Kissmas Wishes (Love In All Seasons 3)

“Yeah, looks like I missed thirty-eight texts from my sister, fourteen from my neighbor. Three voicemails. Oh, and my friends who I was supposed to go to the party with, left me angry messages. Until they apparently heard my sister, then they were apologetic,” I tell him, laughing.

“So no one’s worried?”

“No,” I tell him reading through the texts. “Sounds like the state patrol got in touch with my sister pretty quickly.”

“So you’ll go over to her house later today?” Everett asks.

“Yeah, I mean after I deliver the wreaths and get cleaned up.” I look out the window, my stomach in knots. “Would you want to come to her house for dinner?”

“Oh, I should probably get back to my place before another storm hits.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense.” I swallow back the tears. He is just straight up rejecting me now.

I text my sister and tell her I’m okay and that I’ll see her later tonight. She immediately calls me.

Pressing accept, I hold the phone to my ear. “Are you okay? We’ve all been worried sick.”

“I’m good. Really. I’ve been very well taken care of in what could’ve been a terrible situation,” I tell her, my eyes on Everett’s profile. His face turns towards mine.

“You swear to God everything is okay? Talk about a freak storm.”

“Everything is just perfect. Is Tommy good? Is he having a good Christmas morning?”

“We’re having a perfect Christmas morning. In fact,” she says, practically squealing, “now that you’ve told me you’re okay, I’ll tell you my big news. I’m pregnant!”

“Wow,” I tell her, stunned by the news. Though, there’s no reason for me to be surprised. Of course, my sister’s pregnant. Of course, she’s having this life that is perfect. “I’m so happy for you.”

We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone, my hands shaking.

“What were you pretending to be happy about?” Everett asks in a steady way, seeing through my fake enthusiasm.

“My sister is pregnant.”

Everett nods but doesn’t say a word. Neither do I. We drive down the mountain in silence, the whole time I force myself to look out the window, and blink back tears for what isn’t mine.Chapter FourteenThe drive to her place is fucking torture. I know she’s upset.

Damn, I know I haven’t known Evie forever, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Evie has this wild life, but it sounds like she wants something different.

I can tell by the way she looks out the window, not wanting to talk -- which isn’t like her at all. And I swear to God she’s been blinking back tears for the last hour.

I want to wipe those tears away; I want to pull her in my arms and tell her that I’ll give her a baby. I’ll make her a mother. I’ll give her everything she wants.

But I don’t tell her any of that. I have no right to make promises to a woman who isn’t mine. No way do I want to rip Evie away from the life she has made for herself.

And dammit, I know I was cold and detached on the drive, but what the fuck could I do? I could never ask her to give up everything for me.

We pull up to her driveway, I see a house that I was not expecting. “This is it, right here,” she says pointing.

In her driveway, I turn off the truck. I’m about to say something that resembles a goodbye when she asks me to stay.

“Before you go, you want to come inside, use the bathroom or have something to drink?”

I nod slowly, grateful to have a reason to stay. I don’t want to leave her yet.

I don’t want to leave her ever.

“Sounds nice.” I start unloading the wreaths and set them on her front porch.

Her house is a little cottage. Tiny, really. Gingerbread trim, a white rocker out front. Garlands hung across the porch, and twinkling Christmas lights everywhere, covering every square inch of her molding.

“I bet it’s gonna be freezing in here,” she tells me, unlocking the front door, and swinging it open.

“Let’s keep the wreaths on the porch since I’ll be delivering them anyways.”

“Make sense,” I tell her and I set the ones in my hand down. Once I’ve unloaded them all, I head inside. She’s cranked up the thermostat and turned on lights.

My house is minimalist, but this home is just that. A home.

She has a Christmas tree covered with handmade ornaments, wrapped gifts underneath the tree. On her mantelpiece, there are stockings hung, a Nutcracker collection on display. She has red and green pillows on the couch -- a fluffy pink couch -- a couch that screams Evie.

I follow her into the kitchen that has open shelving and is full of platters and plates, glassware and mixing bowls. It’s not messy, it’s just full. Full of life.