Chapter 15
~ Braden ~
What game is Sammie playing?
I stalk out of the guest room to get some fresh air. There are too many bodies inside the small space, and I can’t think with all the hubbub of singing, shouting, and laughing rebounding throughout my brain.
The reason I left home was my mother’s death, but the reason I stayed away is precisely this. My father was supposed to be a grieving widower, and Jolene was supposed to be a grieving widow. Instead of grieving, they merged families and proceeded to fake their way through the following year.
I still cringe when I see the pictures on the walls and over the mantel showing how much fun they had—ski trips, Christmas cruises, Christmas on horseback, and even a Hawaiian vacation or two with a decked-out tree on the beach.
Wisely, Grandpa refused to speak to Dad for years until he forgave him several years back after having his first heart attack. Whatever happened to the saying that it’s either a heart attack or cancer but not both?
I pull on my coat and stomp out into the wooden porch. My breath steams in the frigid air, and the glistening icicles and shiny frost are as invigorating as Sammie is infuriating.
She’s screwing up the Elfprentice thing by latching onto Will. While they’re tangling tongues and jockeying under the mistletoe, dear ten-year-old Abbie could walk away with Christmas cottage. After all, ten is still a child, and she still believes in Santa Claus.
The solid wooden door thumps behind me, and I groan as my least favorite “in-law,” Lindsay Greene, follows me. She’s not unattractive, despite her straight hair, lack of makeup, and dowdy clothes—favoring flannel shirts and mom jeans. Flashing green eyes, honey-colored hair, and a smoothly tanned face could be more inviting if she smiled more instead of frowning.
Oh well, she’s definitely cornered me, and it’s my fault for separating myself from the herd.
“Nice weather. What happened to the storm?” I drawl in an indifferent manner.
“It kind of petered out last night.” She swings a leg over the porch rail and parks herself to face me. “Heard another storm front’s coming the day after Christmas.”
“You’re not wearing a costume, why not?” I avert my gaze from her disquieting stare while pretending to watch for a cloud. Now would be a good time to start smoking so I could have an excuse for hanging out on the porch while blowing smoke in her face.
“My kids get into the entire Christmas thing.” She quirks her lips as if she’s amused. “Me? Not so much. And you?”
“Been away from home so long I forgot how into it they get.” I’m still staring off into the distance.
“Must have been a shock to be pulled back to all of this.” She waves her hand and accidentally swipes my chest. “Oops. I haven’t even started drinking. Sorry.”
I step away from her touch. “Doubt they have alcohol in this house. Is it true they’re super religious?”
“The Brants are,” Lindsay says. “Your brothers, not so much. You want to join me for a nightcap, we have to sneak out toward where the old outhouse used to be.”
I squinch my nostrils. “I’m not that hard up.”
She rolls her head back and laughs, full and throaty.
Okay, so maybe I’m hard up, since silly Sammie is slipping into jailbait mode, and I’m frustrated like a devil without horns.
“You don’t look happy.” Lindsay digs into her pocket and comes up empty. “Dang. Now would be the time for a smoke.”
“You trying to quit?”
She fumbles in her vest and flips out a pack of gum, offering me one. “Yep. Among other things.”
“Thanks.” Suddenly, it occurs to me I don’t know a thing about her—how long she’s dated my brother, what her story is with the kids, and what she hopes to get out of the Powers family. She’s obviously not hanging around for the Christmas festivities.
“You and Nash.” I fix my gaze on her eyes to detect any tells. “Any wedding bells soon?”
“Pffuh!” She huffs and the gum goes flying from her lips. She claps her hand over her mouth and shakes her head while her eyes flicker with an expression I can’t place.
I’m usually good at reading people. Have to be, given what I do for a living, but this one is a mystery.
“Okay…” I take the packet of gum that’s half sticking out of her vest pocket and peel her another stick. “If you need any help getting my footloose brother to commit…”
