Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
So I went through the motions of the holiday, watching Hailey open her presents from Santa before the adults exchanged theirs, Mark grinning about the new fuzzy dice Bree had gifted him to hang from the mirror in his truck.
Bree had carried on our mother’s tradition that we put on ridiculous pajamas and colorful socks while Christmas movies played in the background. We also helped Hailey construct a new dollhouse and other toys with directions that required rocket science and loads of batteries.
Later, after dinner, as we sat around the tree with hot cocoa and cookies, I couldn’t suppress the ache in my chest, wishing Jesse were with us, or that I knew what our future might hold. I pushed away the idea that Jesse would have to move back to his family’s farm, but it must’ve shown on my face because Bree and Mark tiptoed around me, avoiding any teasing or jokes. Bree kept throwing me sympathetic looks or squeezing my shoulder in understanding, which only made me gloomier. “Stop, please. I know it’s not the end of the world.”
“Glad you realize that,” she replied. “But this definitely feels different—for you.”
My stomach balled tight. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. You were hurt, furious, when Steve betrayed you. As you should’ve been. And you know how I felt about him.” She gritted her teeth. “But with Jesse, your feelings seem deeper.”
I nodded, my throat feeling constricted because she was right. Somehow Jesse had gotten under my skin and wound his way around my heart in a more profound way than it had ever been with Steve. Jesse was special and stunning and needed to be cherished, and fuck, did I miss him. His smile and snark. His kindness and warmth.
She leaned toward me and said in a hushed voice, “You love him.”
“I do,” I croaked out, unable to deny it.
Hailey asked for more marshmallows in her mug, and I was glad for the change in topic.
She climbed into Mark’s lap as we began watching a Charlie Brown Christmas special, also a tradition. Ten minutes into it, I noticed Hailey was passed out, even though she’d begged her parents to stay up past her bedtime, and Mark had relented since he’d be getting on the road again in the morning. Suppose that lent to the heavy melancholy as well.
A sharp knock on the door roused her and startled me out of my miserable thoughts. What in the hell?
I listened to Bree’s excited tone, and then a voice rang out that I hadn’t expected to hear in my wildest dreams. Holy fuck. I stood on shaky legs, then strode toward the kitchen.
Jesse standing right in front of me was completely surreal. It had only been days, but it felt like weeks as our gazes connected and his cheeks tinged pink in an adorably shy way.
“Desse!” Hailey squealed, running to him and practically knocking him over. He placed a large brown paper bag on the table, then picked her up and swung her around. Christ, this man was going to be the death of me. Hailey patted his cheek as if checking him over. Right then I envied her as she told him in rapid-fire speech what she’d gotten from Santa.
“You all have cozy pajamas on!” he said as he eyed me across the table, and my cheeks heated as I rolled my eyes.
“I happen to have an extra pair, just in case,” Bree said, then winked at me, like she’d predicted he might show up all along.
I finally found my voice. “Jesse… What are you…”
“I came bearing gifts,” he announced, setting Hailey down on a chair and reaching for the bag he’d walked in with. “The best I could do was the hospital gift shop and, well, the farm too, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to—” Bree began, but he was already removing something I knew could only be for Hailey, and she was clapping her hands excitedly.
“A set of pink lip glosses just like mine,” he explained as he stole a glance in my direction, his gaze knowing, and I couldn’t help the grin that split my face as Hailey studied the package like it was a precious commodity. And it was—definitely—just like the thoughtful man who drove hours to get here before the clock ticked midnight.
“Bree and Mark,” he continued, pulling even more things from the bag. “I thought you’d like farm-fresh eggs, milk, and butter.”
Bree’s eyes widened as she lifted the glass milk bottle. “Wow, this is amazing.”
“Well, not really. But I know how much you like to bake, and nothing beats fresh—”
She threw an arm around him and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best.”
“He is,” I agreed around a scratchy throat, and he had trouble looking at me as his neck splotched red.