Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

30. Lizzy

thirty

Lizzy

After Christmas

I'd be goddamned if Will didn't fill out a cable-knit sweater like a cozy Greek God. He was all sweet, yet masculine charm with a puppy sleeping in his palm, its head nuzzled on his shoulder. The humane society director, Patricia, had gotten the shots she wanted of Will and Rose. Then she left us to cuddle with the two puppies for as long as we wanted.

"Please, take your time," Patricia said as she waved goodbye. "They need the socialization."

"Well, if they need it," Rose joked.

At the door, Patricia paused. A rare hesitant expression fit onto her face. "It might not be my place to say, but I see how you two make better friends."

With a wink in my direction, she left, closing the door behind her.

Like always, my eyes found Will. He was their favorite thing. A crease pressed between his eyebrows. His lips tilted to one side.

"Did Patricia just give you two her blessing?" Rose asked.

I snorted. "I wasn't asking for it, but I'll take it."

"She's good people."

I nodded. My butt was going numb from sitting on the tile floor, but I also had a sleeping puppy on my lap, and I didn't want to disturb her. She was lying on her back in the valley between my thighs, her paws flopped at her chest. Her little belly rose and fell with even breaths.

"Most people are," Will added.

"Let's not be hasty," I said, as Rose stated, "I'm gonna stop you right there."

We broke into silent laughter. It came to an abrupt stop when the puppy on my lap groaned.

"Maybe we can adopt her." Rose brushed her fingertips on the soft triangle ear. "She could be our show dog. Maybe that would get our show on a streaming service."

She'd remained silent about the midnight visit from Lawrence. Occasionally, I'd catch her with a thousand-yard stare, as if she was considering removing one of her limbs. But she was still laboring under her thoughts alone.

"You think a dog is more enticing than the relationship roller coaster you've put your fans through?" I asked.

"Look at her."

She was a perfect little dog, a black lab mix with a wrinkled nose.

"You make a fine point," I conceded.

"Would you be really disappointed if we didn't get streaming?" Will gently unhooked a mini claw from his sweater.

Rose shrugged, but I suspected that she was faking her nonchalance. "I'd be disappointed. Not, like, crushed. You?"

His eyes shot to me, then to his toes.

Is he concerned about how it would affect me?

"Not crushed."

"I hope you two get it," I said.

"You do?" they asked at the same time.

For a moment, their shock made me feel guilty. Pushing it aside, I looked at them. "Of course I do. It still freaks me out to be…I don't know. Noticed. But I want you to have whatever you want. I'll be okay."

Rose leaned her head on my shoulder. "Thanks."

With the toe of his shoe, Will bopped my boot. He looked at me with his kind green eyes, and I felt like I was the cutest thing in the room.

I was already dreading tomorrow when they'd leave for Kansas City. They hadn't even left yet, but I could feel the hole they'd leave behind. Even if it'd only be for a few weeks.

Moving back home had been fine, in an embarrassing blow to my ego kind of way. I couldn't wait to move again. Rose sent me Pinterest boards of bedroom styles we could do to my new room. Every one of them featuring a desk as the focal point.

"Someplace to show off your stationary collection," she explained. "Why would it be so pretty if you're not going to show it off?"

Why, indeed.

Once, moving had signified the end of my old life. This time, it was a beginning. One where Rose and I could be sisters. One where Will and I could continue to grow this connection between us. Our strange beginning was turning out to be the perfect way for us to start. I had evidence of his kindness and consistency, the lengths he would go for someone he cared for. It made trusting him so easy.

Will and Rose waved over their shoulders as they went through security. Convincing my arms to let him go had been the most challenging thing. Somehow, I'd done it—committing the beat of his heart and his clean scent to something deeper than memory. He was still in eyesight, but I missed him desperately.

Mom hooked an arm around my shoulders. "You two are cute."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Mom."

"Let's go home."

It might have been rude to walk through the airport with my eyes cast down toward my phone, but I pulled it from my pocket, anyway. With the notes app open, I started my packing list. A text came through, and a silly thrill shot through me.

Will: You packing yet?

I sent back a screen shot.

Me: I promised.