“Hey, don’t.”
Piper’s brother stepped in front of Kol. He’d avoided the man most of the day, failing to befriend him but not for lack of trying. Kol tightened his jaw and stood straighter, meeting the combative gaze.
“What’s wrong?” called Piper, dodging one of her cousin’s toys flying through the air and hopping over the tangled string of lights.
Presley snatched the ornament from Kol’s hand so quickly it was like he had his own magic. He handed it off to Piper.
“Oh.” Her worried brow softened as she cupped her hands around the ceramic piece, a cardinal in flight on a red ribbon.
“Piper hangs that one,” grunted Presley.
Kol thought he should be annoyed at yet another tradition that somehow fell on the woman’s shoulders, but he was too taken with how Piper’s eyes had gone glassy.
“It’s all right, he didn’t know,” she said in quiet defense of Kol, and then she pushed between the both of them and stepped up to the tree. Piper stood under where she hung the ornament for a long moment, eyes wide and round, then quickly turned to the rest of the room. “Who wants leftover lasagna?”
7
Seven Seconds in The Transcendental Plane
There were enough MacLeans that diverting them off whatever topic they’d chosen wasn’t a challenge. Aunt Deb was the only holdout when Kol was that topic, but Piper diabolically used her own father to throw in her aunt’s crosshairs, and once she reminded them of the Great Ham Versus Turkey Debate, the two defended their positions on the best Christmas meat and couldn’t be distracted.
With her lasagnas finally eaten and the house looking positively festive, Piper took a break in the kitchen to scrub the soaking pans.
“When does it end?” Kol leaned against the island like he’d been doing a week’s worth of back-breaking work.
“After today, there are just ten more.” When he rolled his eyes, she huffed, drying off her hands. “What, do you not like Christmas or something?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, my boyfriendwouldlike Christmas because IloveChristmas, so you do now.” She plucked her planner off the counter and unfolded the hand-drawn calendar stuck to the inside. “It’s not so bad as long as we stick to the schedule.”
“You have a schedule?” Kol fell onto a stool, squinting at the script all over the pages.
“How else would anybody have any fun? It’s simple; most of the events are a given, like setting up the decorations today or the night we go toA Christmas Carolor when Michaela comes to visit, and then I just plan everything else around those dates and work in some time for prep and clean up and normal chores too—those don’t stop just because everyone is visiting. In fact, they’re usually worse with everyone here.”
She braced the book on the counter and braced herself as he reached for the page to flip it. The next few pages were her mother’s, but he was gentle enough with the corners of the crumpled and stained recipes. “You sure like to cook, huh? Oh, and not just that, you’re like a stalker.”
Piper clicked her tongue when he flipped the next pages with more aplomb, looking far too amused at what she’d written.
“You’ve got details on everybody—this might be even better than my thaumatix. Holden’s allergic to peanuts, Aunt Mindy doesn’t do shellfish or pineapple, Aunt Susan and Uncle Russ can’t be allowed to talk politics—yeah, no shit, I could have told you that—and no one’s supposed to bring up Formula One with Luis?”
“That’s not what it says.” She pointed. “If you have at least an hour to spare, then you can bring it up. He can talk your ear off about circuit maps, so be forewarned since you especially have a lot to lose.”
Kol smirked, and she thought it was at her joke, but then he tapped the next page. “When did you do this?” He’d found the new page she added with his own name. Though it really wasn’t drawn out neater or more decorative than any of her other pages, she still felt a little heat in her face at the care she’d taken to make it look nice. Beneath, she’d jotted:elf, dangerous, sleeps in his socks, lives in a tree?And then a few blanks to be filled in about his favorite things.
“This morning.” She snapped the whole planner shut and squeezed it to her chest. “I mean, you’re here, so I need to keep track of you too.”
“Well, my name’s not spelled with a C, and only one of those things is completely true.” He crossed his arms looking particularly sure of himself. “And who has a favorite smell?”
“Most people,” she snapped, hating that he was making her feel embarrassed for being thorough. “Look, I only wrote those things out of habit because I do it for everybody else—it’s how I get them gifts and keep them from being total menaces while they’re here—but you’re more than welcome to keep your preferences to yourself because I don’t really care, I just need to pretend like I do.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job, Pipsqueak.” Despite dripping with sarcasm, Kol’s grin made Piper’s heart flutter like she was sixteen and he’d just asked her to homecoming.
Oh, damn it, you stop that, she thought, not sure if she meant him or herself, and she grimaced, tucking away her planner in its special drawer. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and start taking the empty totes back to the basement?”
He eyed her, and she hoped he might tell her to fuck off so she could be properly angry with him, but then he stood, saluted her, and sauntered back out to the hall where the work was waiting for him. Piper made her way back to the living room to sit on an ottoman beside her grandmother. The fireplace crackled in the room’s corner, and soft, jazzy music was playing on the old turntable, probably Aunt Mindy’s doing since she had the best taste of the lot of them, but it figured since she had married in.
In the cabin’s hollow, the setting sun was already blotted out by the trees, but the room would be awash in rainbow lights as soon as her father and Uncle Russ finished replacing the rogue broken bulb.
