As if I invoked their names out loud, my mom claps her hands. “Speaking of which, my darlings, I have a big favour to ask of you. Tabby was saying that it might be easier if the boys slept in a room with a door. So I was thinking of putting them in your room. Of course you can sleep there tonight, it’s your space until they arrive. But tomorrow night, would you mind bedding down in the back room?”
The back room, aka a sunroom on the back of the farmhouse that my dad winterized, is a sprawling family room style space where we typically open presents on Christmas morning, because there’s a nice bar where the grownups canhave coffee and breakfast while the heathens—I mean my cousins—tear into all the presents Aunt Tabby will bring for them.
Plus, it has separate couches.
“Sure,” Garrett says at the same time as I say, “We could move in there immediately, in fact.”
“Oh, no, don’t be silly,” my mom laughs. “I won’t make you sleep apart tonight. And you’ve already unpacked.”
“Only me,” I say brightly, about to offer that Garrett could move into the back room immediately when the phone rings.
My mom excuses herself to answer it and Garrett gives me a look across the table.
“Too obvious?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “I’ll sleep on the couch if you want to field the questions about that in the morning.”
I donot.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor, though,” he continues. “You know I’m going to have to be one of the safety monitors on the skating trail tomorrow, and I can’t be stiff for that.”
I narrow my eyes. It’s a reasonable point, but there’s something in the way he’s saying it. “Is this a game of chicken?”
“I’m not afraid to sleep in the same bed as you, Roar.” His expression hasn’t changed, but his voice…that got low. Private.Hot.
I’m staring at him, my cheeks flaming, when my mom comes back. “Eat up, kids. Your dad needs your help with a delivery. Cassie started crying again when your dad told her about it, so…”
“Yeah, sure, I can go,” Garrett offers before quickly shovelling a few more bitesinto his face.
My mom winces. “And she’s crying again, so she probably can’t be left alone at the stall.”
I push my plate in her direction. “Sorry to bail on dishes, then. I’ll go keep her company.”
“Talk to her, please. I’m worried that she’s making a hasty decision.”
“I—” My mouth flaps wordlessly for a second.
“Come on, Roar.” Garrett grabs my hand and tugs me out of my seat. “These trees won’t deliver themselves.”
He hustles me into my coat and shoves a random Little Tree Farm toque on my head.
“I’m not going to tell Cassie that she’s made a mistake,” I snap hotly as soon as we’re outside.
“I didn’t hear your mom say that you should.”
“She called ithasty. You don’t think that’s a loaded term?”
“Yeah, no, you’re right.” He zips up his coat, then unzips it. “It’s not that cold tonight, eh?”
I growl under my breath and stomp faster down the side lane between the house and the public part of the farm.
It’s not cold, actually. The wind that blew us all the way here has died down, and in the stillness, you can hear people skating on the trail that winds along parallel to this lane. Laughing, chasing.
Murmuring.
I trip over my feet as I realize people are doing…something…just on the other side of the thick hedge.
“Keep moving,” Garrett rumbles in my ear as he catches me and propels me forward.
