That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe (Abieville Love Stories #4)

Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Three

So I just spent an entire night holding the woman of my dreams, and now I want to call my mom.

That’s weird, right?

Yeah. Probably.

Super-weird, at least on the surface. But hear me out. These past twelve hours with Sara weren’t like when we got stuck in the storage room. Or when we ended up sleeping together on that one small couch. For one thing there was no grandfather clock chiming at us every half hour. But that’s not the real point.

The difference between every other moment Sara and I have been together since she returned to Abieville was the connection. What I’m feeling for her is no longer based on the great memories from years ago. And it’s not about how beautiful she still is. Although—no exaggeration—she’s basically a goddess in my eyes. But now that I’ve seen who Sara’s become, I can’t believe I was ever strong enough to let her walk away from me.

Scratch that. I pushed her away.

But as hard as that was back then—and how hard it stayed for a long time—I think we’re both feeling now like that might’ve been the best thing for us.

The first time around, Sara and I were just having summer fun. We had days on the lake and bonfires at night. We had ice cream and the hots for each other.

(That’s what my dad called it anyway. The hots . I gave him a lot of grief for that, but he wasn’t wrong.)

Of course Sara was already smart and funny back then. And kind. Beyond gorgeous. That’s an objective fact. So yes, we definitely had chemistry, and man, over those four summers, I fell hard for her. But only as hard as any kid can when he doesn’t know much about himself yet.

Make no mistake. This isn’t about age. Plenty of people can and do find the loves of their lives when they’re young. My parents met at Abieville Elementary, and fifty years later, they’re still going strong.

But for me, not fighting for Sara back then—or defending my family to the Hathaways—was strictly because I hadn’t proved my worthiness to myself yet. The disapproval I gauged in her mom and dad’s voice started in my own head first. I had no idea what the future held for me. I wasn’t ready to stake claim to a specific career. To support a woman. To be a man.

Then there was Sara, six months younger than me, and already so clear about what she wanted. Not just to go on to become an attorney someday, but to make her parents proud. She always felt like their happiness was her responsibility. And I get why she’d believe that. Their miracle baby. Only child. She was a gift from day one, and kept on giving.

So I hope she’s starting to realize she’s her own person too. She can make choices that bring her happiness without worrying about her dad’s legacy or whether her mom will be disappointed.

My parents never pushed me to work hard for anyone but myself. They weren’t in a hurry to see me climb any ladder beyond the lifeguard stand. They always saw Abieville as a town worth building a life in. At whatever pace suits you. So they always had faith in me.

And that’s exactly why I need to call my mom.

Because this morning, Ryan Detweiler approved the Hathaway’s home for Platinum Stays, and ever since Sara dropped me off to head back to the city, I’ve been pacing the floors wanting nothing more than to be with her again.

Come on, man. You want to be with her always .

I huff out a breath, laughing at myself. Sara spent little more than an hour here for her birthday yesterday, but my house already feels empty without her. The man I am now is more committed and determined than I’ve ever been, but there’s a gaping hole in my gut when she’s gone.

No one but Sara can fill that space with the belief that we can make anything work if we want it badly enough. She had that faith ten years ago when I didn’t. Now it’s my turn to show her I believe in us.

Please answer. Please answer. Please answer .

“Three!” My mother’s smile lights up the screen. There’s an elf hat perched on her head, and a small crowd is lining up on the pool deck behind her.

“Hey, Mom.” A grin takes over my face. “Am I interrupting?”

“Interrupting?” She glances over her shoulder then snaps her gaze back to me. “Oh, no. The cruise director is just about to start an ugly Christmas sweater contest.”

I fake a gasp. “You didn’t enter?”

“I refused on principle.” She moves away from the pool deck, pushing through a swinging door into what looks to be a hallway. “I think all Christmas-themed clothes are beautiful.” She tsks. “You know I always skip Aunt Elaine’s ugly sweater competition.”

“I do know that.” I bob my head, and a wave of happiness rises in me, buoyed by the familiarity of tradition. Home. Family. “Man, I miss you guys.”

“We miss you, too, Three. Very much.”

“Oh, really?” I cock a brow. “Because according to Nella and Ford, you all have been muddling through with mai tais and couples’ massages.”

“Well, in your message you basically demanded that we have a great time.” She tilts her head and her elf hat almost slips off. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“So that’s what we’re doing.” She smiles primly, readjusting her hat. “Christmas isn’t the same without you, but a Hawaiian cruise isn’t like any other holiday we’ve ever had, either. This experience is all brand new for us, so you aren’t really missing our usual holiday. Those traditions live up here.” She points at her head. “And here.” She points at her heart.

“You’re right about that.”

She wags her brow. “I’m right about everything.”

“Yes, you are.” My eyes sting at the corners, and I think about popcorn garland on the tree, and cinnamon and nutmeg simmering on the stove. Sara tried to recreate my family’s Christmas for me, but maybe I’m ready for some brand-new experiences too.

With her.

“So.” My mother peers closer at me, her eyes roaming my face. “How are you holding up there? When Ford told us about what happened, I’ll admit I was a little concerned. Of course he assured me you were in good hands, and I knew he wouldn’t have left you if he didn’t believe you were physically safe. But I wasn’t so much worried about the concussion. You’ve had those before. I was more worried about … Well, you know. Your being with Sara.”

“We’re good, Mom.” A fresh smile creeps across my face. “Really good. In fact, that’s kind of why I called.”

“I see.” Her brow lifts. “Do tell.”

“The thing is, Sara and I. Well. We’ve …” I pause for a beat because saying the words out loud—especially to my mom—makes everything more real. “We’ve … sort of reconnected.” I swallow against the dryness in my throat. “I mean we’ve definitely reconnected. And she’s even more amazing than I remembered. Which is saying a lot, because I already thought she was pretty great. But she’s generous and kind. Beautiful and smart. And I’m … I’m falling for her, Mom.”

My mother lays a hand over her heart, but she doesn’t say a word.

“I know from the outside, this may seem like I’m moving too fast,” I continue, “but Sara and I already have four years of history, and I feel like I owe it to myself—to both of us—to try to make things work with her now.”

“Ah.” My mom dips her chin. “So you want to try?”

“Yes.” My stomach lurches, and I can’t help clenching my teeth. Is this my mother’s way of saying she doesn’t approve? Sara and I went through this ten years ago, and her parents’ opinions came between us. But I won’t let anyone else’s doubt control my actions again. “You think that’s a bad idea?”

My mom’s gaze sweeps over me, appraising. “I’m not sure what you heard me say, Three, but I simply asked you a question. You told me you want to try to make things work with Sara. So now I’m wondering why you don’t just make things work with her.”

A sliver of awareness pierces my gut. I guess I have a habit of jumping to conclusions without getting clarity first. “You have a point.”

“Of course I do.” My mom’s mouth quirks. “I’m right about everything, remember?”

“There’s just one problem,” I say. “I can be willing to do whatever it takes to make things work on my end, but I can’t force Sara. She has to want it too.”

“Obviously.” My mother pauses as a pack of cruisers in sweaters and Santa hats bursts through the doors. She waves at them as they pass, then she turns her attention back to me. “So, what do you think? Does Sara want a relationship with you?”

I consider the question. “I really hurt her back then,” I admit. “And I wouldn’t blame her if she had trouble trusting me again. But we’ve been through a lot these past few days—more than I can get into right now—and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way I do.”

“Which is what?”

“That I never fully got over us. In fact, I don’t think I even tried.”

“Well, I’m well aware of that , dear.” My mother lets out a long sigh. “You and your sister and your long-term pining.”

I cringe. “Must be hard to watch us, huh?”

“Not really.” Her mouth tips up on one corner. “I’ve always believed the right thing will happen at the right time. For both you and Nella. And if Carver Townsend is right for your sister, I trust they’ll end up together too.” She breaks into a smile now. “Like you and Sara.”

“Thanks, Mom.” My heart swells with this reminder of her faith. “You’re making it a whole lot easier for me to consider going all in on a relationship with her.” I take a beat. “But she’s about to accept a full-time position at her dad’s law firm.”

“Hathaway Cooke?”

I bite back a grimace. “Working there has been the end game she’s worked for her entire life. So I can’t ask her to give that up to move here, which means …” My voice finally trails off.

“ You might be moving.”

“More than might be , I think.”

“Aww.” My mother’s smile is warm. “Don’t look so glum. The train can take your father and me right to the city to visit you.”

“But the train takes even longer than the drive. And the drive isn’t short.”

“So we won’t come visit you every day,” she says. “Don’t you worry about us, Three, as long as you feel like you could be happy someplace other than Abieville.”

“I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else,” I say. “But I don’t want to live without Sara.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear, son.” My mother grins. “Go get your girl.”