Page 6 of Theirs for the Holidays

My stomach twists. This, this is the problem with lying. Now I have to make up some person who doesn’t exist and then try to find someone who fits that bill to come to the wedding. Because Andrew’s not going to let it go, and now Isabelle is looking like she’s hungry for details, and Mom is torn between surprise and skepticism.

I have no idea what to say, but before I can even start to formulate words, not one, not two, but three voices suddenly speak up in unison, saying, “Me.”

3

VIOLET

Shock makes me go still,and I glance quickly between Rhett, Lennox, and Sawyer. Because they’re the ones who spoke up. And considering how tense things are between them, I’m guessing it wasn’t a coordinated thing. They just all spoke up at the same time. To say they’re dating me.

What the hell is going on?

The table is silent, everyone looking as shocked as I feel.

Andrew’s eyes are wide, and he also looks between his brothers, shaking his head. “Wait, what? You… you’re dating my brothers? All three of them?”

God, I hate this. I feel caught, pinned underneath the silence and the stares from everyone else at the table. I have no idea what to say now. I had no idea they were going to speak up and say what they just said. I don’t know what they’re doing. I just wanted to save face in front of Andrew and not have to deal with the terrible, condescending pity in his voice when he talked about me not having anyone.

A glance at his three older brother confirms that none of them consulted with the others before deciding to speak up. They’re looking at each other the way you look at someone whenthey say something that surprises you, but it’s a subtle thing, probably not noticeable to anyone else.

The three of them are just as surprised as I am.

Rhett recovers first, clearing his throat and shrugging. “Yeah.”

Mom is staring at the three of them, looking between them and then back to me. “What?” she asks, shaking herself. “I’m sorry… I just… what?” She seems stunned and confused, and there’s a small part of me that is amused at catching her off guard.

Lennox snorts. “It’s the twenty-first century,” he says in his deep, even voice. “It’s a nontraditional relationship. You’ve heard of those, right? We’re all dating Violet.”

Coming from Lennox, it seems almost reasonable. He has this way of talking that makes everything he says sound believable and true.

But Mom doesn’t seem to be digesting it well. She leans back in her chair, her eyes wide. There’s a twist to her mouth that lets me know she’s not on board and is put off by the situation, but she’s too polite to go off about it with guests in the house.

So she just swallows and nods shallowly. “Oh. Well, then.”

“Okay, wait,” Andrew says, cutting in. “How did you even start dating them?” He addresses that to me. “They haven’t been back here in years.”

None of his brothers seem to know what to say to that, and I falter for a second, my brain scrambling to come up with something that will sound plausible.

“We’ve been doing long distance,” I say all at once, remembering the plot of a movie I watched recently. “We reconnected online a while ago, and things just sort of sparked between us.”

Isabelle raises an eyebrow. “Online? Like on a dating app?”

I shake my head. “No, it was on social media. One of them sent me a message to check in, and I responded, and it went from there.”

“And you never stopped to think you didn’t need three of them?” Isabelle laughs, sharing a look with Andrew that’s not quite snide, but definitely isn’t warm.

“Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’ sound obnoxiously. “Go big or go home, right?”

“Are you happy?” That question is from Dad, who so far hasn’t said anything about it. I cringe a little internally, because it doesn’t feel good to lie to him. Part of me is waiting for him to try to defend my honor or something and demand to know what the three of them think they’re doing, all dating his daughter.

But of course he doesn’t. My dad is too hands off for that. Too calm and eager to stay out of any drama.

He looks at me steadily, and I give him a little smile, nodding. My insides twist with guilt.

“Yeah,” I say out loud. “I’m pretty happy.”

“That’s good,” he replies.

Mom looks like she doesn’t know what to ask, her lips pressed into a thin line. I know if I let Isabelle and Andrew get going, then they’ll come up with all kinds of questions, trying to either make me feel bad or poke holes in the story.