His dimples flex as he frowns in Kresley’s direction. “I guess I’d better brush up on my dating skills.”
“What?” A laugh flutters through me. “Please. She was putting on an act just now. You and I both know she’s a man-eater. And the only man she has an appetite for is Wesley. He’s single.She’ssingle. They’ve hooked up a time or two in the past. You’re good at math. You can figure it out.”
Gage tips his head back as if he were considering this. “No. Wes isn’t going back there. He’s all or nothing with Laken, and it looks as if he’s content with nothing.”
“And you?” My heart aches at what he might say, and I feel foolish because I know what I want to hear.
“I’m not Wes.” Those cobalt peepers of his dust over my features. “And why the hell should you care? You’re where you’re supposed to be. Logan and you are ordained for one another. We were cursed. You’re happily married, and I don’t see why I can’t have the same thing.”
My entire chest bucks at the prospect.
“Oh, I get it.” A wave of relief hits me with the epiphany. “This is another make-Skyla-full-of-rage initiative on your part. Don’t bother. If it didn’t work with Chloe, then there’s no hope for Kres.”
“I don’t care about making you angry, Skyla. I care about making me happy. Why should I dwell on this earth alone? Kresley is a beautiful girl.”
My body slaps with shock when he says it. Instinctively, I know it’s true, but not one part of me appreciated the fact he just verbalized the obvious.
“And what? You’re going to bed her a few times a week? She’s not your type.”
His lips curl because I’m afraid he knows he’s getting a rise out of me.
“She’s exactly my type. And now that I think about it, we make sense. I could see us getting serious, very quickly. We could add children to our brood. Build a life, have a complete family.”
I swallow hard. “Wow, that escalated quickly. So you’re thinking of marrying her just like that?”
“Why not?” he asks with his gaze locked in her direction. “I don’t think she’d object. I’m more than well aware I’m her type.”
“You’d be a stand-in for the true love of her life.”
“I’ve done it before.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and I shake my head in lieu of a laugh.
“No, Gage, you haven’t. I still love you. Chloe loved you. You have never been a stand-in.” A burst of anger rockets through me, and suddenly I want to grab the wooden snowman my mother has tucked near the door and bonk Gage over the head with it.
Christmas carols turn up from seemingly nowhere and “Jingle Bells” plays overhead on blast. The lights on the enormous Christmas tree in the living room seem to be blinking on and off in rhythm to the music, and that coupled with the horrifically loud octave of chatty voices all around makes me want to vomit.
“You can’t just marry Kresley willy-nilly,” I rant. “You’re going to get screwed if you enter into a union with her. She’d just be using you.”
“Maybe I want to get screwed. Maybe I miss it. I’ve got needs, and I’m betting she does, too.”
A horrible groan comes from me and puking feels like a very real possibility.
“Gage.” His name moans from me. “You don’t want this with her. Don’t torment yourself.”
“You mean don’t tormentyou. I’m sorry if it pains you to see me moving on with my life. But you’ve moved on with yours.”
“But I—”
“Don’t bother,” he cuts me off. “Sorry to break it to you. But it’s not all about you, sweetie. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He makes a beeline for Kresley, and I watch in horror as he slips an arm around her waist and the two of them begin to dance to the peppy Christmas ditty that’s making the walls rattle.
Logan comes down with a fresh version of baby Jaxson who he’s changed into his white fuzzy pj’s. Jaxson’s little cheeks are rosy, and he’s all smiles as he claps his hands as if he were trying to keep time with the music.
“Hey, beautiful.” Logan lands a kiss to my lips, and I feel a spark travel all the way to the nexus of my being.
I give Logan’s sweater a tug, the very real need to bawl bubbling below the surface. “Maybe we should ditch this party and head to Whitehorse?”
“I don’t know, I think we should probably brave it out.” He ticks his head toward the hall where Marshall is holding both Nathan and Barron in each of his arms while they beat and pummel him while laughing with glee.
“Unky Marchy!” Barron shouts with a laugh as Logan and I head their way.
