Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

24. Will

twenty-four

Will

Three nights before Christmas

The cold interior of the garage was almost a relief to the stifling tension of the van ride home. The only words spoken for the fifteen-minute drive were from Rose as soon as the last door had shut behind her dad. Three whispered syllables swallowed whole as soon as they were uttered, "I'm sorry."

She'd folded in on herself, startling when Lizzy reached across the space between their seats to give her wrist a reassuring squeeze.

Affection too big to be anything but love swelled in my chest. She was steadfast and tender. I was desperate to do right by her. After my short-lived marriage, I knew what it was to be in a toxic situation. I refused to put Lizzy through that, through this , any longer.

Jim hung his keys on the hook at the kitchen door, holding it open for his wife and daughters, and then me.

After depositing our boots on the mat by the door, the five of us paused in the kitchen. Lizzy at her sister's side, me on the other. Their parents had a silent conversation the way two people who knew and understood each other could.

Their family tension was painfully uncomfortable, squeezing at my insides. I could identify the illness, but I didn't have the immunities for it. My peacekeeping efforts wouldn't work here, it wasn't mine to keep.

With clear apprehension, Rose cast her eyes my way. I nodded back, knowing the silent question she asked.

Jim heaved a sigh, but Rose cut him off, her voice reed thin. "I have something to say. It'll make things clearer, but it won't make you think any better of me."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, squeezing her to my side. "Do you want me to say it?"

She shook her head. Wiping her nose on the sleeve of her blazer, she went on, "Bill and I date other people."

Kelly rolled her eyes—the gesture was exactly like her daughters.

"What is this hippy-dippy horseshit?" Jim growled. He pointed a finger at me. "So, you're okay with this, son?"

"We're just friends," Rose tried to explain.

"You and Lawrence?" Kelly demanded.

"No, me and Bill."

But Kelly continued talking as if Rose hadn't spoken. "That boy has been in love with you his entire life. Be with him or leave him alone."

"I tried," Rose said. Tears clung to her eyelashes.

"I want to stay out of your business." Kelly pressed her fingers to her forehead. "But then we catch you with your ex-boyfriend in the high school auditorium. Half the town was there! You're lucky it was us who found you."

"Or what, Mom?" Lizzy spoke up. "She'd ruin her reputation?"

"Lisianthus Marie." Kelly held up a finger in warning.

"Why are you so mad?" Gesturing a hand at me, still hugging Rose to my side, her shoulders rising and falling with shaky breaths. "Will isn’t mad. Look at him. She's trying to talk to you. She's trying to be honest, and you won't listen. Sometimes you make it so hard. Just close your mouth and listen."

For a few moments, the only sounds were Rose's sniffles. She opened her mouth, but then she shut it again. After one more deep breath, she forced out, "Will and I aren't dating. We're just good friends. I lied to you—"

"We lied to you," I confirmed, shame burning my cheeks.

Kelly gripped the fabric of her blouse over her heart. Behind her, Jim took a step back. I had never felt so small.

Lizzy straightened her back. "Me too. I knew too."

Rose let out a watery chuckle that fortified her. "We thought it would help the show. And I needed an excuse to stay away from Lawrence, and you see how well that worked.” Her words grew harsh. “Because I know , Mom."

Kelly blinked at the abrupt switch in Rose's tone.

She went on, "The audacity that you would know him more than me. 'His entire life ,' you don't say."

"Bring it back to the apology," Lizzy suggested, as I muttered, "Sounding less like sorry."

"Right."

"You lied about dating?" Deep furrows lined Jim's forehead.

"Isn't this just something famous people do?" Kelly asked.

"And people trying to be famous, apparently," I grumbled. The idea of telling her parents had been embarrassing, doing it was mortifying.

Rose swiped the heel of her hand across her wet cheeks. "Right, I am sorry."

"Me too." I wished I had a hole to crawl into. "We had it all reasoned out. It wasn't supposed to hurt you."

I resisted the urge to pace, choosing between what would be the right thing to do and how badly I didn't want to do it. Looking over Rose's head, I tried to burn into my memory the shape of Lizzy's lips, and the slope of her neck under the bun of her hair.

You'll see her again . But with the tension in the room too thick to take a normal breath, I couldn't ignore that I might have to fight for the chance.

Steeling myself, I breathed in a deep breath. "I'll find a ticket back to Kansas City."

Jim took in Rose, Lizzy, and then me. I held his eye, unwilling to show any cowardice—I wouldn't add that to the reasons he should hate me.

"To spend Christmas alone?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll be fine."

"No."

Kelly shot him a questioning look.

"That ice storm is rolling in, anyway. They'll be cancelling flights," he said to her, then he nodded once, as if decided. "You did a dumb thing. I don't know exactly what to think right now, but you're probably not a bad person. You might even be a good friend to my daughter—regardless of how hair-brained this whole idea was. You're staying. You're not spending Christmas alone."

I rubbed at the back of my neck. It was generous, more kind than I deserved. I didn't want to leave Rose to deal with the chaos I'd helped create.

Kelly sighed. "He's right, stay."

My gaze flicked to Lizzy, but she looked away as soon as our eyes met. It could be nothing. I could be paranoid reading her cues incorrectly, but my heart skittered.

With a completely unexpected change of subject, Kelly asked. "Who wants a snack?" She turned for the fridge. Then spoke with her face in the open door. "I'm too tuckered out for dinner. I've got half a cheeseball left over from the office party. Lizzy, will you grab the cookies out of the cupboard? Jim, will you get everyone a drink?"

Rose tilted her head, blinking. "Are we just done talking?"

Her mom shrugged, placing a tray on the counter. "I don't know what else to say. This is a lot to think about. But for the first time in so. Many. Years, I have two daughters that like being in the same room. And that makes me want to celebrate Christmas."

In a matter of minutes, we huddled around the counter with cheese, crackers, and cookies. I accepted the beer Jim offered. Anxiety slowly dissipated, releasing the tension in my shoulders. It wasn't gone, but it was better.

Eventually, Rose spoke up, "Can we talk about how sad the orchestra's I'll be Home for Christmas was?"

Lizzy nodded, her eyebrows shooting up. My fingers tingled to wipe away the red icing on the corner of her mouth. Not that I would under the circumstances. Not that it seemed like she'd want that right now.

"I thought it was boring," Jim said.

Kelly accepted the cracker spread with cheese her husband offered. "I didn't know that song could be ten minutes long."

Little by little, they fell into their normal pattern, chatting and playfully picking on each other. I smiled, but I was eager for an opportunity to talk to Lizzy alone. Something had upset her at the school before everything else happened. I wanted to know that she was all right. That we were all right.

After a few minutes, her parents went to the basement to watch Prancer , again. And Rose announced she was going to take a shower. Lizzy wouldn't look at me, her head tipped down. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

Waiting, I let the silence stretch on until I couldn't take it any longer. Until my stomach had turned over too many times and I didn't feel well.

I leaned my elbows on the countertop. "You, okay?"

She shrugged. "Fine."

"You seem like you're not."

She jerked her shoulder again. Brushing the curls around her temple back, she took a drink of her wine.

"Was it just the stress of…everything?" I let the one word describe the Rose and Lawrence situation, and the following conversation with her parents.

She shook her head. She finally looked at me.

My pulse was heavy and sluggish. I saw what was coming while wishing to be wrong, hoping that I could say the right thing. Something that would set her at ease.

She set her glass down with a clink. "Did you see that picture of us?"

"Yeah, but it's not bad. The response seems…kind."

"Does that sort of thing happen often?"

"People recognizing me?"

"Sure, or strangers taking pictures of you and posting them online?"

My stomach churned. "Not often."

She'd gone perfectly still, and I understood the tell for what it was.

"Are you okay? Do you feel unsafe?" I asked.

"No. Nervous would be a better word."

"Why?"

"I just…" she swallowed. "I don't like it. I know it must seem small to you. But my social media is a LinkedIn for my work. I don't…I don't cultivate attention. I don't want it."

"We can keep our relationship quiet, private, just like you said we should. We could be more careful about how we are in public. Rose and I talked earlier about announcing a quote-en-quote breakup sooner rather than later. Lizzy, it doesn't happen often, I promise. You'll see that."

"Unless the show gets picked up."

"Even if that happens, we won't be famous. We'll have a slightly larger group of people who know us, but not a lot."

"I don't know…"

"I'll shield you from it."

"How?" The word was hardly more than air, as if her throat had grown tight.

I clenched my teeth, at a loss.

"It's okay," she sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. "It was exciting while it lasted."

"No, don't talk like that. You know what happens less than a random posting a picture of me?" I waved my hand in the chasm growing between us. But she'd hidden her face. " This . A connection like this. I was drawn to you from the first time I saw you. And it's grown stronger every time since—every time I've kissed you, touched you. This is exceptional. I've never felt it before, and I'll never feel it again."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

It was so obvious. I couldn't believe that I had to say it aloud. "Because there is no other you."

She met my eyes, unshed tears clinging to hers. "I don't know if I can, Will."

"No, Lizzy," I pleaded.

"It's better to stop now. It'll just be harder later."

"It won't. It's already too hard. Come on. This isn't what either of us wants ."

"Wanting something doesn't make it meant to be."

Reaching a hand to her face, I cupped her chin, urging her to meet my gaze. "But we are."

She shook her head and took a step back. It was the wrong direction. All of this was the wrong direction.

Two words laid my once flying hopes to rest. Buried. Dead.

"I can't."