The Plight Before Christmas(97)

“I was way too controlling last time,” I confess quickly. “This time, I’m going to leave things up to her.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

“I’m being honest,” I say simply because it’s the truth. I’ve exposed myself, made a fool of myself in a way I never have before. It’s been terrifying, humbling and in a sense, liberating. I turn to Thatch, who’s eyeing Serena as she helps Wyatt and Peyton on the floor with a puzzle. “I appreciate the heads up, man, really, I do, but shouldn’t you be formulating your own plan?”

“I have one.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I had one,” he grimaces, “but I sort of fucked up the execution. I plan on remedying that tonight after church.” Thatch nudges me as Serena makes her way into the kitchen. I look down to see him crack open a box where a huge solitaire and accompanying wedding band with two diamonds sits inside it.

“One for each of our babies.” He discreetly clips it closed and pockets the box. “It was way past time for an upgrade. It’s been a bitch keeping this on me since we got here without her sniffing it out, and there’s a reason the books haven’t been adding up the past month.” He smirks. “I know her a lot better than she thinks I do. I’ve just been biding my time. I’m only sorry I’ve hurt her in playing ignorant. By the end of the night, she’s going to know exactly why I’ve been aloof. I’m going to ask her to renew our vows.”

“That’s awesome, man, really.”

“As much as she drives me batshit, I would do anything for her.”

“That’s obvious, with or without the rock.”

I glance back over to Whitney, knowing the clock is ticking, and I still haven’t found the right gift for under twenty bucks that in any way relays how well I know her. Just as panic begins to creep in, a notion strikes and my gears start turning. I turn back to Thatch. “If you’re covered, I have an idea, but I’ll need your help. Can you give me a lift?”

“I’m growing pretty fond of your ideas,” Thatch says.

“Might have one for Brenden, too.”

“Say no more. I’m in.”

I nod. “Grab Brenden. Tell the girls we’re going to get more wood. I’ll meet you at your SUV.”

“On it.”

Standing abruptly, I charge toward the hall tree, slip on my coat, and head outside.





“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Brenden belts into the microphone before glancing down at his cue card. The Space Odyssey theme song blares through the speakers as colorful spotlights whirl throughout the darkened living room.

“Are you serious, Dad?” Brenden questions into the mic.

“Just say it, son!” Dad screams from the kitchen, “You’re already screwing up the pacing!”

We all laugh where we sit huddled in the rearranged furniture facing the small stage, a stage Eli helped Dad haul into the living room and assemble. Not once today have I been able to look away from him, knowing what I know, his confessions still swirling around in my head and chest. The confessions—along with the heated glances he’s been sending my way—have wooed me into a state, a dire need to get closer. So much closer.

We haven’t had a minute alone since last night. Even though I hoped to have time for ‘the talk’ today, I got swamped with a to-do list a mile long to get things ready for tonight’s festivities.

Even as I broke my back to help get it all done, I spent most of my time daydreaming about another kiss—my appetite growing as we exchanged loaded looks throughout the day. The butterflies haven’t just been swarming, they’ve invaded me completely, and I’ve allowed it. Anticipation has left me heavy with want, the mere idea of getting intimate with Eli again consuming my thoughts.

He sits nearby in the love seat, dressed to perfection in a thick sweater that bulks up his already impressive frame and snug jeans, his perfectly coiffed hair only slightly disheveled from his earlier wrestling session with Peyton. Wyatt sits in his lap now, seemingly content, Gracie at his side, Conner on the other. In a mere five days, they’ve all fallen for him and seem to be flocking to him naturally.

Ignoring the gnawing reminder of how the last daydreams backfired, I bat away the idea that he’s faking any part of his participation with my family. It’s far too genuine to be contrived. Bothered by the mere idea of it, I flick my gaze back to Brenden as he finishes the prepared minute-long introduction.

“And now, I’d like to introduce to you the father of Rock ‘n’ Roll, the one and only, ELVIS PRESLEY!”

“AND!?” Dad barks from the kitchen.

“And what?!” Brenden snaps into the microphone, the feedback causing us all to cringe.

“Read the card, jackass!”

“Oh,” Brenden rolls his eyes, his voice flat, “his hunka hunka burnin’ sidekick.”

See See Rider begins to play as Dad struts in, decked out from head to foot in Elvis garb with Peyton in his arms, dressed similarly in his own studded white jumpsuit, matching white boots, and Elvis wig.

Laughter bursts out of me as Brenden shakes his head, his own laughter pouring out as he hands the mic over to the King. Dad produces a mini-studded mic for Peyton before setting him down. Both of them launch into timed karate kicks as the Collins women—me included—scream our enthusiasm through our laughter. Dad begins to sing as a thoroughly rehearsed Peyton gyrates his hips.