I Really Can’t Stay (A.R.’s Holiday Standalones #1)

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

“ A re you sure you can’t stay longer? Christmas dinner will be at about two,” Tina tries to persuade as she hugs me tight, gripping the back of my shoulders in her embrace.

“I really can’t stay, Tina. But thank you for the invitation. Yesterday and this morning were wonderful.”

When she releases me, I fight against tears. This goodbye feels bittersweet—like when you drop a loved one off at the airport, unsure of when the next visit will be. It hurts, but you’ll carry the memories from your time with them until you see them again.

Tina’s hand drops to mine, and she squeezes it in a motherly way as she smiles at me, obviously attempting to cheer me up.

“Well, kiddo, it was so nice to meet you.” Tim pushes his way past his wife and envelops me into a giant bear hug. His arms are warm as he gives me a squeeze, then, as he steps back, the cold threatens to swallow me whole.

I shiver and turn to Lincoln, who’s standing just a few steps away, watching me say goodbye to his parents.

“Thank you again,” I tell them, swiping away a tear. “For everything. Truly.”

Lincoln puts his arm around me and guides me to the car. He opens my door, then turns our bodies so his back is to his family, concealing me from view. Leaning down, he speaks by my ear, so it looks like we’re sharing a kiss.

“I owe you one, Holly North.”

“No, you don’t. Thank you for sharing your family with me. Even if it was under false pretenses, it’s because of you all that I actually got to enjoy the holiday.”

He gives me a weak smile, knowing I won’t say more. Nodding, he brings me to his chest and hugs me tight. “Get home safe, and please, let's stay in contact. I’d really like to be your friend.”

A sob lodges in my throat, but I try to hold myself together. My voice is small as I choke out, “I will,” then pull away from his arms and sink into my driver's seat.

Lincoln closes my door for me, and I crank the key in the ignition, turning the heater on full blast as the engine comes to life.

The tears start to fall before I’ve even made it back to the main road. As I pull away from the Stokes’ house, my heart feels like there’s a brick tied around it.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see Tim and Tina watching me leave as they hold each other around the waist. Lincoln and Miller seem to be arguing about something on the porch—Lincoln gestures toward my car, but I have to force myself to pry my eyes away and refocus on the road as Miller's gaze follows Lincoln’s outstretched hand.

This is so stupid. They’re not my family.

But it almost feels as though in the last twenty-four hours I’ve become a part of theirs.

I’m delusional , I think to myself.

With the GPS secured on my dashboard screen, I grab my cell phone and pull up Genesis’ number while keeping my eye on the road.

“Hey!” she answers on the second ring. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Gen!” My tone is brighter than I’m feeling, especially when I pass by the Ryan Family Tree Farm. My heart sinks and lodges in my throat, which doesn’t even make sense. “How’s Potato?”

“He was just fine. Didn’t even come out of the room until I went to find him, then he realized I was there to feed him.”

“Sounds about right.” I make a right-hand turn onto the main road, and it immediately winds me out of town.

“His collar is so cute! You’re lucky it wouldn’t fit on Pebbles or I would have stolen it.” Pebbles is her Great Dane, and possibly the laziest dog I've ever met. If Potato didn’t hate other animals, I bet they’d be two peas in a pod.

“You could try! It’d probably fit her. Potato has a big ol’ neck.”

“Wait, Potato has a neck? I couldn’t tell. He looks like one big ball of fluff.”

We’re both laughing, which helps pull me from my sadness a little, but I’m still not really in the mood for chitchat, so I opt to end the call. “Hey, listen. I’m on my way home, but I wanted to check in. The roads are super icy, though, so I should probably hang up. Thanks again for feeding him this morning. Do you work this week? We can catch up then?”

“You made the schedule, Zee! I’ll see you tomorrow, and you know I’m always happy to help with Potato. Drive carefully!”

My finger hovers over the ‘End Call’ button on my dash screen as I tell her, “Thank you, see you then.” Ending the call, the Christmas music returns through my speakers with the lovely sound of the group, Pentatonix.

I’m obsessed with them, so I turn it up and start singing along.

The roads are clear, so the drive is relatively easy—hardly any other cars pass me—so imagine my surprise when, from my rearview mirror, I see a truck come barreling around a turn.

For the second time in twenty minutes, my heart sinks. Gripping the steering wheel like a granny, I keep my eyes firmly on the road while holding my breath, waiting for the inevitable moment where the driver crosses into the other lane and blows past me.

But it doesn’t happen.

Looking into my rearview mirror, I find the truck entirely too close for comfort.

Then I see the driver.

“Oh, hell!” What’s Miller doing?

Speeding up, I put some distance between our vehicles, but he quickly closes it.

This freaking guy.

He signals for me to pull over, but I ignore him and return my attention to the road, driving another couple of miles before looking into my mirror again.

When I do, he gives me the same signal.

Up ahead, I see a turn out, so I let off the gas and activate my turn signal before guiding my car off the road.

Unsurprisingly, Miller does the same.

Turning my car off, I yank the keys from the ignition and toss open my door. As I step out of the vehicle, Miller gets out of his and starts toward me.

“What are you doing?” My voice is shaking, but I’m not scared. I’m annoyed.

It’s freaking cold out here, and I shiver, having shrugged out of my jacket when I cranked the heater before leaving the Stokes’.

Miller doesn’t look cold, though. His black and red flannel looks warm and cozy, and he seems unphased as he smirks. “Following you home.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not going to let you spend Christmas alone, Elizabeth.”

“How do you know I’m spending it alone?” My breath catches.

“Are you?”

Kicking a lump of snow, I look down at the ground. “Yes.”

Miller takes a couple of steps closer to me. “Well, you’re not anymore.”

Meeting his gaze, I search for the catch. The angle. The game he’s obviously playing.

“Why do you care?” I try to give him an attitude to mask the wild beating of my heart that’s making me want to spring into tears.

A car zooms past, startling me, and I gasp. Miller takes another step closer, positioning himself between me and the road.

“I don’t know. But I do,” he says with a husky voice, his eyes dipping to my mouth. Without thinking, I lick my lips.

“You shouldn’t. Go back to your family, Miller.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He takes another step closer until we’re toe to toe. Inside of my chest, my heart hammers so violently, I’m convinced he can hear it.

Reaching his hand up, he tangles it in my hair, cupping the base of my head. “I’m exactly where I want to be.” The air grows thick around us, hard to breathe, despite being outside. Then, the world stands still when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Inhaling, words swirl through my mind, but nothing forms as a response. I forget how to speak, all sense of the English language gone out the window.

His other hand floats up to the side of my cheek, his knuckles brushing against my skin. “Elizabeth, can I kiss you?” he repeats, his voice as strangled as my heart feels.

My brain is screaming yes , but instead of a three letter, single syllable word, I somehow end up saying, “Why would you want to kiss me?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, and a rush of arousal flashes through me, warming my core. “This time, give me an answer. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment before every kiss where a woman’s heart seems to do acrobatics in her chest, flip-flopping with excitement as the anticipation builds right before it happens. Right now is no different. The way Miller looks at me sends my heart ice-skating around my chest. His smile sends shockwaves through my system in little bouts of tingles radiating through each nerve.

I want to pull him close and push him away.

Then his lips are on mine.

The kiss starts slow at first, the warmth of his skin penetrates the coldness of mine, and I feel him smile against me before his lips begin to move, coaxing my mouth to open and allow him access.

Naturally, my arms lift to wrap around his neck, and he takes that opportunity to pull me closer, moving one arm around my waist while the other stays firmly in my hair.

Melting in his arms, I let him take full control as our tongues meet, but the moment they do, he pulls away.

His eyes have darkened, yet still sparkle as he slowly releases me. “Well, damn.”

I want more—I want his mouth on mine again.

But then another car speeds by and reminds me we’re literally standing on the side of the road.

Stupidly, I breathe, “So now that you’ve gotten your kiss, are you going back home?”

Why must you open your mouth, Zee?

Miller laughs and kisses my forehead. “Not a chance, Snow Angel. Come on, get back in the car and let’s get you warm again.”

Funny, I don’t feel cold anymore.

“Okay,” I agree pliantly, letting him steer me back to my driver's side door. “Then what?”

Wow, how did one kiss render me completely stupid?

“Then you’ll give me your address in case we get separated, and I’ll follow you home for Christmas.”

“You’re actually coming back with me?”

“I told you I was.” Miller smiles with that same lopsided smile and I’m pretty sure I melt into a pile of goo against my fabric seats.

Bending at the waist, he reaches in and grabs ahold of my seatbelt, buckling it for me.

“Text it to me,” he commands, knocking on the top of my car twice before stepping away.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Yes, you do. I texted it to you before we got out.”

Backing away, he watches me the entire time until he makes it back to his truck. Shutting my car door, I grab my phone and look at it, seeing that he did, in fact, send me a message.

Hi

Typing my address quickly, I press send, then toss the phone onto the seat next to me, like it will physically hurt me if I don’t get it out of my hand.

Blowing out a shaky breath, I turn the key, letting the engine roar to life.

It’s going to be a long way home knowing the lumber snack is following me.

I wonder what Potato will think.