into the back next to Sawyer. “Did you see Isabelle and Andrew? Jesus fucking Christ, must not be much fun to live inthathouse.”

Rhett shrugs, starting the engine. “Yeah, well, Karma’s a bitch.”

His thoughts are an echo of mine, and I reach over to take his free hand as he spins the wheel with the other, backing us out of the driveway. He raises my our joined fingers, kissing my knuckles, and warmth seems to travel from the place where his lips touch my skin all the way to my heart, settling there.

I hope Isabelle and Andrew figure things out, I really do. But for tonight, I don’t want my sister or my ex to take up another second of my thoughts. I’d rather think about my three incredible men, and how we’re about to celebrate our first Christmas Eve together.

It only takes us an hour to get to the cabin, and the lights are on inside when we arrive. The place is both rustic and incredibly modern in some respects, which means Rhett has remote access to the lights.

It looks warm and inviting, and we grab our bags and head inside quickly. The place is already decorated, with a tree in the corner and lights and garlands strung all along the walls.

“This is the perfect place to celebrate Christmas,” I say, turning slowly to take in the full picture of it.

We were all up here a few weeks ago and decorated it together, but I’d forgotten how good it looks. I’ve always loved the dark wood and simple décor of the cabin, and the festive trimmings just make it seem even more cozy. But now that it’s all decked out for the holidays, it feels even better.

“Well, we know how much you love Christmas,” Lennox says. “We had to make sure it would be perfect.”

I let out a happy little sigh before shucking off my coat and shoes. “I really do. And it is.”