Never Let You Go(55)

“I can just hear it now,” Marcus says. “Dr. Copeland, were you smoking drugs when you wrote this? Dr. Copeland can you autograph a copy for my cat? She’s your biggest fan.”

“Stop it,” I laugh. “It’s going to be a best seller.”

“Well, when I’m finished you can be my first reader and give me feedback.” He glances over at Greg. “Lindsey’s a great editor. She doesn’t pull any punches.”

“That’s my girl.”

My girl? I guess technically I’m his girlfriend, but the way he said it made it clear that he wanted Marcus to know we are together. My face warm, I loosen my arm from Greg’s, take a nibble of my cracker, glance at the table as though I’m planning my next snack.

“So you’re a UPS driver, right?” Marcus says. “You must be busy this time of year.”

“Yep, lots of packages.” They lapse into silence.

Marcus wipes at his mouth with his napkin, says, “Excuse me for a moment,” and walks over to a few of the ladies from the group, sits on the hearth beside one of them.

Greg looks at me. “The quiche is good.”



Okay, so Marcus and Greg aren’t going to be buddies. That’s fine, but I wish Greg had tried a little harder. It’s like he’s actively avoiding Marcus now and keeps putting his arm around my waist and whispering in my ear whenever Marcus gets up to grab another plate of snacks or comes near me. I’m having unwelcome flashbacks to the parties I attended with Andrew, how it always turned into a game where he had to show everyone that I belonged to him. I’ve caught Marcus watching us a couple of times, an odd expression on his face, part amused, part curious. For the last half hour, I’ve been talking to Rachelle, one of my employees, and ignoring both men.

Greg is now sitting in one of the chairs, watching a hockey game on his phone. Marcus heads into the kitchen with his empty glass. I assume he’s getting another drink, but when he hasn’t returned after a couple of minutes, I excuse myself from the conversation and check on him. He’s on the floor, playing tug with Angus, who’s growling and pouncing happily on his toy, shaking it back and forth in his powerful mouth.

“I see you’ve made a new friend,” I say.

“He’s fun.”

“He’s a giant pain in the ass, but I’m crazy about him.” I can’t believe Angus has only been living with us a few days—it feels like we’ve had him forever. I love how he sleeps at the foot of my bed at night, cocking his ears at a strange noise, or raising his head and woofing if he thinks it’s something I should investigate. I love how happy he is to see me every day, how his big melting brown eyes can somehow make me give him a sample of whatever I’m eating. Even his huge feet, which track in every bit of snow and mud, make me smile.

“You okay?” I say.

“Yeah, just thinking about Katie. This was her favorite time of year. She’d make everyone crafts, but she was terrible at it.” He laughs. “I have a box full of ornaments with shredded ribbons and sparkles falling off of them. One year she tried to make Christmas candles and ended up with blobs of red and green wax all over our floor. It took us hours to scrape it all up.”

“It sounds like she was a lot of fun.”

He nods, but his smile is fading, and he looks tired now. “I think I’m going to take off,” he says. “Can you say good-bye to everyone for me?”

“Of course.” I walk him out and wave from the front door, feeling bad that he’s going home to an empty house. Then I think of Andrew, how Sophie had thought he was lonely, and glance around the dark woods. Is he watching now? I close the door firmly. Then I head down the hall to the bathroom, and accidentally open the door on Greg, who is standing at the sink.

“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know you were in here.” Then I realize his hand is on the medicine cabinet as though he was just closing it.

He gives me a sheepish smile. “I ate too much.” He rubs his chest. “Heartburn.”

“The Tums are in the kitchen.” He waits for me in the living room and talks to Rachelle while I get him a glass of water and a few Tums, then we settle back on the couch in front of the fire. Now that I’m not watching the tension between Marcus and Greg, or scared that the phone is going to ring, I’m enjoying myself. Greg has also relaxed, and I’m not feeling as annoyed. It’s natural to feel a little jealousy, I suppose. Eventually my guests begin to leave, and an hour later they’ve all gone home. Greg helps me clean the kitchen. When we’re finished, he kisses me against the counter, his hands drifting down to my waist. “Want me to stay?”

“I would, but Delaney is sleeping over tonight and that might be awkward.”

“You know you and Sophie can come to Vancouver with me. They’d love to meet you.” Greg is visiting his family for Christmas and won’t be home until after New Year’s Eve. We’ve agreed not to exchange presents and instead go skiing for a day when he gets home.

“Maybe next year.”

“Is there a next year?”

I hide my face in his sweater, unsure of my answer. The warm, cozy feeling the wine gave me earlier seems to have disappeared and left me with a tight, trapped sensation.

“Things are complicated right now,” I say. “It’s hard to think that far ahead.”