Chapter 14
Nate
YOU MAKE IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS
My eyes flutter open to the sound of Elizabeth’s voice.
“Did you sleep good?” Her voice is soft.
“I’ll let you out and then I’ll fix your breakfast.” I turn over on the bed and look out the window, seeing it’s light outside.
When I reach over to grab my phone from the bedside table, I see it’s just after eight thirty.
I put my phone back on the bedside table before just staring off into the distance.
Last night was a good one. One filled with lots of memories of my parents.
Some I forgot about. Some I’d remembered so vividly it was like I was back with them again.
It’s never happened to me before. I would remember things time and time again, but I have never talked about the memories with someone.
They just sat lingering in the black box in my mind, untouched, where I had put all my precious memories I’ve had in my life, including the night that I spent with her.
I sat on the couch I don’t know for how much longer after she left me. Her words penetrated through and then brought up all these questions I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to. I had to let it go.
“Get out of there,” I hear her hiss and look over at the open door, “if you break anything…” Her hiss is now a growl.
“I will toss your ass outside.” I flip the covers off me, getting out of bed.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” Her voice is frantic, and I walk out of my bedroom door and down the steps.
“Get the fuck out of there.” She is back to hissing.
“I’m locking you out of my bedroom tonight. ”
I walk into the kitchen and look over at the tree, finding her standing there in tight-as-fuck black booty shorts.
Her ass is filling them all out, and my cock—hard from waking up—is now hard for another fucking reason.
“What is going on?” I watch her reaching into the tree, trying not to knock anything over.
“The fucking cat,” she snaps, worry filling her face. “Baby fucking Cat is stuck in the fucking tree. Sleeping there like he lives there.”
I scratch my head. “Tell him to come out.” She moves away from the tree as I get closer to her. Baby Cat is literally lying across five branches just chilling, as if this tree is meant just for him.
“Just tell him to come out,” she mocks my words, “like I didn’t already try that.
I don’t think he’ll listen to me.” I put my hands on my hips.
“He’s not one to care about authority.” She turns back to talk to him.
“Find someplace else to sleep tonight.” She points at him sleeping on the second-to-the-top row of branches.
“I think he just did.” I try not to laugh at her glare as she turns and storms away. “If I were you,” I lean in and whisper, “I’d get the fuck out of the tree. It’s better to be in her bed than a fucking tree.”
“What are you telling him?” she asks me as I hear the sound of the cupboards slamming shut. “You better be threatening him.”
I shake my head and hear Whiskey at the door, his nails scratching to come in.
I walk over to open the door as Elizabeth is busy in my kitchen.
I haven’t had a woman in my kitchen since Britt.
I especially have never had a woman in this house.
But seeing her there, it’s strange to say that I don’t see her anywhere else.
I also don’t see anyone else but her here with me.
“Good morning,” I greet as Whiskey excitedly comes in bouncing on his paws around my legs as I pet his side.
“You left me in bed the minute she got up, didn’t you?
” I look up to see Elizabeth bending over, putting his water bowl down.
Her ass is right in my face practically.
I groan and look back down at the dog. “I would too.”
The smell of coffee is filling the room as she moves around the kitchen, taking out the mugs and then the milk. “What are the plans today?” she asks me and I shrug as I walk over to one of the stools and pull it out. “Let me get my phone.”
She walks back over to the counter, picking it up, and tapping the screen.
“It says scavenger hunt.” She puts her phone down and walks over to the coffee machine.
“Like what the fuck is going on? Why can’t he be like a normal person?
” She pours coffee in both cups and then adds the milk.
“Come down, meet a couple of the bridesmaids during a fitting.” She turns and walks over, putting down a cup in front of me.
“Thanks,” I mumble, picking it up while she walks over to the couch. Her mug is in her hand as she curls her feet under her and looks at the tree.
“Have a rehearsal dinner and then get married.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “No, not Joshua. Joshua is like, what would annoy the fuck out of everyone? Let’s do that.” I snort.
“He knew how much it took for people to be away from their families during the holidays, so he wanted everyone to feel like they were family.”
“We are fucking family.” She turns her face to me. “Literally, everyone knows everyone.”
“You know everyone?” I know she knows her family, but she doesn’t know many of Macy’s side of the family since she hasn’t been here.
“I don’t want to.” She glares at me. “There is a difference. I don’t do a lot of people.” She holds the mug to her mouth and takes a small sip of the piping hot coffee.
I get up and walk over to the couch and sit down on the other side, watching the tree with the lights on.
Baby Cat has slunk down, and his eyes are closed.
“Good news.” She looks over at me. Her hair is tied on top of her head and her face is free of makeup, and she’s never looked more beautiful before.
“There is this. The gingerbread house competition and then the joint bachelor/bachelorette party and then we are done.”
“That’s a lie.” She sighs.
“No, he canceled the snowman building since there is no snow.”
“That’s not what I meant. You left out the rehearsal dinner and the wedding.”
I chuckle and hold my coffee in my hands tighter when I see Whiskey come toward us and jump on the couch in between us.
“Well, those two were a given and always going to be on the list.” He turns in a circle and then plops down, putting his face on Elizabeth’s legs, and I’ve never been more jealous of my dog in my life.
“So I take it, when it’s your turn to get married”—the coffee now feels like it’s curdling in my stomach—“you won’t do the two-weeks-of-getting-to-know-each-other kind of thing. ”
“No,” she snaps. “It will be maybe a rehearsal dinner. I don’t think I’ll have a big bridal party like Macy. A maid of honor, maybe one bridesmaid, and then the rest will be invited. The wedding is really between two people and not five hundred.”
“You might want to never say that to your parents,” I warn her. “Maybe your uncle Max will agree with you, but he’s about the only one who will.”
She chuckles. “What about you?” She puts her hand on the back of the couch and then leans her temple on her closed fist. “How do you see your wedding?”
“I really couldn’t care less, as long as I get to marry the girl I love,” I admit to her.
“If she shows up, I’m already winning.” She tosses her head back and laughs and when she looks back at me her eyes are twinkling.
“It could be just the two of us, or she can have whoever she wants there, I really don’t care. ”
“Would you say your own vows or do the generic ‘I take you as my wife’ sort of thing?”
“Again, it would be what she wants. I could do both. If we decide to do the generic”—I take a sip of my coffee, trying to get the image of her being my bride out of my head—“I would write her a letter with my vows to her.” Her mouth opens up in shock.
“That is so nice.” It comes out in almost a whisper.
“Why are you so shocked with everything I say? It’s like you don’t know me.
” I finish my coffee and get up from the couch, not sure I want to continue having this conversation because, eventually, I’m going to stop being scared and ask her why the fuck she left me after our night together.
“I’m going to shower and then get ready, we have to be at the reception hall at eleven. ”
“Great,” she mumbles and follows me up. “Are you not going to get the cat out of the tree?”
I look over and shake my head. “If he’s comfortable sleeping there, who am I to say different?”
She picks up my mug and takes it to the kitchen as I walk away from her, listening to her in the kitchen telling my cat he’s going to be very, very sorry if he doesn’t get his ass out of the tree.
An hour later I’m walking down the stairs, tucking my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, and see her at the bottom of the steps putting on her boots. She looks over her shoulder at me. “I’m almost done.” She turns back around and puts on the second boot.
I sit on the step behind her. “Take your time.” She’s wearing a dark-gray turtleneck today and I just know it’s silky soft cashmere I’d love nothing more than to grasp between my fingers.
She gets up and I see she’s wearing another pair of black leggings, and the oversized sweater is tucked in in the front. “It’s cold out,” she mumbles, walking over to grab her black jacket.
“You should have worn that jacket yesterday when we were plucking trees.”