And for her, that’s true.
“I want to know how you made yours snow,” Mom says.
Mine and Dane’s ended up being his family’s old snowman holding hands with my family’s old elf while snow swirls around inside. Simple, but no one else has blowing snow.
“Engineering secret,” Dane says with a wink. “But if you want me to sneak into the warehouse and do it to yours, too, I can.”
“Don’t touch my snow globe,” Grandma says.
Mom sighs.
Then she slides a glance at Grandma before turning back to Dane. “Are you going to make your family’s snow globe have snow?”
“If they ask me to. They’re not entirely happy with me right now, though, so I don’t know that they’d ask much of me.”
The truth of that statement hits me in the heart, and I impulsively lean over and kiss his cheek.
And instantly regret it.
His cheeks are rough with stubble and he smells like the best parts of a summer night on the lake.
His gaze flickers to me, warm and kind, and kissing his cheek doesn’t seem like nearly enough.
I want more.
I want so much more.
“At least we’ll have each other,” I say to him.
“And me,” Mom says. “I can’t imagine abandoning my daughter simply because she fell in love with someone I wouldn’t have picked for her. It’s your life, honey. I support you. Even when you’re marrying into a whole family of serial killers.”
Grandma’s jaw works back and forth while she watches all of us.
You canfeelthe way she doesn’t want to react the same way asthose damn Silvers, but she also doesn’t want to have to be related to one.
“Who’s invited to your wedding?” Grandma asks.
“The entire town,” I answer without hesitation.
That’s the point, right? For the whole town to see a Silver marry an Anderson. Plus, I don’t think we could keep them out even if we tried.
Except we’re not getting married.
No matter how pretty that ring looks on my finger.
I jerk my hand back under the table as I realize I’ve been fiddling with it subconsciously for I don’t even know how long.
That keeps happening today.
“My dad offered to officiate,” Dane tells me. “He’s an ordained minister.”
“Oh, because he got a certificate off of the internet?” Grandma scoffs.
“Yeah, a few years ago, his best friend was getting married. First time. In his fifties. Pete’s bride got really sick, and she was in the hospital, and they didn’t think she was going to make it, so Dad got ordained to help them tie the knot ASAP.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper as I catch myself fiddling with my ringagain. “My heart.”
“She pulled through,” he tells me. “Dad did their wedding again when she was back on her feet. Really nice ceremony. He’ll do a good job for us too.”
