The Plight Before Christmas(107)

“And fix your clothes,” he orders from the darkened room.

“I just did. Eli, go to sleep.”

“I can’t. My room reeks of lemon polish. I can hardly breathe. Keep dusting.”

I hang my head as another bout of laughter escapes me.

“It’s not funny,” he whispers. “Is that a car?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Whitney?”

“Yes?”

“Please keep dusting, and make it look convincing, okay? I know I’m acting crazy, but I love your family. I really do. I’ve fallen in love with them, and I don’t want to lose their respect.”

His desperation-laced tone tugs at my heart. “Okay.”

“Promise? Remember, I have to work with your brother, and I want to be able to look Allen in the eye tomorrow.”

“I promise you they’ve all fallen for you, too,” I assure him, “and I’m pretty sure they both have had sex, but I’ll make them believers in the one a.m. polish, only for you, baby. And because that sex was fire.”

A pause.

“Like…on a scale of what?”

“You did not just ask me that,” I shake my head with a grin.

“Just want to make sure my girl is happy.”

“An easy hundred out of ten,” I say.

“Good to know…I’ve never had sex in a girlfriend’s parent’s house before.”

“That’s pretty obvious. And it really shouldn’t be a regular occurrence considering your age at present.”

“I’m feeling a little dirty and…a little vulnerable if I’m honest.”

“You don’t say?” I press my lips together as his innocence tugs at my heart. The fact that he’s still inexperienced in certain things is just another reason to let myself fall again. “You know, Eli, I can just go up to bed, and they can wonder why the house smells like polish.”

Silence…then. “They’ll know. They’ll know it’s sex polish.”

I palm my forehead as the cars start to pull up, and I whisper-shout, “Yes, they’re here,” before he gets a chance to ask.

“Bee?” He calls, his whisper lower as the car doors close.

“Yeah?” I say, pulling a few frames off the shelf in an attempt to sell it.

“I’m going to make you so happy. I promise you. Merry Christmas.”

Here we go again, heart, be good to us.

The front door opens a second later as I greet my family with a rag in hand, a beaming heart, and matching smile. “Merry Christmas.”





The stomping of the herd down the stairs was quickly followed by the pop of champagne. Dad freely poured into flutes, handing me one as I joined them downstairs after a long, hot shower.

The kids raided their unopened presents from Rudolph as the rest of us congregated around them. Taking my first sip of champagne, I feel Eli’s eyes on me. We exchange a long look that does little to ease the tension in his shoulders. We haven’t spoken privately since last night, and I can tell he’s worried about me regretting my decision. I want to go to him and ease his fears—to tell him I’m not at all second-guessing my decision to give us another try. Our breakup did a number on me, and it’s going to take time. It’s not like I can change the cautious stripes I’ve grown into overnight. He will have to earn my trust while I learn to trust my feelings and his.

I flash him a genuine smile, and his lips slowly lift as we go telepathic. He speaks first.

Just checking to make sure you don’t regret it.

Not a minute, sir. I’ll prove it when we’re alone later.

Relief covers his features as I smile into my glass.

Content, I divert my attention to my squealing nieces and nephews.

“What’s this?” Gracie asks, walking over to an Elf on a shelf perched on the dining room table. Next to it sits three huge gift tags attached to long ribbons that seem to have no end. She picks up one of the tags and reads it.

I look over to Mom, knowing this is something right up her alley, and she shakes her head. I dart my gaze over at Serena, who shakes her head in similar denial, just as clueless.

“What does it say?” I ask Gracie.

“It says ‘Gracie, follow me,’” she giggles. “There’s one for Peyton and Conner, too.”

Conner races toward the table, and Peyton slowly approaches at Thatch’s urging. Gracie passes out the tags and immediately begins following hers as she zig-zags around the room where the ribbon seems to be wrapped around dining chairs—no end of it in sight.

Curious, I set my glass down and go to help as Peyton immediately starts yanking on his own ribbon. Giggling, Conner, and Gracie begin to follow theirs as well—which leads them into the kitchen.

I glance over my shoulder to see Eli, Thatch, and Brenden sharing knowing grins. Ahhh, the culprits.

Intrigued, I follow Peyton, and when we turn the corner, I gawk. The kitchen is covered in three distinct colors of ribbon, which are strung intricately throughout, their paths different. Peyton and I continue to follow our designated path as I unhitch the ribbon, which has been looped loosely around the cabinet handles.

Conner and Gracie giggle hysterically as they follow their own paths in a zig-zag pattern from room to room.