It hits me then—how easy gratitude can sound when the person you’re thanking never expected to hear it. For the first time all day, my chest doesn’t feel quite so heavy. Both hands drop to the table, palm down as his jaw drops.
“Holy jingle bells. Did McKenna ‘Jack Frost’ Monroe just saythank you?” He pulls a hand to his chest as he continues. “Maybe I should go buy a few lottery tickets.”
I am not proud of the giggle his words elicit, but it’s clear that he is.
“Stop being dramatic,” I mumble before taking another sauce-covered bite. “The kids loved their presents. The real question is why Reece ‘Santa Claus’ Taylor doesn’t have any decorations on his tree,” I say, eyebrow raised. “You going bare this year?”
“I always wrap the important gifts, Kenna,” he says before pulling his lower lip between his teeth.
“The tree, doofus.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I haven’t had time to get the ornaments out. Besides, I wasn’t planning on anyone else being around here since the Flynn brothers have taken over holiday meals and my sister may as well be superglued to Noah.”
“You feel left out.”
“Do not.”
“Do too. That’s the real reason you agreed to all of this. You’re lonely.”
His eyes flick up, daring me to keep pushing. I do, because that’s our thing. We argue until one of us smiles, until the air between us feels a little less sharp. “You can admit it,” I tease. “Mr. Big-Bad-Farmhand just wants someone to bake him cookies.”
“Only if they’ve got extra frosting.”
“Gross.”
“Honest.”
We trade grins, and for a second, it feels like the old rhythm we used to have before everything got complicated.
“For once, can you just let it lie?”
“Yeah, sure, if you’re willing to return the favor and pretend the tears you saw earlier never existed,” I say as I gather our trash and start cleaning up.
“Mmm, no can do, Blue. The only person allowed to get you worked up like that is me. I am your personal annoyance.”
“Joy.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love this.”
“Love what?”
“Whatever this is we’re doing. Whatever we’ve been doing since college. Sneaking around behind Jett’s back, fighting with each other, purposely setting each other off.”
“Reece.”
“McKenna.” He steps closer, his arms coming around me to rest against the sink. As he brushes his calloused fingers along my cheek, a tiny spark in me hopes he’ll kiss me again. Instead, he sighs and backs away. “Take the bed. I’ll sleep in my recliner.”
“I’m not taking your bed. I can manage the couch for a few nights.”
“Can’t have the princess sleeping on a lumpy pile of springs, and you’d never fall asleep in the recliner even if I let you. Besides, you can pay me back by helping with the carriage rides tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?”
He is already strolling out of the house. “We leave at six. Sleep tight!”
I stare at the closed door, half annoyed, half amused, wondering when Reece Taylor learned how to disarm me with six words and a grin.
Chapter 5
