“With my leg this fucked? Not much choice.”
Cary nodded, gripping the wheel tighter. “Well, try to have a good holiday, bud.”
CHAPTER 19
TYLER
“Merry Christmas, Rory!” Tyler called from her childhood bed. “Cary’s coming to see you, buddy.”
Rory hopped down from the bed and searched the room, but he didn’t understand she meant later. Poor Rory.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around his surprise visit to the pub two nights ago. It was sweet—undeniably so—but confusing, too. They weren’t exactlytogether, were they?
“Tyler!” Dylan’s voice boomed through her door. “Are you up?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right out.”
Tyler walked into the living room a few minutes later, ready for chaos. Instead, she found silence.
“Did the rapture happen? Where is everyone?”
“My house,” Dylan said, bending over to kiss her nephew. “Merry Christmas, Rory!” Her sister gave him a new bully stick with a bow, and he wagged his tail.
At the kitchen counter, Tyler poured two cups of coffee. “Here,” she said, passing a mug to Dylan and sitting at the table. “Why are you here so early?” she asked, blowing on her coffee.
Dylan folded her arms on the table like a genie before dropping her head onto them. “I’m tired,” she mumbled. “I love Joe’s family, but it’s crowded over there.”
Tyler slid a mug toward her, letting the coffee do the talking. “Some of them can stay here. We’ve got an extra bedroom.”
“I know, but they insist on being under the same roof.” Dylan opened one eye. “It’s how they grew up.”
Tyler had lived alone since Dave, and she could hardly remember what it was like to share her space with anyone but the miniature panda.
“We need to get ready for the open house.” Tyler glanced at her watch. “Soonish.”
“Just let me rest my eyes for a minute.”
“Okay, but I need your advice.” Dylan nodded but kept her eyes shut. “As you know, Cary’s coming by later, but I think we need to havethe talkfirst.”
“The talk?” Dylan mumbled.
“Yeah. Before I sleep with him.”
Her sister sighed through her nose. “What’s the problem?”
“Well . . .” She crossed her legs. “You know I want a family, and he’s one of these eternally single guys. And a musician. Probably a cheater, too, from my experience.”
Dylan’s shoulders rolled up like a marionette on strings. “Not all musicians are cheaters, Tyler. Look at Dad.”
The front door opened and Bert walked in, pressing his hands to his head. “My ears are burning,” he said. “What are you two talking about?”
Tyler stared at her sister and shook her head once.
Dylan turned toward the door. “She thinks all musicians are cheaters, Dad.” Tyler kicked her under the table. “Ow! Fuck, my leg!” Dylan grabbed her shin.
Bert pulled up a chair and joined his daughters at the table. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.” He smiled at his youngest child and kissed her on the cheek. “What’s this all about?”
“Cary,” they said in unison.
