“Did you tell Matt?” Gracie asked.
She shook her head. “What can he do, honey? Other than think I’m a lunatic.”
“He could understand that it’s troubling you,” she said, and even as she did, she felt the words hit her hard. She had to talk to Marshall, too. He needed to know what was troubling her, just like Matt did.
“I guess,” her mother said. “But I’ve been avoiding it.”
“You shouldn’t,” Gracie said, as much to herself as to MJ. “If you can’t have hard conversations, are you really a couple?”
MJ gave a wistful smile, then looked past Gracie, her brows rising. “Look at that,” she whispered so softly, Gracie barely heard her.
She followed her mother’s gaze, landing on Elise. Wade stood next to her, a possessive and warm hand on her shoulder as he explained to Matt how “they” had performed eye surgery on Shambles.
“Love is in the air,” Gracie said under her breath.
“And so’s the sheep dung.” Bianca walked right up between them, holding out her phone. “Can you get a family shot of the Hamptons, Grace?”
She didn’t know what irritated her more, being called Grace—a sin only her ex committed—or being asked to photographtheHamptons.
“One of the goats is eating Grandpa’s beard!” Benny shouted from a stall a few feet away.
“I gotta see!” Olivia started running that way, but Bianca snagged her jacket.
“Not yet. We’re getting a family photo. Marsh?” She latched onto his sleeve.
Turning, he tugged at Kat’s leash. “You get one with Olivia. I’ve got the dog.”
“We’ll get one with the dog,” she said, drawing all of them together toward the back wall. “Oh, this is rustic. Get a few shots, Grace,” she ordered. “Make them Instagram-worthy, please.”
Marshall gave her a look that was openly apologetic. “If you don’t?—”
“It’s fine,” Gracie assured him.
“A family picture,” Bianca added brightly. “Me, Marshall, and Olivia. And Dog.”
“Her name’s Kat,” Olivia said, making a face.
“Wait. Wait.” Bianca looked behind her. “Too rustic. In fact, I hate this wall.” She glowered at the weathered slats of the barn wall as though they offended her. “No, this won’t do. Let’s go back by the Nativity scene. With the star. Come on.”
Marshall sighed. “Bianca, I don’t think?—”
“Please.” Bianca grabbed Marshall and tugged him away. “It’s Christmas Eve. One quick picture. For Olivia’s scrapbook.”
“I don’t evenhavea scrapbook,” Olivia muttered.
All the while, Gracie stood there holding the woman’s phone, feeling like an employee. But she followed Marshall’s lead as he demonstrated class and the ability to smooth over any situation.
They walked back out to the Nativity scene, though Marshall’s shoulders were stiff as two boards. Olivia trudged after them, clearly annoyed. Benny ignored the whole thing, still obsessed with the beard-eating goat.
Swallowing the metallic taste of discomfort, Gracie mentally vowed not to be territorial. She wasn’t going to be the insecure girlfriend. She wouldn’t give Bianca even one ounce of satisfaction.
She lifted the phone. “Okay…smile.”
Marshall attempted something that resembled a polite smile. Olivia tried, but there was a hint of her signature eyeroll in the shot. Bianca beamed as though posing for a magazine cover—chin lifted, jacket suddenly open and sliding down one shoulder, a hand on Marshall’s arm like she owned him.
Gracie framed the shot just as a text popped up at the top of the screen.
She tried not to read it, she really did. But there it was, from Tara, center of Bianca’s phone screen.
