Or maybe he'd just show her.
Either way, Grant was done pretending this was temporary. Done pretending he could let her go when the holidays ended.
Riley had said she didn't know if she could stay. But Grant was going to do everything in his power to give her a reason to.
Starting tomorrow.
NINETEEN
Riley
Christmas morning at the Monroe house was controlled chaos, as always.
Riley woke to the sound of her nephews thundering down the stairs at what her phone informed her was six forty-seven in the morning. She groaned, pulled a pillow over her head, and tried to remember why she'd agreed to sleep in her childhood bedroom instead of getting a hotel.
Then she heard her mother's laugh from downstairs, warm and familiar, and remembered.
This. She'd missed this.
By seven-thirty, the entire family was crowded in the living room in various states of consciousness. Her dad was making coffee in the kitchen, the machine gurgling and hissing like it did every Christmas morning. Her mom was trying to organize the present distribution with the efficiency of a military operation, sorting wrapped packages into piles according to some system only she understood. The kids were vibrating with barely contained excitement, whispering loudly to each other about what might be in the biggest boxes.
Riley found herself wedged on the couch between Lily and Tyler, watching the chaos unfold with a cup of coffee and a sense of contentment she hadn't felt in years.
Her dad's coffee was too strong, the way it always was on Christmas. The living room was too warm from the fireplace and too many bodies crammed into one space. Jake was already trying to peek at name tags while his little brother informed everyone loudly that Santa had definitely come because the cookies were gone.
It was perfect.
"You're smiling," Lily observed, nudging Riley's shoulder.
"Am I not allowed to smile?"
"You're allowed. It's just unusual for you on Christmas morning. Usually you're grumpy until at least noon."
"I've matured."
"You're thinking about Grant."
Riley felt her face heat. "I'm not?—"
"You absolutely are. You have that look."
"What look?"
"That 'I'm going to see my boyfriend in a few hours and I can barely stand the wait' look." Lily grinned. "It's cute. Nauseating, but cute."
"I hate you."
"You love me." Lily leaned her head on Riley's shoulder. "For what it's worth, I like him. He's good for you."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true. You're different when he's around. Lighter. Like you're not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders for once."
Riley didn't know what to say to that, so she just squeezed Lily's hand and turned her attention back to the present opening.
Her mother had a system—youngest to oldest, one gift at a time, with everyone watching to admire each present. It took forever and Riley loved every second of it. She loved watching Jake's face when he opened the Lego set he'd been begging for. Loved her dad's terrible jokes about the socks he got from every family member, as if it was the first time anyone had ever given him socks for Christmas. Loved her mom's happy tears when Lily gave her a photo album of the grandkids with a note that said "For the best Grandma in the world."
When it was Riley's turn, she opened a box from her parents to find a beautiful wool scarf in deep blue, soft as clouds.
