AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Frowning, I unlock the front door, reminding myself to circle back to the kitchen to close up the garage, although the odds of anyone wanting to steal my strimmer at midnight in December are slim. The air smells different. Slightly floral, but more like wildflowers than roses. Definitely Betsy. I head straight to her room to make sure she’s okay and not sobbing over some boy or other. Not that she’s ever done that, but I’ve been braced for it. She doesn’t have any remaining relatives so I’m her only bolthole. Which I’m happy to be, she’s a sweet girl but I’m ill equipped to offer romantic advice.
I gently press my ear to the door. No sounds of crying. I nudge it open and double check. Her breathing is deep and even causing my shoulders to sag with relief. Whatever it is, I can hear about it over breakfast. Heading to bed, I almost miss the stocking she’d placed on the mantle. We always do presents on Christmas morning so she has days to put anything out. What was on her mind that made her do that first?
Peering at it, I notice the message at the top. So with a frown I assess the contents through the felt, feeling a little silly and reminding me of doing that with far more concentration when I was nine or ten. Whatever is in the stocking appears to be a bunch of the same thing. Or at least the same size and hardness. Still, I’m unclear if ‘now’ means now or some now in the future, so I leave it where it is. Another thing we can discuss over breakfast.
Stripping off in the bathroom for a quick shower before bed, I notice my scars in a new way. Not sure why. Maybe it was North’s questions about why I’m still single — well, as far as he knows, anyway. I certainly wasn’t sacrificing anything by shielding Betsy with my last name. I’m lucky to have all my parts, so you won’t catch me whining. But nobody would pick my lower half for any of those steamy book covers.
Puckered red skin and thin white scars spread from my waist to my knees. I don’t even remember why the other sections of me were spared. Must have been something I was holding or the guy in front of me. The blast is a blank but I read enough of the incident report to know I was the lucky one. But my girlfriend at the time didn’t see it that way — good riddance, really. And I find it’s easier to get off with my hand in the shower than face that look of disgust on another woman’s face. I ignore the flash of Betsy’s dimples in my mind’s eye. She’s never going to see any of this.
Betsy is still asleep when I get up to make coffee in the morning. I remember she’s here just in time and slip on long pants instead of my usual boxers before sleepwalking to the kitchen. It’s Saturday so technically I could sleep in, but I’m beyond curious as to why she arrived early and I’ve got grocery shopping to do now that North is coming to dinner too.
I’m staring at the coffee maker contemplating actually making a list when two slim arms wrap around my middle and squeeze.
“Morning, Bets,” I say softly.
“How’d you know it was me?” She gives me a playful pout after walking in front of me and helping herself to the first cup of coffee.
“Who else would it be?” I respond dryly.
“I dunno. Your sexy hookup you found in the romance aisle at the indie bookstore?” she offers cheekily.
“Bets,” I warn her before she gets started.
She frowns and flicks her long, black hair over her shoulders. My fingers itch to subdue her riotous curls. “You’d tell me if you were involved with anyone, right, Heath?”
I nod cautiously. “Not happening, sweetness. Now, you ready to confess what brought you home two days early? Something wrong at school?”
She shakes her head, her curls flying, partially obscuring her smirk. “Nope. And you’d have more of a clue if you’d opened your stocking last night.”
Shrugging, I eye her from head to toe. Her fuzzy sleepwear shows off more of her figure than it ought to be able to.
“Why don’t you just tell me now?”
“Nope. Let’s go out for pancakes, and then you can open it when we get back. I’ll answer any questions then,” she amends quietly, suddenly looking nervous.
“You don’t want to take it with us?”
“Hell, no!” Her eyes widen in panic.
“Well, go get dressed then. I’m old and impatient,” I remind her, not surprised when she rolls her eyes dramatically.
Betsy
I’m freaking about to lose my nerve. Except I can’t because Ineedto know. I just wish I could foresee Heath’s reaction without Heath actually having to know anything about it. I barely taste my pancakes, even though I’ve been looking forward to these very ones for months. Heath keeps eyeing me speculatively between bites and it’s making my stomach flip over. I know he doesn’t think of me as anything but his best friend’s baby sister. Now. What if I can’t change his mind?
The drive home is quiet. My left knee bounces with nerves, but I keep my eyes trained on the neighborhood Christmas decorations. It all looks pretty much the same as last year, which has a certain charm. Heath purses his lips as we step inside the house. He reaches a long arm over my shoulder and snags the stocking. “Here or in the kitchen?” he asks abruptly.
I ponder that. The kitchen feels more like neutral territory, but the living room is cozier, more intimate. “Kitchen,” I finally sigh. “We might need the table for the diagram.”
His lips twitch. “There’s a diagram?”
“Only if you’re going to be obstinate about things,” I warn, leading the way into the kitchen.
Heath is still grinning when he sits down and lays the stocking on the immaculate surface. He pulls the first brightly colored box out and eyes me quizzically. “Am I supposed to just start opening? No preamble or instructions?”
I sigh and rest my chin on my folded hands. “Just get on with it, Ainsley.”
He does. Quietly and without reaction so I don’t even know which message he opened first because he sets it aside face down and reaches for another box. This time, his eyebrows go up and he stares at me briefly. Was that the one where I informed him I was still a virgin, or the one where I told him I was clueless about relationships and seduction?
