Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

11. Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

"Thanks for letting us ride," I said, bumping my cousin Emmett with my shoulder.

"Sure, anytime." He squinted toward Rose and Will, talking and laughing as they strolled to the exit. "What do you think of him?"

My expression remained neutral, even though I was hyper-aware that they had zero chemistry. They acted more like siblings than romantic partners. It was clear that they enjoyed each other's company, but it did not seem like they wanted to sleep together. With my hands tucked into my coat pockets, I shrugged. "He's nice. Why do you ask?"

"He doesn't seem weird with—" Emmett cut himself off to say instead, "to you?"

Did he actually say 'with'?

"He's been," I kicked a divot in the floor with the toe of my boot, "very nice. Good house guest. All of that."

"They just don't seem really into each other."

I was still struggling to think over the anxious voices in my head, when he continued, "But then, maybe this is healthier for her."

"Than the way she is with Lawrence?"

Emmett nodded. Only a couple of years older than me and Rose he'd always been much more observant and mature. It wasn't surprising that he'd noticed the dynamic between her and Will, or between me and Will.

"It's probably good that she and this new boyfriend are obviously…friends."

"Friends can become more, right?" It was as close to convincing as I could muster.

"I guess so. It just usually happens before they start dating."

The pit of my stomach grew heavy. It was one thing to lie to my parents. They didn't seem suspicious, but Emmett had always looked out for me. When people turned mean back when Rose and I had our falling out, he stood up for me. And throughout the entire day he hadn't mentioned that it was strange for the two of us to hang out.

I sighed, hating the words I had to say next. Not just because he was my favorite cousin, but also because not so deep down—kinda right at the surface—I wanted Will for myself.

"Rose and Lawrence…are intense."

Emmett lifted an eyebrow.

I went on, beginning to see parallel lines between their situation and mine. "When they're in the same room, it's like they can't tell anyone else is even there. But she's not manic with Will. I think you're right. I think it is healthier."

"I hope so. Anyway, you liking him speaks highly."

The weight in my stomach turned leaden.

He glanced around the empty arena. The only other person in the building was his business partner, Missy. But she was up in her office with the door closed. "I know a lot of people are over Lawrence and Rose's drama—"

"—Mostly Shay," I interrupted.

A rare smile split his lips. "Mostly Shay. But I've always rooted for them."

My eyebrows pinched together. "Are you a romantic?"

"Does that make me one?"

"It might."

He lifted his shoulders and let them fall. "Then maybe."

Rocking Around the Christmas Tree carried through the closed doors of the KC Hall. A group of my parents' employees stood huddled just outside, smoke and steam around their mouths glowing red from their cigarettes. The smell of nicotine burned in the frosty night. I jerked my head in hello before snaking inside the warm building. With a shiver, I shrugged out of my coat in the coat room and hung it on a wooden hanger that was probably older than me. I had to really throw my shoulder into parting everyone else's winter wear to make room for mine to fit.

My palms ran over the soft wool of my ugly Christmas sweater. Shay had made it required attire for the office party—considering I'd just walked past a man with the words 'I'd Rather be Wearing a Welding Mask' knitted across his chest, I thought she was on to something.

Just like at home and the shop, Mom had pulled no punches on the decorating. Unlike home, she'd skipped the traditional cozy feel and gone for a 70s look. Complete with a white tree decked in red garland and lights with shiny silver bulbs. The only green in the banquet hall was on the sweaters worn by the attendees. The room was lit in technicolor from the twinkle lights blanketing the drop ceiling. In the corner, perfectly wrapped presents were topped with extravagant bows. She'd even constructed a temporary fireplace with a television playing a burning log mounted inside of it. Another TV hung above the bar playing Prancer . Mom always claimed it was mine and Rose's favorite, but it didn’t explain her obsession with the movie.

I rolled my eyes as affection warmed my chest. At least Mom still loved her work.

My gaze tugged to my left, landing on Will, as if compelled. Was it possible that I'd felt the pull of his eyes on me? That from across a dark room full of people, I'd been drawn to the heat of his stare?

Everyone else faded, the music quieted, until it was just us.

It was a pale comparison to the greeting I wanted—this prolonged eye contact. My heart swelled and broke all at once. In a few days he'd leave, and I wouldn't have to resist my feelings any longer. But in it's place would be his absence.

I wasn't sure which was worse.

"Hey girl." Shay bumped me with her elbow, popping the bubble.

I blinked, my mouth hanging open, gathering myself. "Uh, hi."

She took in Will standing next to Rose, his arm wrapped around her waist. My cheeks burned.

Apprehension filled the dark pools of Shay's eyes, and something else that looked a lot like pity. "You're still about that? Even with all the red flags?"

"There are a lot of green flags, too." There was no denying my argument was pathetic.

She pursed her lips.

"I know you don't like it," I said.

"No, I don't."

I tugged on the neck of my sweater, feeling entirely too hot. "There's just something there. It's…new to me."

It was the biggest understatement. As if the pull between the two of us was because of how fresh it was.

What if it is? I swallowed, ignoring that nagging voice.

"Fine." She pointed toward the buffet table. "You hungry? The charcuterie board is my romantic interest tonight."

I grinned, grateful she'd let me off the hook for now. "Food would be great. We went to Emmett's today, and I kinda forgot to eat."

"Mm," she took a step, her heeled boot clipping on the floor, "how's my future husband doing?"

I scoffed. The list of men she planned to marry was long—not as long as the list of men she'd rather never see again. But my beloved cousin was not her one true love or anything.

I glanced around, ensuring that we were the only two people near the food table. "He's annoyingly observant."

"He saw through the whole thing?"

"Maybe." Perusing the spread of cured meats, fruits, and crackers, I grabbed a plate from the stack. "I think I smoothed it over for them, though."

"That must be weird, with how you feel about him ."

"It's no big deal."

"Right," she said, the word dripping with sarcasm. Her focus moved past my shoulder, and she groaned. "Will you excuse me? I need to remind Lawrence to blink when he stares at your sister."

It didn't take me long to spot Lawrence sitting on a bar stool, with one boot propped on the rung. He was amongst his socializing coworkers. But his eyes were, in fact, trained across the room where Rose stood with Will at her side.

The longing etched into Lawrence's features—his covetous gaze, the tight set of his jaw, the pinch between his eyebrows—felt like he'd held up a mirror for me to peer into.

It had always scared me how consumed Rose and Lawrence were with one another. My emotions for Will were stronger than I'd felt for anyone else. I had to believe that we could be different. We could burn without exploding, without decimating ourselves and singeing everyone around us.

Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

Even if the white wine glass in Mom's hand wasn't there, I would have been able to tell she had already drunk a couple from the pink in her cheeks. The sour smell of it was on her breath as she gave me a one-armed hug. Lowering to the metal chair next to me, she crossed her legs. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Mom." I gestured to the room with a chocolate-covered strawberry. "You transformed the KC Hall, yet again."

She lifted her chin. "It's a skill."

"It really is. Having fun?"

"I always have such a good time at these parties." A couple of her words slurred together. It didn't happen often, but she was a sloppy and happy drunk. "What about you?"

"I haven't been here that long, and I'm driving, so I'll probably keep it to one drink." I pointed to my half full white wine.

"Your dad and I can give you a ride home."

"If that ice storm rolls in early tomorrow, I don't want my car stuck here."

"Oh baby, it's not coming for another 48-hours. And who cares if your car is here? It's no big deal."

"They'll have to plow the parking lot. I don't want it to get buried."

She stacked a cracker with Parmesan cheese and salami from my plate. "You worry too much."

"You're right, I'll just stop that."

"Good." Plopping the cracker in her mouth, she considered me. After swallowing, she said, "You and Rose are spending more time together.”

I didn’t want to get hers, or my, hopes up, not when I knew how badly she wanted us to be best friends again. But I had to face the possibility that Rose might go back to Kansas City and not talk to me again until Thanksgiving. So, I gave Mom a noncommittal shrug.

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you think of Will?"

That I'm entirely too into him.

Hell, earlier today, I'd swooned like a regency romance heroine who'd never touched a man. All because he'd helped me brush a horse . I had traced a scar cut through the knuckle on his third finger. The white line was stark against his work-worn skin. When, in fact, I'd already had Will inside of me. I'd moaned and begged, wanton and hungry.

I found him at Rose's side. Our eyes met—we blinked and looked away.

"He seems really nice." My voice came out a little too high. I cleared my throat. "What do you think?"

"He's a nice man…” she turned her head toward Lawrence still nursing a beer and stealing glances of Rose. “I wish she wouldn't flaunt him in front of Lawrence, though."

My chair creaked as I sat up straight. " Flaunt him? That's a bit much. Is she supposed to not let her boyfriend touch her to spare her ex's feelings? Which he might not feel anything about."

He did. He definitely did, but that wasn't the point.

It was strange to defend my sister's right to receive the affection I desperately wished was for me.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't."

"I feel bad for Lawrence. He's been pining for her for so long, and she just floats in and out of his life."

Rubbing circles at the joint of my jaw, I exhaled before saying, "He is responsible for himself."

"Feelings get complicated."

"Doesn't change anything."

"You've always been so practical, and sometimes romance isn't practical."

"Mom, I have experienced romance."

"But have you ever been swept away?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes, which made her groan and roll her eyes.

"Some day, Lizzy, I hope you know what it is to be overpowered by your feelings for someone. To be illogical for someone."

Oh, the irony .

She turned her face to the ceiling as if she might find patience to deal with me up there. "Your sister might not be doing anything wrong, but she hasn't been doing the right thing by him for a while."

She'd uttered some version of these words throughout the years. The worst part was, I did understand her point. But the only people who knew the complete story were Rose and Lawrence, so who were we to judge?

"It's none of your business, Mom."

"I'm not saying it is." She held her hands up, one palm out, her other hand still held her wine, the contents sloshing dangerously close to the top. "I'm just saying that I empathize with Lawry."

"I think you're being unfair. He's just as responsible as she is."

"I never said he wasn't."

"But you feel bad for him? But not for her?"

"How do you think your sister would feel if the roles were reversed?"

I spoke in hushed tones, my irritation making my words string tightly together. "I would think a little relieved."

"That's the stu—“she pinched her lips together before correcting herself"—silliest thing I've ever heard."

My mouth hung open for a moment. "Were you going to say stupid?"

"No," Mom cringed, "yes, but I caught myself."

I snorted.

I couldn't explain why it was funny, but we both started laughing. She asked how horseback riding went, and we left the subject of my sister and her love life alone.

Mitchell Williams spotted me before I spotted him. Avoiding him had been my main extra-curricular in high school. I was clearly out of practice because he swung his heavy arm across my shoulders. Beer spilled from his plastic cup and barely missed the toe of my boot.

It was late enough in the night that voices had raised in volume, and everything was a bit funnier than it had been a few beers ago. I was still sober but enjoying myself. Or I had been about four seconds ago.

He spoke directly to my breasts. "Lizzy, you've got a hot kindergarten teacher thing goin'."

With as little enthusiasm as I felt, I said, "Crayons on sweaters really do it for you?"

His grin took on a lascivious edge. "When they're on you."

"Avert your gaze."

"You always have something smart to say."

"Wish I could say the same."

"I hear you're finally single."

"Single doesn't mean interested, Mitchell." I tried to shrug out from under his arm, but he pulled me in tighter.

I shot him my most haughty, threatening glare. Considering how often he'd been on the receiving end, he was impervious. If I had known it only took a boyfriend to keep Mitchell from acting like a jackass, I would have lied about having one, too. "Get your arm off of me."

"We could be good, you know."

Will appeared in front of us. He had moved so quickly that I hadn't even noticed him coming. "Hey, man. I'm Will."

Mitchell tilted his head dumbly but didn't let me go to shake the hand extended to him. "I thought you were Bill."

"It's Will." There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, contrasting the big smile on his face. Under the tangled strings of Christmas lights, they appeared black. They darkened when he saw the frustration on my face. He jerked his still waiting hand. "You gonna leave me hanging?"

The pressure on my shoulders lifted, and I took one big step away. I was at equal parts relieved and irritated. What kind of bullshit was it that Mitchell would listen to a man, but not me?

Dick.

Shaking Will's hand, Mitchell introduced himself.

But when he went to retrieve his hand, Will didn't let go. His knuckles whitened from the force of his grip. His smile twisted into something menacing. With a voice lower and more threatening than I would have thought he was capable of, he said, "You're gonna keep this paw off of her."

I decided the thrill his protectiveness sent through me didn't deserve criticism.

"The fuck?" Mitchell pulled at his hand again. He was a little shorter than Will, and I could see Mitchell assessing the outcome of a physical fight. It didn't look good for him.

"Don't touch her again."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

"Why does he have to do anything?" I demanded, my arms crossed. "I want you to leave me alone."

Mitchell opened his mouth, but I cut him off, "Look, I'm your bosses' daughter. They wouldn't like to hear about this. You wanna keep your job?"

"That's fucked up."

I had to force my words through clenched teeth. "What's fucked up is ignoring what a woman wants."

He looked like he wanted to call me a name or two, but took in the warning written into every inch of Will—his weight on the balls of his feet, the bunch of his shoulders, and the watchfulness of his eyes. For the first time in his life, Mitchell did the smart thing and moved back. His hand, finally freed from Will's grip, was red.

Will turned his profile to me, watching the other man retreat. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and I resisted the urge to kiss him there. I was more than capable of taking care of myself, but having him watch out for me… He was making it hard to manage how much I liked him and perpetuating his and Rose's story.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Thanks."

He shook his head.

Crossing my arms, I tore my eyes from the stern set of his brow. "You know I would have handled him, right?"

"Of course. I didn't like the look on your face when he had you like that, though." He rocked back on his heels. "Is it okay that I intervened?"

I nodded. "It sped the process up."

We considered each other for a moment. There was so much distance between us, and I just wanted to close it. The yearning was a physical ache. A deprivation pressed into the cavities of my heart.

"I like your shirt," he finally said.

I grinned. "What a perfectly acceptable way to say that."

His eyebrows pinched together, but I shook my head. Glancing down at the red and green crayons stacked on top of each other to make a Christmas tree, I said, "Thank you. I love the snowflake pushpins."

"It's cute."

"I like yours too."

He grabbed the hem and looked down like he had forgotten what he was wearing. The sweater was knit to look like a red and green flannel with fake buttons and all. "It's pretty cool, right?"

I giggled. "Cool, that's the word I'd use."

"No?" He smiled his winsome smile, drawing me into his warmth.

"Bill, right?"

I jumped, forgetting other people were nearby.

"That's me." Will's usual grin fit back onto his face, directing it toward one of my parents' supervisors. This time when he shook the man's hand, it was friendly and not at all like he might tear the stranger apart.

The man pointed the mouth of his beer toward Will. "You do good work."

"Thank you," he said, but he glanced my way.

It's okay , I mouthed, taking a step back and turning. Behind me, I heard the man say, "There was a tray ceiling you did a couple months ago. Great truss work."

I'd seen people in town chat with Rose about the show over the past couple of years, but I had figured it was because she was from here. To see the excitement on people's faces to talk to Will, a stranger, was a little off-putting.

Mariah Carey sang All I Want for Christmas through the speakers, and I sighed wondering if it was possible for me to reserve a little part of Will for myself when everyone wanted his Bill persona too.