Very Merry Married (Kringle Family Christmas)

“I don’t want to.”

Matt sat back. Stunned. “You don’t want to divorce her?”

“Not now. Not…yet?”

“You want to fuck her so you remember it and then divorce her? That’s shit.”

“No. Not like that. I want to see why we got married.”

“Tequila. I told you.”

“No, come on. Why did I so something so out of character for me? I had to have a reason, right? And don’t say tequila again.”

“You know, I’m only telling you this because you’re drunk and you won’t remember, but I’ve always liked how you made up your mind about shit. I had one option, my whole life, hockey. It was all I was good at. All I wanted to do.”

“Trust me, I remember.”

“But you? Fuck man, you could have done anything. Been anything. But you never got distracted. You have a vision and you go for it. Totally decisive.”

“What’s that have to do with Lexie?”

“I’m just saying, you saw something in her you liked. Something you wanted and you went after it. Seems natural to want to see if it was real or just chemistry. What does she say?”

“She says she wants a divorce but I can tell she’s into me. Into us. She remembers the whole night and… don’t laugh. I swear, Matt. Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh.”

“We made a sex tape.”

Matt laughed so hard he fell over.

“Stop. It’s not that funny.”

“You better pray that thing doesn’t get out in the world before the election. Or after. Or ever, frankly.”

I put my head back on the back of the sofa and groaned. “What do I do?”

“Date her.”

“What?”

“Date her. Woo her. Do whatever fucking charming thing you do to get girls to fall for you. I’ve been watching you do it for, like, twenty years. Work the Ethan Kringle magic.”

“I’ve been doing that. She’s impervious.”

“Then give her the Matt Kringle treatment.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Kiss her until she stops arguing.” I stared at my brother, baffled. He shrugged. “Works for me.”

It did work for him. Fuck. Was I taking dating advice from my brother?

“For what it’s worth, I think she’s nice,” Matt said.

“She is nice.”

“I also think she is hot. I mean, come on. That body. Those curves. A smokeshow.”

“Hey.” I leaned forward. “Stay away from her, NHL hotshot. Just stay away.”

17

Lexie

I walked into Ethan’s house after my fourth day of work, surprised to see him in his kitchen. He hadn’t cooked for me after the first night and while I knew in my soul it was a mistake, it was nice to walk into a place where someone was making you a meal.

Mom’s idea of making me a meal when I went to her house for dinner was martinis with olives and a pickle plate.

“Hey!” he said, his face flushed from stirring something on the stove. “I went to Sweet Bliss today and I picked up their most popular thing, Jake, the guy behind the counter’s favorite thing, and my usual.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. But—”

“You have to eat, Lexie,” he said in that totally sensible, don’t argue with me voice that sort of turned me on. Last night I’d driven him home from the inn because he’d gotten all wet and then had three drinks with his brother and started to watch Star Wars but then fell asleep and Matt kicked him out.

Drunk Ethan was my catnip. And it had taken everything in my power not to curl up in his lap and kiss that goofy grin on his face.

I’d been very proud of myself for resisting, but now here he was sort of making me dinner. “If you want me to leave, I will, but you should eat,” he said.

I didn’t want him to leave. Not at all. I wanted him to stay and take off his clothes. I wanted to take off mine. I wanted my wedding night relived but this time him remembering all the ways he’d turned me inside out. All the sweet things he’d whispered in my ear.

“You don’t have to leave,” I said.

“Come on. Sit.” He pushed out the stool at his island. “You look like you’ve had a day. My father said rehearsals have started for the pageant.”

“Really? How does he know? I haven’t seen him around.”

“He said the voices really carried.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” Some of those kids’ voices would carry through glass.

I collapsed onto the stool and at my hand was a glass of red wine. Henny, in my head, was starting to kick up a fuss, but I shut her up with a giant gulp of the wine. “They’re enthusiastic. And they’re sweet.”

“Well, even my sister says what you’re doing with them is amazing. And she doesn’t say nice things. As a rule.”

“I like Kristen. A lot. And Jasmine. I want to form a girl gang with them and have Ben make us jackets. I might have to let Chelsea in, too. And frankly Ben.”