A Very Merry Mess (Cider Cove Sweet Southern RomComs #3)

Elliott

ELLIOTT

I wake up to the sound of Ryanne’s soft breathing, her head nestled against my chest. Even though I can’t see her face clearly in the dim light of the guest house, I can feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine, and my heart does a happy little flip. I’ve never woken up next to a woman before. Well, I did yesterday, but not with the feeling that I could stay here forever, holding her close, listening to the gentle rhythm of her breath.

I ease my arm out from under her, careful not to wake her. The fire in the potbellied stove has died down to embers, and I shiver as I get out of bed. The cement floor is freezing beneath my bare feet, and I hurry over to the woodpile and grab a couple of logs. I get the fire going again, then head to the tiny kitchenette to make coffee.

I’m halfway through measuring the grounds when Ryanne moans, “Being…too…loud,” in her true kitty-cat fashion.

“Go back to sleep for a bit.” Then I can shower and get dressed, and we’ll have coffee before we have to face her family again.

She rolls and pulls the blanket up over her head, and the lumpy shape of her in the bed makes me smile so hard. I will say that Christmas Eve dinner bordered on perfection. Decorating the tree while her mom put the finishing touches on dinner and gifts. The way they all seem to know when to settle down and when to get each other going again.

Her mom and sisters are good cooks too, and a powerful wave of missing my own family bulldozes through me. I set the coffee to brew, and I rummage through my suitcase for an appropriate outfit for Christmas Day. Ry’s said her family does a big huge breakfast, then gifts, and then the cookie baking competition begins. I certainly don’t have to wear slacks and a jacket for that, and I pull out a pair of khakis and one of what my brother calls my “old man sweaters” and head for the bathroom.

I’ll call Momma as soon as I’m ready, and I hurry through getting cleaned up so I can make sure she’s having a good time with Brandon and Shirley. She was taking Peppermint over to my brother’s house last night, so they should be waking up together this morning. “I can’t believe she’s meeting Shirley before me.”

But I’d already committed to coming to New York with Ry, and I can meet Brandon’s girlfriend any time. I’m out of the shower, dressed, and pouring coffee in the kitchenette when my phone rings. Ry’s gone into the bathroom, and she won’t want to talk until she’s properly caffeinated.

I glance at the screen, and my heart skips a beat when I see Momma’s name flashing there. “Hey, Momma,” I answer, my voice pitching up too much. I take a deep breath to settle the missing back down in my stomach and add, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, son.” She sounds a little breathless, like perhaps she just ran a mile. “How are you? How’s Ryanne’s family?”

“Everything is great,” I say just as Ry comes out. She’s wearing a red, white, and green plaid dress, which makes me feel perfectly dressed in my khakis and dark blue sweater with tiny snowflakes on it. We’re both nodding to the season; hers is just more festive than mine.

She sweeps into the kitchen area as I ask, “Have you met Shirley yet?”

“Oh, it’s your mom.” She pours herself a cup of coffee as Momma starts to gush over Shirley and how amazing she is. “I’ll give you a minute.” She sweeps her lips across my cheek and heads out the front door of the guest house, leaving me in privacy to talk to my family this morning.

“Anyway,” Momma says. “She’s a real sweetheart, and I do hope Brandon can get his ducks together to propose.”

I grin and say, “I hope so too, Momma.”

“Anyway,” Momma says airily. “We have some amazing news for you too.” The giddiness comes through in her voice, and my stomach pitches left and right.

“News for me?”

“Hey, bro,” Brandon yells, and it sounds like he’s on the phone now.

“It’s the best Christmas present in the world.” Momma sniffles, and now I’m all worked up. Is this good news? Or not?

“Paws For a Cause called,” Brandon bellows. “You won the guide dog this year!”

“I—what?” bursts from my mouth. My pulse hammers in my chest, and I’m so glad Ryanne went into the mansion instead of lingering out here. I turn in a full circle as Brandon laughs and Momma shushes him. My legs feel like crutches someone has attached to my body, but I manage to walk over to the non-suitcase-holding couch and sit down on it.

“You’re going to get her on January fourth,” Momma says. “They called me this morning, saying you’d won their annual guide dog Christmas gift, and they have the perfect canine for you. I accepted, of course, and?—”

She keeps talking, but my ears have timed out. They’re full, and I can’t take in any more. Yes, I’d known my mom had applied for me to get the guide dog from Paws For a Cause. I never believe in a million years I’d get chosen.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Momma asks. “They offer classes so you can learn how to work with Luna, so there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Luna,” I say. Seems fitting, what with my obsession with space, planets, and the moon.

“Now, I know you’ve taken a bunch of time off to go up to New York,” Momma says, ever pushing ahead. “But we have to go to Michigan the first week of January, so I’m going to text you all the details?—”

“I have them in an email, Ell,” Brandon cuts in over her. “I’ll forward it to you.”

“You’re yelling,” Momma yells at him. “Talking right over me.”

“Well, you don’t need to text him details,” Brandon says. “It’s all in an email.”

I smile, though my stomach still feels like I’ve swallowed boiling battery acid. “I’ll check my email, and I’ll put in to get work off.” I swallow, wondering how I’m going to get down Belgian waffles with strawberries and cream when I can’t even get my saliva down.

If I put in for work off, Ry will want to know why. Suddenly, I have a very loud clock ticking over my head, and I really wish she hadn’t fallen asleep so soon the other night.

Finally, the call ends, and I lower my phone, staring at nothing across from me. “You have to tell her,” I tell myself. “Today, . You’re going to tell her today.”

Not only because she deserves to know as my best friend and girlfriend, but because getting a free guide dog is huge, and Ryanne is the one I want to share this good news with.

I stand and leave the guest house, intending to find her and drag her into the nearest room with a door and just…tell her.

The mansion is once again hopping when I enter it, this time with the scent of bacon, coffee, and butterscotch hanging in the air. You’d think with their proximity to New England, the Lucksons would be bathing in maple syrup, but no. Anna has a recipe for buttermilk syrup, and it’s more butterscotchy than mapley, and I’ve taken four steps toward Ry when she lifts her fork with a bite of dripping-with-buttermilk-syrup waffle.

“Eat this,” she says with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen her wear.

So I take the bite, having her feed me one of the hotter things we’ve done in front of other people. The tangy taste of butter and salt hits my taste buds first, followed by a quick chaser of caramelly sugar. I can’t suppress the moan of delight that lunges out of my throat, and Ry tips her head back and laughs.

“Right? It’s so good.” She cuts off another bite, which she takes, and then she indicates an empty plate sitting on the counter. “There’s lots,” she says around her food. I’m clearly not taking her out of here without causing a scene, which is the last thing I want. So I pick up the plate to get some breakfast, trying very hard not to feel like a coward, or like I’m doing something wrong, or like this is the last time I’ll ever have to tell Ryanne about my vision impairment.

I still have time , I tell myself as I ladle buttermilk syrup over a crispy Belgian waffle, my mouth watering with all the goodness in front of me.

A couple of hours later, breakfast has been cleared, and the instructions for the cookie bake-off about to happen gone over and over. And over. The Lucksons are a fun group, but my word. They need every little detail planned out, or, in Ry’s words, “Danny will cheat,” or “Anna will spin things to her advantage,” or “Dad will change the rules in the middle of the game.”

What’s even funnier is that none of them accused of doing nefarious things even try to defend themselves. It’s like they know who they are, and they don’t deny that they’ve cheated, spun, and changed things in the past.

“So we’ll draw names now,” Grace says, which was also a wrench in the cookie bake-off that Ryanne argued against for a good twenty minutes, all the while eating the leftover bacon until it was gone.

I exchange a look with Ry, because we’d planned to be partners for the bake-off. Apparently, in past years, they’d never drawn names before. I raise my eyebrows, hoping she’ll understand my question. Are we still doing the silly stuff?

She grins and nods, then turns her attention back to her mother as she draws the first name out of a cookie tin covered in gingerbread men. I swear, the lengths this family goes to to Christmasify everything is mind-blowing. “Danny,” she reads, and for some reason, that gets everyone to go, “Ooooh.”

Laughter ensues, and then Danny gets paired with Rob. “Can we forfeit?” Rob asks, and he’s grinning but not kidding.

“No,” Grace says firmly. “We already discussed this.”

And they’d made a rule that couples can’t be paired together, and if they’re drawn, it will have to be redone.

“.” Grace gives me a kind smile, and I return it before glancing nervously around to everyone else in the room. I know I can’t draw Ry, and I don’t know anyone else all that well. Ry and I each have a list of things we’re trying to work into our cookie bake-off; things like one of us singing the chorus from Annie , or faking a fingertip being cut off, or getting one of her pregnant sisters to say, “My word, you’re going to put me in labor.”

After the skunk incident, I’m not sure I’m brave enough to pull out all the silliness card, but then I’ll lose to Ryanne. If there’s anyone you’re willing to lose to, it’s her.

Then my gaze snaps back to Grace as she reads, “Anna.”

My heartbeat tumbles down to my new socks—a lovely, woolly pair from Anna and her husband, in fact—and my gaze flies to Ryanne’s oldest sister. Now, my vision is pretty far from twenty-twenty. I’m the first to admit that. But even I can see the expression of irritation, then distaste, and then how she smooths everything over, meets my eye, and smiles like she’d have picked me over everyone else if given the chance.

Oh, this is going to be so fun.

An hour later, Ryanne has been paired with her mom, we’ve planned world baking domination after we snuck away to the guest house for a quick minute, and now, it’s my and Anna’s turn to “shop” from the pantry for our recipe.

“I still think we should do something tropical ,” I say loudly. Maybe I do have some of Brandon’s yelling capabilities. Who knew? “Like with dates and stuff. Do you think your mom bought any dates ?” I step up to the shelf in the garage, where Grace has set up a series of shelves with a variety of baking goods on them. It’s legit like going to the grocery store, but since it’s Christmas Day, and we don’t have that option, Grace has prepped this “pantry” for us.

“Dates?” Anna says as I wander down the row of ingredients. It’s not exactly warm in the garage, and every pair gets ten minutes to shop for their ingredients. I currently have nothing in my basket, and I can feel the seething displeasure emanating from Anna behind me. “We’re not using dates. We agreed to do Linzer window cookies.”

She steps up to the shelf too and plucks down a box of baking soda. “We need this. Can you grab the almonds? I’m pretty sure I saw them down there.”

I do not see almonds anywhere, and I can’t remember the last time I ate a nut that wasn’t first covered in chocolate and candy coating that only melts in your mouth, not your hand. “Almonds,” I mutter. “Almonds…almonds…almonds.” I pick up a blue bag of nuts, and I lift it closer to my eyes so I can read the words. “Oh, these are walnuts.”

And just like stink on a skunk, Anna is suddenly on top of me. I practically throw the bag of chopped walnuts back onto the wire shelf. “Not walnuts,” she says, swiping up another bag. “Almonds.” She tosses them into my basket but doesn’t back up a single inch.

“That bag of almonds was literally ten inches from your face.”

“I was getting?—”

“You didn’t see them.”

“Yet. I hadn’t seen them yet .”

“You didn’t see the skunks.” Anna comes around me, and all the things Ryanne has told me about how intense she is. How much of a pitbull. If she sinks her teeth into me, I’ll never get away. “You literally picked up a candle last night, thinking it was your drink.” Her eyes search mine, and I see all the dots lining up.

“Anna,” I say, but I don’t know what comes next.

“, can you see?”

I try to turn away, but the shelves are there. Anna’s boxed me in the other way, and I’m now stuck. “I need new glasses.”

“Five minutes,” Grace calls from the doorway which leads into the kitchen. Anna turns toward her, temporarily distracted, and I back up a couple of steps.

The door slams closed, and Anna barks, “.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “What else do we need?”

“Does Ry know it’s this bad?”

I spin to face her, something igniting through me now. “No, okay? Can you drop this, please?”

Anna opens her mouth, then closes it, her eyes wide and only getting wider. “You just need a new prescription.” She’s not asking a question, and I just need someone to know.

I shake my head. “I do get a new prescription every three or four months, but…my vision is going to continue to get worse until I can’t see at all.”

She sucks in a breath, and all the things Ryanne has told me about how dramatic Anna is bloom to life right in front of me. “I’m still trying to figure out how to tell Ryanne,” I whisper. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself until I do.”

The ticking clock in my life booms with every move of the second hand. I’m running out of time, and everything suddenly feels so heavy.

“Of course I will,” Anna whispers, and she does something I never thought she would. She puts her arms around me and hugs me. “I can’t believe Ryanne hasn’t noticed yet, but she’s probably blinded by your charm and good looks.” She pulls back, her smile kind for one, two seconds. Then she takes a deep breath and adds, “Now, come on. We have less than five minutes to get everything.”

She grabs sugar and flour and drops it unceremoniously into the basket. I grunt, and she gives me an eagle-eyed look I’ve seen on Ry’s face plenty of times. “And you’re just going to do everything I say in the kitchen, Mister I-Need-New-Glasses.”

“Oh, come on,” I say. “Haven’t you ever heard that song from Annie ?” I take a deep breath as Anna moves down the shelf, probably looking for salt or vanilla extract. “The sun’ll come out! Tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, they’ll be sun!”

I may be going blind, but I have perfect pitch and the will to win this contest between Ry and I.