The Calhouns were the best type of people, and nerves fluttered at the thought of being openly with Charlotte. They always treated me well, but would they be okay with me dating their daughter? Being Christian’s childhood best friend was vastly different from dating Charlotte. What if… no. I stopped my thoughts from straying.
Shit. Was it hot in here? I fanned my jacket over my chest, getting some fresh air in there.
“Hayden, son, it’s been too long.” Father Christmas himself, or Mr. Calhoun, approached me with a bear hug. The man grew his beard out after Halloween every year so he looked like Santa by the time the holidays rolled around. His signature green-and-red sweater was paired with overalls and black boots.
He was a damn hoot.
“Great to see you, sir.” I hugged him back. “Thanks for sending over the doll bed for Gwen. She’s going to love it.”
“Of course. She’s our granddaughter at this point.” He rolled his eyes. “My wife promised to buy three outfits for her dolls, but guess how many she bought. Twelve.”
I smiled. “Thank you, she shouldn’t have.”
“The day I try and stop my wife from doing anything, let alone stop spoiling your daughter, is the day my marriage will suffer. I won’t do it. I know my limits. Find me later to play some Ping-Pong. Christian thinks he’s good, but I need some real competition.”
“Of course.”
He left me to tend to the fire, patting his potbelly with pride. Calhoun get-togethers were famous for their smoked meats and desserts, and my mouth watered even thinking about it. Where were my girls?
I found them in the kitchen. Charlotte was helping Gwen put on a cute apron as they stood at the counter with Mrs. Calhoun. There was an assembly line for decorating cookies already. Charlotte booped Gwen on the nose with flour, and that ache in my chest grew. It seemed almost foolish that I had stayed away for three years when Charlotte fit in with my life so well. I scratched my chest, clearing my throat to ease the uncomfortable lump.
“Char, hon, you tell Hayden here about your interview?” her mom said.
“Yeah, we had a chance to talk about it last weekend at the resort.” She smiled at me, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. I knew what that blush meant, and I winked. “We’re going to hit the booster angle and all the ways I’m connected to the community.”
“That’s a genius idea! He’s been such a good coach at the college level. I bet you have so many ideas, don’t you, Coach Porter?” Her mom beamed at me just like she had the last decade. Mrs. Calhoun took anyone into her home and poured love into them.
What would she think about Charlotte and me being together? The ache intensified. If she or Charlotte’s dad didn’t approve, that would gut me. Suddenly, I wished I had worn something nicer. Like a polo and slacks instead of jeans and a sweatshirt. I was probably too sloppy.
“I might’ve asked some hard questions, but the ideas were all Charlotte’s. She’s ready. They won’t know what hit them at that interview.”
Charlotte pointed the icing utensil at me. “You helped me a lot, actually. While everyone else was skiing, we worked on a plan for a program and a way to reach out to boosters. I feel so much more prepared.” She sighed, and a flash of worry crossed her face before she smiled again. “It’s a long shot going against Chad, so I’m going into that interview with the goal of making it the most difficult choice they have ever made in their lives.”
“I didn’t raise no quitter. Not my girl.” Her dad jutted his chin at her and nodded. “You’re gonna kick butt and make Chad regret ever being a butt to you.”
“My friends have butts,” Gwen chimed in, her cute little voice making everyone laugh. “I touch them sometimes.”
“Gwen, we don’t touch others’ butts. That’s in the no-touch zone, remember?” I said, pinching between my brows. “We talked about what no-touch zones are.”
“I know. But it’s fun.”
“She’s not wrong.” Christian glanced up from his game, clearly proud of himself for his remark. That earned him a middle finger from me.
This family. I laughed into my hands, grateful for and amused at being a part of this wonderful madness. Throw in the Christmas decorations in every corner, and this place was straight out of a reality TV show. There was a curated playlist of Mrs. Calhoun’s favorite holiday songs, and no one—not even Santa himself—could adjust the playlist.
Last year, I had parked my ass on the couch and waited for people to approach me. They’d fawn all over Gwen, and I’d laugh and never let my gaze move too far from her. This time? I took it all in. It felt different knowing I was with Charlotte. She and Gwen danced to the song, Gwen laughing loudly as Charlotte spun her in a circle.
My lips tugged into a smile. Charlotte was coming back home with us. I could be patient until then.
“Need a beer, my dude?” Christian put an arm around my shoulders and shook me. Despite me being slightly older, he acted like the older sibling in our relationship.
I shoved him away. “Sure.” A cold drink sounded nice, especially when Charlotte kept looking at me and blushing.
“Oh! Drinks!” Mrs. Calhoun set a bowl of dough down and clapped her hands. “Penny, honey, I bought all the supplies for this peppermint shot thing. My friend Beatrice has been going on about it, and I want to make her jealous. Could we all do one and take a photo?”
“Oh.” Penny stilled as she was midstep toward the hallway. Her already large eyes widened as she quickly glancedat Christian. There was a plea in her expression, and my skin prickled.
She looked worried. Why?
