Chapter 38
Willow drifted awake in a bubble of warmth and comfort. She blinked, trying to orient herself in the unfamiliar bedroom. Something soft yet solid pressed against her side and pinned her to the mattress. It took her sleep-dazed brain a few moments to realize what—or rather who—it was.
Scottie was sprawled half on top of her, one arm draped over Willow’s waist, one leg slung across her thigh as if claiming Willow in her sleep. Her face was tucked against the curve of Willow’s neck. Warm breath washed over Willow’s skin while soft strands tickled her collarbone.
Sometime during the night, they had apparently traded places. Now Willow was lying on her back, with Scottie nestled against her like a big, floppy, lovable golden retriever puppy.
A contented hum vibrated through Scottie, and she snuggled even closer, her leg tightening around Willow’s own, as if trying to prevent her from going anywhere.
Tenderness flooded Willow. She lay very still, hoping to make this moment last forever.
But all too soon, other, less pleasant memories of the night before crept in.
God, she couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep on Scottie and, worse, cried all over her…again! She really had to stop doing that. But being here with Scottie’s family had stirred up a lot of stuff for her—things she hadn’t even been aware were still bothering her.
She remembered the last words she’d heard before she’d drifted off to sleep. “You did nothing wrong,” Scottie had said in a soothing yet fierce whisper. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Lying here, with Scottie’s warmth covering her, a tiny part of her started to believe it.
She’d been just a curious kid. What she’d done was no worse than Scottie cutting inches off her parents’ flokati rug. The mental image of little Scottie—Barbie in one hand, a pair of scissors in the other—proudly showing off the “freshly mowed lawn” made her chuckle.
Compared to that, was touching her grandfather’s engine really so bad?
Scottie twitched. Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. She yawned and stretched luxuriously, her strong body sliding against Willow’s in ways that suddenly made her wide-awake.
“Morning.” Scottie’s husky voice rumbled through her, sending a ripple of goose bumps up Willow’s spine.
She lifted her head off Willow’s shoulder, and a soft smile spread over her face as she glanced down at her.
With her hair a disheveled mess, she somehow managed to look both adorable and sexy at the same time. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” Willow said and was amazed to find that it was true. “Lighter.” She reached up and smoothed back a few of Scottie’s wild strands. “I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to—”
Scottie stopped her with a soft touch to her cheek. “Don’t apologize. I suspect your parents probably told you the opposite, but with me, you’re allowed to have feelings.”
“I do,” Willow whispered. “Have them.”
Scottie raised herself up on one elbow, leaning over her.
Their gazes locked.
Slowly, without looking away, Scottie traced the curve of Willow’s lower lip with the pad of her thumb. “Yeah?”
Before Willow could decide whether this was the moment to confess her love or lean up and kiss her, the door burst open.
“Auntie Scottie! Willow!” Logan shouted. “Get up! Santa came!” He charged into the room, followed by his sister, Lily, both still in pajamas.
Groaning, Scottie rolled onto her back, away from Willow. “Hey, you’re supposed to knock first, remember, buddy?”
Logan skidded to a stop next to the bed. “Oh. Sorry. But Santa came! You have to come downstairs!”
“Um, can we have five more minutes?”
“No! It’s time for presents!” He pulled on Scottie’s arm.
“Auntie Carol said to tell you there’s coffee,” Lily announced with all the seriousness of an eight-year-old on an important mission.
Willow gave her bedmate an amused look. “Your mom’s got your number.”
“Nah.” Scottie pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and whispered into her ear, “You do.”
When Willow blushed, Scottie grinned and bounced out of bed. “We’ll be right down. Go and make sure your dad doesn’t drink all the coffee.”
~ ~ ~
When Willow followed Scottie downstairs, the house looked as if everyone had been up for hours already. The heavenly scent of roasting turkey drifted over from the kitchen, and the smart speaker apparently worked again, playing soft Christmas music.
Scottie’s parents, her great-aunt, several aunts and uncles, and one remaining cousin—Noah—were in the living room, gathered around the tree.
Willow and Scottie squeezed onto the large, L-shaped couch between Rick and Carol and watched the kids dive into their piles of presents.
Once their excited squeals had calmed down, Willow placed the first of her presents on Scottie’s lap.
Scottie tore off the wrapping paper with the same enthusiasm as her cousin’s kids.
“Ooh, a hoodie!” She pulled it out and traced the little cartoon character—a witch brandishing a sparkling wand—and the letters that read Tech Witch.
“Perfect!” She pulled it on over her T-shirt right then and there, wearing it proudly as she opened the second gift Willow had gotten her.
When the paper fell away, Scottie stared down at leather straps and metal buckles that were clearly meant to go around her hips. Instead of showing off her gift to the rest of the family, she peered at Willow with raised eyebrows.
Willow burst out laughing and gave her an it’s-not-what-you’re-thinking look. “It’s a gardening tool belt, with leather holsters for your pruner and all the other gardening tools.”
“Oh. Right.” Scottie fully pulled it free of the paper and touched the smooth leather. “Exactly what I assumed it was.”
“Right.” Willow chuckled, enjoying that, for once, she’d been the one to make Scottie blush.
Scottie playfully dug her elbow into her side. “Thank you. Now I’ll look really badass while I plant tomatoes.”
“Yes,” Willow murmured, already imagining it. “You definitely will.”
“Hey, you two, stop it!” Scottie’s father called over to them.
Willow froze. So far, the Prescotts had seemed completely at ease with any displays of affection from them. Had she misjudged them, and they weren’t fine with it after all?
But Rick was grinning as he nodded down at the weather station he had just unboxed. He had immediately set up his new toy, but something didn’t seem quite right with it—the display insisted the temperature inside the house was 105 degrees. “You’re messing with the sensors.”
A flutter of panic raced through Willow. Oh God. He knows! He knows it’s me causing all the glitches!
Rick tapped the screen, and the displayed temperature ticked up to 106. “Those heated looks definitely have to stop, you two.” His tone was teasing.
Oh. Ohh. So that was what he’d meant. He was neither homophobic, nor did he suspect that her energy was messing with his weather station. Willow slumped against the back of the couch.
Scottie softly rubbed her knee, and Willow leaned against her side, trying to slow her racing heart.
“Here.” Scottie set a heavy package onto her lap, probably to distract her. “Open it.”
Willow hoped no one noticed that her fingers were trembling as she carefully removed the paper—or if they did, they would think it was just excitement.
When she lifted the lid, she forgot about the weather station.
On her lap, with a red satin bow wrapped around it, sat the beautiful old typewriter she’d admired at the Memory Den!
Willow lovingly trailed her fingers over the keys. “Scottie,” she whispered. “You didn’t!”
“Totally did.” Scottie beamed as if she were the one receiving this incredible gift. “I saw the way you looked at it, so I went back and got it as soon as they opened the next day.”
Willow swallowed. “You spent way too much, but…thank you. It’ll get a special place of honor in my collection.”
The Prescotts leaned closer, oohing and aahing over the typewriter.
Only Great-Aunt Dorothy seemed unimpressed. “What’s so special about that thing?” The lines on her forehead became more pronounced as she squinted at it. “I had one just like it when I first started at Oakley and McLanders.”
The rest of the family burst out laughing, which only deepened Dorothy’s frown.
When Willow wanted to set the typewriter back in its box, Scottie stopped her with a touch to her arm. “There’s something else inside.”
Willow peeked into the box.
It was a laminated badge, dangling from a rainbow lanyard. A photo of herself stared back at Willow, and she recognized it as one of the pictures Scottie had taken beneath the Troll Bridge.
Below the photo, bold letters read: VIP girlfriend badge.
Laughter rose up Willow’s chest, replacing part of her anxiety.
“Well,” Scottie said, a crooked grin playing around her lips, “you said you wanted one.”
Willow nodded. “Thank you.” She lifted it from the box and slipped the rainbow lanyard around her neck. While she loved the typewriter, the badge might be her favorite gift ever.
In the meantime, the Prescotts had opened more of their own gifts.
Carol held a digital photo frame and watched with a happy smile as the screen cycled through pictures of her loved ones. “Oh, that’s so cute! Look, that’s Scottie as a five-year-old!” She pressed the frame into Willow’s hands.
The rotation of photos halted, frozen on little Scottie’s adorable gap-toothed grin.
Willow’s stomach twisted into a knot. Oh, no, no, no. Not again!
“Hey, at least it’s got good taste,” Scottie said, probably trying to laugh it off. “It could have stopped on a picture of Noah.”
Noah threw a crumpled-up ball of wrapping paper at her.
“Let me see.” Rick took the frame from Willow’s trembling hands, and it immediately started working again.
It wasn’t broken, and neither was the weather station, Willow tried to tell herself. They were just glitching and would start to work again once she left. All she had to do was stay calm for the rest of the visit so she wouldn’t affect anything else.