I run through my mental checklist for what I packed. Nope, can’t think of anything I might be missing. Oh well, if it comes down to it, I’m sure we can run out to a store if I’m desperate for something.
“Need anything else before we hit the road?” Oliver turns on the car but doesn’t put it in drive. Instead, he leans over and puts a hand on my knee, stilling it from bouncing up and down. I’ve been doing my best not to let my nerves show. I even got up early and went for a run, hoping it would burn off some of my energy. Apparently, it didn’t work.
“Nope, I think you packed enough for five road trips,” I tease. The blush returns to his face, and I can’t help but grin. I love the way he responds to me. So often he’s unflappable, it’s nice to know that I get to him. Even if I’m not quite sure what that means yet.
I get myself situated in the passenger seat, arranging two water bottles in the cup holders and storing the snacks between my feet.
As soon as we’re on the highway, Oliver hands his phone over to me and tells me to pick something for us to listen to. It’s a big job, one he’s trusting me with. It’s a long enough drive that something like a podcast seems like a good choice, a way to help kill time. I scroll through the ones he subscribes to and grin. They’re so very Oliver, a strange mix of true crime and cozy baking that shouldn’t go together.
“How aboutFlour & Felonies?”
“Oh, yes! There’s an episode that just dropped yesterday where they’re talking about Bûche de Noël.”
I have no idea what he just said, but I do know that I would listen to someone talk about it all day if it made Oliver happy.
“Welcome toFlour & Felonies. In today’s episode, we’re going to climb up a little toadstool to see if we can discover what’s at the heart of one of my favorite holiday specialties, the Bûche de Noël, while also talking about one of my favorite Christmas capers, the Yule Log Looters. I’m Skye, and this isFlour & Felonies.”
This is the opposite of my usual listens. I have plenty of news podcasts, but nothing that’s this sweet and fluffy. By the look on Oliver’s face, he’s in love with it.
Thirty minutes later, I still have no idea what a Bûche de Noël is, but I know I want one. I’m tempted to ask Oliver if there’s a bakery near his parents’ place that might sell them. I wouldn’t mind picking up one or… ten? God, how many cakeswould be needed to keep that many people fed? By my count, about twenty people will be there on Christmas morning. If any of them are like Oliver, they could put away a lot of cake.
“You need to stop?” Oliver asks, pointing toward a sign for a rest stop.
“Sure, I could stretch my legs.” Plus, a break will be nice. “I can trade if you want me to drive for a bit.”
“Nah, I’m good. I might grab a coffee, though.” As if on cue, he yawns.
“I was wondering how you were surviving.” I’ve rarely seen him before three in the afternoon without a cup of coffee basically attached to his hand.
“I had a few cups before I left the house this morning, but I can always use more.”
Yeah, maybe I’ll push him on switching positions. He could probably use a nice nap before we get there, and chaos ensues. “Let’s see what they’ve got.”
OLIVER
The drive is blissfully easy, with limited holiday traffic. By the time I pull up in front of my childhood home, it’s nearly lunch. A fact my stomach is letting me know very loudly.
It’s not my fault. We’ve been listening to people describe decadent desserts for the last three hours. All I want is something sweet, preferably covered in icing. With sprinkles.
“Holy crap. This place is huge,” Aaron says as he slides out of the car, stretching his legs.
“Trust me, it won’t feel like that after a day.” People underestimate how much space my family takes up when we’reall together. It’s like the laws of physics no longer apply when that many people are involved. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s what happens.
He reaches for the trunk, and I wave him off. “We’ll come back for the bags later. Let’s go inside and get settled first.” It’s less practical and more of a necessity. I come from a family of huggers. Having our hands full when we arrive is problematic.
I’ve done my best to warn Aaron, but there’s not much I can say to prepare someone for the full experience of my family. Every time I start to tell him what to expect, he waves me off, assuring me that he’s got it under control.
I grew up here, and I don’t have it under control. This is why I’ve never brought anyone home before.
Okay, it’s part of the reason why. I’ve also never been serious enough about someone even to consider introducing them to the whole crew. Aaron still calls this a beta test, but I’m already sold. On him. On us. The whole thing. The only thing left to do is to convince him that he’s the perfect boyfriend for me. I don’t care what any of those assholes in the past have said. They did him—and me—a favor by cutting him loose.
When we reach the front door, I try the knob and find it unlocked. “They’re expecting us.” As soon as I open the door, the wall of chaos washes over me. Kids are screaming, mixed with the yapping of my sister’s dachshund, which has come to meet us. “Scamp.” I hold my arms out and let the dog rush into them. This little guy is ridiculous, and I love him for it. He wiggles so much I barely manage to keep hold of him as he licks my face. Aaron gives me an incredulous look. My mind wanders back to the night in the bar with his work friends, when he told them he thought the dachshund was the perfect breed. I disagreed with him then as much as I still do now. Scamp is the only exception.
“Is that you, Ollie?”
I cringe a little at my nickname. I’ve tried desperately to get them to stop calling me that, but to no avail. Most of the time, I don’t really care, but I don’t need it following me back to Cardinal Falls. Aaron smirks at me and mouths the name.
“Don’t,” I warn. A scurry of activity overwhelms us before I can say anything else. With all the commotion, it’s too hard to pick out what any one person is saying.
