Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

9. Will

Two nights before Christmas

The storm had grounded all flights coming and going from west and central Michigan. It was just a matter of time before the weather hit Flint and Detroit shutting down their airports. So, even if I wanted to take the risk of the drive across the state, I'd just be trapped there instead of here.

Which I was still considering.

The only reason I was lying on my back in the spare bedroom while feeling sorry for myself. Instead of driving through the ice storm while feeling sorry for myself, was because ice storms were dangerous, and the rental car had barely adequate tires. Ice pinged against the windowpane above my head. Irritatingly enough, it reminded me of the first night I'd met Lizzy.

The sudden dark of the bar, my hand on her waist to balance her. My first glimpse of her dimples when she smiled. Her slow thawing like a reward forgetting to know her.

How had we met only a few days ago? How was I in such a sad state after only a handful of moments?

Because being with her feels like electricity.

I groaned and scraped a hand across my face. I wished, again, for something to do. A task to keep my hands busy. A nail to hammer. Something to turn my brain quiet. The familiar satisfaction of creating something—of a job done.

Then, as if conjured, the high-pitched buzz of a power tool brought me sitting straight on the bed. My feet were on the carpet and moving toward the closed door before I realized what I was doing. Stepping into the hallway, a mixture of hope and anxiety surged through me at the possibility of finding myself face-to-face with Lizzy.

Her door was closed.

Rose and Kelly were in the kitchen wearing flour covered aprons. The oven heated the room. The scent of their cookies baking was a manifestation of Christmas.

Except for Lizzy missing from this adorable tableau.

I hated to think that it might be my fault that she wasn't spending time with her family. It twisted my gut to imagine her in her bedroom feeling as terrible as I did. My only recourse was to leave her alone.

The corners of Kelly's lips turned down, and she nodded at her daughter with appreciation. "Goodness, you called that."

I lifted an eyebrow at Rose.

She shrugged. "I told Mom the drill would get you out of the room."

"And then you were here." Kelly gestured toward me with two giant oven mitts covering her hands. "Jim's in the garage."

I hadn't seen much of him since the conversation from the day before. It was possible my existence still irritated him. It was for sure that I was uncomfortable around him…but the power tools .

I shoved my fists in my pockets. "Do you think he'd mind if I helped?"

"He'll appreciate the help," Kelly answered with confidence.

I didn't believe her, but the prospect of doing something was too great to turn down. The whiz of the drill started again, and I followed it like a siren's call.

The minivan was parked in one of the garage stalls, the other acted as a woodworking shop. He hunched over a board suspended on work horses. To his credit, instead of rolling his eyes when he saw me, he jerked his chin in welcome. I closed the kitchen door behind me. The scent of wood shavings and motor oil were even more comforting than the cookies. I swung my arms, my hands hitting my thighs with a smack, unsure of what body language would be correct in this instance. At least his attention had returned to the two planks of wood he was screwing together.

"What do ya got goin' here?" I asked.

"A bookshelf for a friend's grandkid."

"Nice…" I nodded, more bobble head like than human. "Can I help?"

He grunted in what seemed like affirmation.

Though he had it in hand on his own, I folded myself into his task. For a few minutes we didn't speak—just passed tools back and forth. When we started adding the shelves, he asked, "You've never dated my daughter?"

My shoulders fell. The silence had been too good to last. "No, Rose and I have always just been good friends."

"Why? Don't you think she's beautiful?"

"Of course she is." My tongue grew a few sizes too large in my mouth, and I struggled not to jumble my words together. "It's just never been there."

"What hasn't?"

"Attraction, I guess."

He made a huh sound in the back of this throat. Speaking with his eyes on his work, he started, "I'm gonna ask a blunt question."

Trepidation tangled my stomach in knots. "Okay…"

"What are your feelings for Lizzy?"

Oh shit.

I leaned a hip against the workbench. Crossing my arms, I searched for the best way to explain. How much should I say? What should I say? He waited in patient silence.

"We met the night before I got here." I searched every corner of my brain for the words to explain to him while also keeping my foot securely out of my mouth. "I like her a lot. More than I've liked anyone in a long time."

He paused in his task, his brow furrowed.

"I thought…we could…" I tried to continue, but my convoluted thoughts were unintelligible and half-formed explanations. "Date."

It was such an inadequate word for what I thought Lizzy and I could be. What else was I supposed to say to her dad?

Well, Jim, after just a few days of knowing your daughter, Lizzy, I want to devote the rest of them to her. But she doesn’t want the same.

"Anyway, last night she told me she's not interested in a relationship because of how public my life is."

His jaw set, and a line formed between his thick pale eyebrows.

I scraped my palm along my jaw. "I don't even blame her. It's gotten kinda crazy." Heat warmed my cheeks. "I've…It's as if, in chasing a modicum of fame and fortune, I've lost some sense of myself. Lately, my choices have been embarrassing at best. I am not exactly inspiring confidence at the moment."

"Would you give up the show for her?"

"Honestly, I'm questioning if I want it."

Jim fixed me with a glare. "You better figure out what you want or you're going to break both of my girls' hearts. Rose wants this show, and Lizzy clearly sees something in you."

The urge to ask him what he meant by that was hard to ignore, but he didn't seem like he'd be willing to explain. And asking would make me look desperate—which I was. But hopefully, he didn't know that.

"I understand," I said.

He grunted, setting back to the task at hand. "Sounds like you got a lot to think about."

I did.

We went back to assembling the bookshelf while not speaking. The quiet was a relief when my thoughts were so loud.

Lizzy

Two nights before Christmas

"The coast is clear. Open your door," Rose said instead of knocking.

I leaned forward to set my laptop on my bedside table, my muscles, and joints stiff from sitting with terrible posture against my headboard. With awkward rigid steps, I crossed my room.

She held a plate on the other side of the door piled high with chocolate chip and snickerdoodle cookies. For hours, enticing smells had seeped into my room, just like it did every year. I'd considered going into the garage to help Dad, but then I heard Will heading that way.

Instead, I watched Christmas specials of my favorite TV shows and texted Shay. She relayed that Lawrence was more withdrawn than usual. I'd had to tell her what had happened the day before. Rose was lucky there was a storm keeping Shay at her parents. But she wasn't holding back her angry texts. I didn't stop her. She was protective. With Rose and Lawrence's past, she had reason to be.

God only knew the hell Shay was giving him.

Rose and I were healing our relationship. But it was still clear, she didn't know what she was doing. I didn't understand why she wouldn't be with him. They seemed like they were still in love.

But then, I could see myself loving Will and I'd taken a step back.

Doing scary things was hard.

"Cookie?" She held the plate directly under my nose. As if I could have said no.

I peeked down the hall around her shoulder. "How do you feel about grabbing a glass of milk?"

"Thermos under my arm."

I moved to make room for her to enter. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her eyes swept over the periwinkle walls and bedroom furniture I'd chosen in high school. Including my desk with my color coated sticky notes and pens. "So, your taste is the same."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm here temporarily."

"I guess I could have a time capsule room if I'd stayed closer to home too."

"Would you want one?" The cookie was still warm when I picked it up off the plate. The chocolate dripped in my mouth.

"No."

"Me either."

She snorted. "Then why are you here?"

"Do you know these people don't charge rent? They make me call them Mom and Dad, but free-living, are you kidding me?"

It was so good to make her laugh. It had been a weird week of emotional ups and downs. But in all of that, this had happened. My heart was more broken than it should have been. Yet my sister was bringing me cookies and laughing at my jokes. Ups and downs.

"That sounds pretty good." She picked up a snickerdoodle and held out her hand for me to pass the thermos of milk. "How long do you think you'll live here?"

"I'm not sure. My business is doing okay, actually."

"That's outstanding!" She beamed at me with crumbs at the corners of her mouth. "I was so impressed when I heard you were doing this. It takes guts."

"It was a big change."

"I wasn't disappointed to hear your ex wouldn't be around."

"I always wondered if you hated him."

"Kinda. He just never seemed to realize how cool you are."

"You think I'm cool?"

"The coolest." She nodded to the floor. Neither of us could look at one another with so much subtext. I was about to change the subject when she blurted, "I'm sorry."

My jaw slackened. "What?"

"For…the past eight years—"

"That wasn't just you," I said, but she kept going.

"—for not telling you I was thinking of schools out of state. For making you out to be a…loser." She turned her head, looking right into my eyes. "You're not. I was so angry, and jealous of anyone who got to hang out with you. And I took it out on you. I'm really sorry."

The tender wounds of my heart were a little less painful under the salve of her words. "I'm sorry too. I wish I had been less selfish and more understanding. I get it now, how you needed to grow without me."

She made a hmm sound. "I don't want to grow alone anymore."

It felt corny, and sentimental to wrap my arms around her shoulders. To lean into her hug for the healing nature of it. I gave her support just as much as I received hers.

Pulling away, we both wiped fingertips under our eyes and laughed.

I jerked my head toward my laptop. "I was just about to watch the New Girl episode where they yell at the rich neighborhood and Nick misses his flight."

"Turn on the lights!" she quoted.

"Yes, exactly!"

She scooted back on the bed in a similar position I'd just been in, leaving room for me to sit next to her. "Can we watch the one with all the Christmas parties after?"

"The one where Winston might still believe in Santa?"

"Yes!"

We were halfway through the first episode—the plate of cookies devoured—when Dad and Will's voice carried from the kitchen to my room. I couldn't make out what they were talking about, but just the sound of Will's voice was enough to make my chest ache and my blood to heat.

"You, okay?" Rose asked.

I nodded, even though I didn't feel okay.

She paused the show. "You wanna tell me your side?"

I made a disgusted sound. Setting my laptop on the mattress by our feet, I shifted to face her. "So, Will and I had discussed dating privately when you two are done with…you know."

She rolled her eyes and nodded.

"I thought I could get past, like, how public your lives are. Or I just kinda assumed I wouldn't be interesting. But that photo of us shopping..."

"Gotcha. I can see how that violates your privacy. You don't even have an Insta do you? I can never find you when I look."

"You look for me?"

"Of course. I mean, Mom and Dad give me updates, but they only know what parents know. They don't know you like Shay does. They don't know you the way I want to know you. So, I look for you sometimes just to get a different glimpse of your life."

A sad smile tilted my lips. "I had to force myself to stop checking your profiles. It wasn't easy."

"I get it."

"Anyway, that photo freaked me out. You know what I'm like. I hate attention, especially from strangers. I was all wrapped up in weird anxiety and then I told him I wasn't even willing to try a relationship. Which sucks even more because he's here for the next week and a half."

"He looked for flights, but the storm."

I flinched. A dull ache started at the base of my skull. "He's leaving?"

"He was thinking about it. Would you be disappointed if he did?"

“Probably."

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I would."

"Do you wanna talk to him?"

"I don't know if I should." If only the answer could be the simple yes, I wanted it to be, but it wasn't. "I was so uncomfortable, and I just wanted to hide."

She chewed on her lower lip. "It just sucks, because it doesn't happen often. But one time was enough for you, I get that. It just amps up when things happen. We announced our relationship, so there are more eyes on us. When we breakup, it's going to happen. If you two announce you're dating—"

"If you get the show," I interjected.

" If we get the show," she conceded. "That's a big if . You're still my sister. It might happen when you're with me."

"That's a good point." The prospect of the two of us just hanging out filled me with so much joy.

"Speaking of…" She crossed her legs to her side, angling herself in my direction. "I have something I want you to think about."

"Okay…"

Her words fell out as if they were running downhill. "I have a spare room, and I want you to move into it."

"You do?" My grin was so big.

"I've really liked this. I don't want to pause reconnecting. You said living here was temporary, anyway. If you just pay for your own food, and your expenses. I'll cover everything else. You won't even have to call me Mom and Dad."

I snorted. It was surreal. A week ago, I would have felt grateful just to have her acknowledge my existence. I could never have expected this. "Okay, I'll move in with you."

Her smile was all teeth. It reminded me of our childhood Christmas mornings. "You don't want to think about it or anything?"

"No."

"Well, good."

"Good." I pictured what living with her would be like—spending time together, learning about each other again, fighting like sisters. I felt good. Right.

Even if I might be included in the friendly fire of fan’s photos. I wouldn't trade the chance to have her in my life for that.

A thought took shape, startling in its clarity. Fear gripped my sternum. I wanted to hide from it. But I wouldn't.

Rose considered me out of the corner of her eye. "You look glum. Did you change your mind already?"

"No," I grumbled, then rolled my eyes.

"I have an idea," I heaved a heavy sigh. "And I hate it."