Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Kat
My stomach twists over on itself as Daniel pulls into my parents’ driveway a short while later.
This whole thing has spiraled so far from one stupid impulse at the airport.
What started as a panicked lie to save face in front of my ex has somehow turned into this elaborate charade that’s about to involve my entire family.
I can see them in the front yard as we roll to a stop.
Dad is up on a ladder stringing Christmas lights around the porch railing while Mom holds the bottom steady, calling out directions about spacing.
Josephine is trying to keep Oscar and Megan, her four- and six-year-old kids, from tangling themselves in the extension cords with what looks like mixed success.
It’s such a normal scene, my family getting ready for the holidays…
and I’m about to blow it up with this insane lie.
Unless I just tell the truth right now. Admit that I made the whole thing up in a moment of panic and let Daniel have his moment of vindication.
Watch my family’s faces change from surprise to confusion to that particular brand of disappointed concern they reserve for my more questionable life choices.
I tell myself that maybe that would be the best course of action, but as we get out of the car and my parents look over with surprised smiles, the words stick in my throat. I can’t quite bring myself to confess, not with Daniel standing right there as if he’s just waiting to see me crash and burn.
“Look who I found at the airport,” my ex-boyfriend announces with a wave, clearly enjoying the drama of this moment.
“Kat!” Mom steps away from the ladder and tromps across the snowy yard toward me, wearing a broad smile. “Sweetheart, what a wonderful surprise! We weren’t expecting you until later this evening.”
She wraps me in a hug that smells like her favorite peppermint tea, and the familiar comfort of it makes my throat tight with guilt about what I’m about to do.
“I got an earlier flight.” I give a weak smile. “I thought I’d surprise you.”
Dad climbs down from the ladder carefully, then hurries over as well, wrapping me in one of his bear hugs that lifts me slightly off the ground. “Good to have you home, kiddo. How was the trip?”
“Fine.” My voice is muffled against his shoulder. “A little bumpy, but fine.”
When he sets me down, Josephine approaches with both kids trailing behind her, still clutching the extension cord between them.
She looks tired but happy, the way she always seems to look during the holidays when she’s trying to balance family time with wrangling two small humans who think Christmas decorations are the world’s best toy collection.
“Hey, sis,” she says, giving me a quick hug. “How was the flight? You look a little pale.”
“Probably from the turbulence,” I lie. “I feel better now that I’m on solid ground. Hi, Oscar and Megan!”
As Dad steps back to make room for me to crouch down and greet the kids, he glances over and finally notices Asher standing quietly beside me, hands in his coat pockets, looking politely patient while we have our reunion.
My father’s eyes widen with recognition.
It’s not immediate, more of the slow dawning of someone trying to place a familiar face.
“Wait a minute,” he says, drawing the words out. “You look familiar. Aren’t you…?”
My heart starts hammering. This is it. The moment where I either come clean or dive headfirst into the biggest lie of my life.
With no choice but to keep running toward disaster, I take a shaky breath and leap.
“Mom, Dad, Josephine—I’d like you to meet Asher Vaughn. My boyfriend.”
The reaction is instant. Mom’s face lights up, her jaw dropping open in surprise. Her hands fly to her cheeks, then to her hair, then back to her cheeks as if she can’t decide which gesture of excitement is appropriate.
“Your boyfriend?” she squeaks, her voice reaching a pitch that makes Oscar giggle. “The one you mentioned might not be able to make it because of work?”
Right. The vague reference I made during our last phone call, just a casual mention of “seeing someone” when she asked about my love life.
I was trying to deflect the usual gentle interrogation about why I’m still single.
I never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d actually produce a human being to validate that story.
A very handsome, very broad-shouldered, very tall man who towers over my 5’4” stature.
Dad’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline at my announcement, and I can practically see the wheels turning as he processes this information.
Even Josephine looks impressed, which is saying something since my sister and I really couldn’t be more different.
I’ve always been the black cat of the family, while she’s the one who seems to fit our parents’ expectations perfectly, staying in Maplewood, becoming a nurse, and settling down with a nice guy to raise a couple of kids.
“Of course,” my dad says, snapping his fingers suddenly. “The Philadelphia Strikers. I knew you looked familiar.” He turns to me with a bit of awe in his expression. “Kat, you didn’t mention your boyfriend was a professional hockey player.”
Because I didn’t know, I think frantically. Because I met him less than an hour ago in an airport baggage claim.
Asher steps forward with a calm sort of confidence that makes me wonder whether he’s freaking out as much on the inside as I am, or if he’s actually as relaxed as he seems. “Hello, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Dad accepts the handshake with a firm grip, and I watch his expression shift into pleased approval. Whatever he’s reading in Asher’s demeanor clearly passes the ‘are you good enough for my daughter’ test.
“Paul, please.” My dad shakes his head, his smile widening. “And the pleasure’s entirely ours. We’re thrilled you could make it after all. Kat’s told us so much about you.”
Have I? Because I’m pretty sure the extent of my fictional boyfriend details could fit on a grocery list. But Asher absorbs this information without missing a beat, as if he’s used to navigating conversations with the fathers of women he just met, as if he does it all the time.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t arrange to be here sooner,” he says smoothly. “My schedule has been demanding, but I couldn’t miss spending the holidays with Kat and her family.”
“Of course it has!” My mother practically vibrates with excitement, her hands still fluttering around like agitated butterflies.
“Professional sports must be so intense. And the first holiday together is such a big step. I’m sure it felt intimidating, but you’re here now, and that’s what matters most.”
The first holiday together. I blink at her words, shooting a sidelong glance at the stranger I just brought home for Christmas. In another world, this would be a milestone in my relationship, a moment I’d remember for years to come.
Well, I’ll definitely remember it, so I guess there’s that.
I’m dying inside knowing this is all elaborate fiction, but I can’t deny that it feels kind of good to see my parents this happy about something in my life.
It’s been so long since they’ve looked at me like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile instead of just another confusing choice they’re trying to support with worried smiles.
“We couldn’t be happier that you could join us,” Dad says, clapping Asher on the shoulder. “Kat’s always loved Christmas with the family. Having you here will make it even more special for her.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Asher replies, and something about the way he says it—like he actually means it—makes my stomach do this weird little flip.
“Thank you so much for driving them over, Daniel,” Mom says, finally remembering our transportation situation. She waves cheerfully at Maya, who’s been sitting patiently in the passenger seat this whole time. “And lovely to see you too, Maya! Congratulations on the engagement!”
“Not a problem,” Daniel says, pulling our bags out of the trunk before heading back toward the driver’s side. He shoots me a look as he goes, his gaze shifting to Asher before returning to my face. “I’m sure I’ll see you both around town.”
I give a vague nod in response, but my skin prickles with nerves.
Has he figured out that I’m lying? Has he seen through everything?
I don’t know how that’s possible, when even my own family seems to believe it.
But he’s definitely acting a bit weird. Then again, maybe he’s just annoyed he doesn’t get to feel superior or like he’s the only one who’s moved on.
After Daniel and Maya drive away, I turn back to my parents, mentioning that I just came to pick up my car so I can get around while I’m in town. It’s true, but it’s also an escape route—a way to get Asher away from my family before this whole thing implodes.
“Nonsense,” Dad says immediately, waving off the suggestion. “You both need to come inside for a bit. Warm up, have some cocoa. It’s freezing out here.”
“We really should go—” I start, desperate to get Asher alone so I can finally explain what’s happening and thank him for going along with this madness. We haven’t had a single moment without an audience since this whole thing started.
But Mom’s already linking her arm through Asher’s as if they’re old friends, chattering excitedly about how she wants to hear all about his hockey career and how she’ll have to start watching games now that “our girl is dating a real athlete.” Her pride is so obvious, so real, that it makes a lump form in my throat.
“I don’t know the first thing about hockey,” she’s saying as she guides him toward the front door, “but I can’t wait to learn! You’ll have to explain all the rules to me.”
Dad grabs our bags from where Daniel left them on the driveway and falls into step beside them, already launching into a speech about how the Strikers were idiots to let Asher go, while Josephine gathers her kids and I trail behind reluctantly.
Just as we reach the porch steps, my mother stops, gasping so loudly that I actually jump.
“Oh, perfect!” She points up at the doorway, where a sprig of mistletoe hangs from a cheerful red ribbon, swaying slightly in the winter breeze. “I just hung that this morning, and here you two are! What good timing!”
My blood turns to ice. She’s looking at us with expectant joy, her face bright as she clasps her hands together. Behind her, I can see Dad trying not to smile and Josephine watching with obvious interest while shushing the kids’ impatient fidgeting.
My mother gives me a gentle nudge, and I suddenly find myself face to face with Asher, close enough that I can make out the way his blue-gray eyes turn a bit darker near the irises as his smoky, woody scent teases my nostrils again.
I haven’t had a chance to explain things to him or even to thank him, and now I’m standing in front of a stranger, one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen—and my family expects us to kiss.
The panic that rises in my throat is so strong I can barely breathe. How far is he willing to take this act? We’ve already gone so far beyond what any reasonable person would agree to do to help a stranger.
“You don’t have to—” I start to whisper, the words barely audible.
But before I can finish that sentence, Asher’s hand settles at the small of my back, and he leans down, pressing his lips to mine.