The Plight Before Christmas(45)

“You sound sure.”

“Because I’m speaking from experience.” He swallows and glances around the kitchen. “You weren’t exaggerating. Your family really goes all out.”

I can’t help my pride-filled smile. “But it’s cool, right?”

His eyes glimmer with appreciation as he scans the fully decked-out kitchen while I study the hard lines of his jaw. Lines he’s grown further into since our time together. “Yeah, yeah…it really is, but you know I don’t see any Santa de—”

“Shhhh,” I admonish, eyes widening. “And you won’t. St. Nick is Peyton’s arch-nemesis. He hates him. Any mention of that jolly old bastard and he’ll go psycho baby like Damien in the Omen scary. There was a thing at the mall last year, and let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. I have no idea how he still remembers it, but it’s ingrained in him.”

He chuckles, the sound smooth and inviting. I study him briefly until he glances at me. Looking out of the window, I catch our reflection which is illuminated by the twinkling bulbs intertwined with tinsel outlining the pane. It’s intimate in feel due to it being the only light in the kitchen. When his eyes meet mine in the window, I drop them to the dish I’m scrubbing.

Even with his cologne fading, I can still catch whiffs of it as his arm brushes mine. Dinner was uneventful, aside from Peyton’s sleepy meltdown due to him missing his nap this afternoon. He refused to eat, demanding to watch the Lion King on Thatch’s iPad, to which Thatch easily gave into despite Serena’s protest, the tension between them uncomfortably palpable.

The house is eerily calm for the moment, with everyone gathered in the living room in different states of a dinner-induced coma. Glancing over, I nudge Eli’s shoulder as he buffs another plate dry. “Your parents didn’t decorate?”

He pauses his hands briefly, and I shake my head. “Never mind.”

He surprises me by speaking up.

“Not like yours. If I’m honest, they didn’t really get a chance to.”

“How so?”

“When we lived in LA…well, did I ever tell you my Dad was a lawyer?”

I nod. One of the very few details I got from him about his parents.

“He was a good one. He had a lot of high-profile clients, and my mother spent a ton of time catering to them as well. She was a bit of a socialite—and not much of a homemaker—so we kind of had our decorating done for us.”

“Rich kid, huh?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess I was, but it was kind of the norm where we lived. At times, it felt a lot like it looked—plastic.”

Glancing over at him, I notice his expression is much the same as it was back when I braved questions when we were together. The difference is now, he’s answering.

“He was always working—”

“This is the last of them,” Serena interrupts, eyeing us both suspiciously as she deposits a small pile of dishes on the counter. “You two need any help?”

“We’re good,” Eli elbows me. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” I agree. We’ve made small talk for a majority of the time we’ve been in here, and it’s been, for the most part, easy. Hope springs inside me that we may get through the rest of our time together without incident.

“Uh huh,” Serena says, her tone both accusatory and annoying. “I guess I’ll wipe the table.”

Squeezing out a rag, I toss it at her in warning. It slaps her chest with a soap-filled thud as she glares at me. “Unnecessary,” she barks.

“My thoughts exactly, helicopter.”

Eli chuckles, and I shake my head as Serena stalks out, muttering under her breath about being underappreciated.

“Do yourself a favor and just ignore her. We all do.”

“I like that she’s protective of you.”

Pausing briefly, I decide not to decipher his comment and grab the plates, dropping them into the water.

“So, what’s up for tomorrow?” Eli asks just as I go to prompt him for more about his parents. Instead, I give him the easy out.

“Didn’t you get the mission statement and Google doc?”

Eli raises both brows, and I grin.

“I think Mom and Dad are taking us all snow tubing on Moonshine Mountain.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I love the snow. Colorado was my playground for a few years. But if I’m honest, my favorite place was the slopes in Switzerland.”

“Wow, you’ve been around, huh?”

“I globe trotted for a while. You?”

“Never got around to it.”

His expression turns pained as he refrains from speaking.

“Oh, spit it out, Welch.”

“I’m just disappointed…for you.”

“Dude, I’m not dead yet.”

“You had a birthday bucket list,” he reminds me.

“If I remember correctly, it was a list you deemed reckless and ambitious.”

“I did. Some of that shit was crazy dangerous.”

“Yeah,” I grin. “Skydiving at twenty-three.”

“I did,” he says softly.

I frown. “You did what?”