Dashing Through the No (Summersweet Island 3)

I suddenly remember Bodhi asked me a question about Owen, and I should probably stop drooling over him and answer it.

“Honestly, I couldn’t stand Owen until he could walk and wipe his own ass.” I shrug, making Bodhi chuckle again as he grabs a red leather book from the side table next to the door that Allie told us has a list of all the amenities offered at The Redinger House, as well as what there is to do in Snowfall Mountain. “Go ahead. Tell me all the fun things there are to do around here.”

Bodhi is practically vibrating with excitement as he thumbs through the book, his eyes getting as wide as a little kid on Christmas morning when they first come downstairs and see what Santa brought. I can’t help but laugh at his exuberance, all the stress from downstairs slowly starting to slip away just listening to him adorably ramble.

“They’ve got a trolley ride around the mountain to look at lights, Christmas PJ game night in the basement, Christmas movies showing every night in the barn behind the house, a Christmas parade down the cobblestone main street, a gingerbread house decorating contest, a Christmas cookie decorating brunch, and oh my God!” Bodhi gushes, bouncing up and down on his feet. “Santa comes on Christmas Eve and gives every single person a present! So freaking cool! I mean, we won’t be here on Christmas Eve, but you know, it’s cool for everyone else.”

For another few seconds, once again, I feel bad that Bodhi’s fun is being taken away and we’re only going to be here for three days. As crazy as it was downstairs when we got here, I still like that it’s just me and Bodhi and we can do whatever we want without following someone else’s schedule or feeling guilty if we don’t want to attend something.

I’ve been spending the night on Christmas Eve at Laura Bennett’s cottage since the year I turned eighteen. Their Christmas Eves are the craziest things I’ve ever seen. Everyone including the Bennetts, me, Emily and her parents, Murphy, and a few extended family members and their kids from the mainland spend the night eating, drinking, and playing card and board games until we all eventually pass out all over the cottage on furniture or curled up on the floor with blankets and pillows. Then everyone wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn, and we all open presents. Together. Everyone ripping into everything at once and no one even paying attention to what’s being opened by others.

Laura had the wall knocked out between her garage and the family room ten years ago to make it one ginormous family room just for Christmas Eve. I am not even kidding. She added on an addition to her cottage for one twenty-four-hour period of the year. And on top of all those people, this year we’ll have the addition of Palmer, Shepherd, and Bodhi. And as great as it is being with everyone every year, the idea of having a nice, quiet Christmas with just me and Bodhi where we can exchange presents in private, and screw under the mistletoe after mimosas if we want, then hang out with everyone later is sounding more and more appealing.

But telling Laura, Birdie, and Wren that I’m not spending the night on Christmas Eve would go over just about as well as me telling Bodhi all the weed in the world suddenly disappeared overnight.

“You want to do every single one of those things, don’t you?” I ask him, even though I already know the answer, since he’s still bouncing up and down and quickly flipping the pages while his eyes get bigger and brighter with each new item he reads.

It all shuts off in the blink of an eye, and Bodhi quickly snaps the book closed and puts it back on the side table next to a motion-activated hippo that starts dancing and singing that god-awful song again.

“Nah, it’s cool.” He shrugs easily as he smacks around at the hippo until he finally finds the button that will shut it off. “This trip is all about you and getting you to relax and stop blaming Tiny Tim for everything.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t blame him when the cops find your body dumped in a field?” I mutter just to be annoying, because he doesn’t know my brain tumor struggles, man, and I’m still feeling weird and melty.

Bodhi walks across the room to me, pausing when his knees bump into mine and I’m looking up at him from the end of the bed with my arms still crossed. Reaching forward with both of his hands, he presses them against either side of my face and then bends forward to kiss the top of my head, holding his lips there while he speaks.