Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Drawing in a deep breath, Ashlyn gave herself a few seconds to pull herself together.
This had become her custom over the last several months whenever she was going to be spending time with Grant and his kids.
It was getting increasingly difficult to deal with this.
Despite the fact that it had been almost seven months since Grant saved her life and asked her out, Lindsay hadn't budged one tiny little bit. In fact, things had gotten much worse, although she hadn't told Grant about it.
Somehow, Lindsay had gotten hold of Ashlyn’s number and was constantly blowing up her phone with a barrage of nasty messages.
Since she was quite literally a millionaire in her own right, the teenager couldn’t call her a gold digger, so instead Lindsay had been calling her a whore, saying she was selling her rich self to Grant for time and attention.
While of course she knew none of that was true, the language the girl used, the venom in her tone, the pure hatred, it was wearing her down, making her wonder if maybe this was just never going to work out.
Seven months and no changes.
How much longer were they supposed to give things?
Grant had Lindsay in therapy since the day on the boat last summer when Lindsay had thrown overboard the homemade treats Ashlyn had painstakingly made for her.
It didn't seem to help. Instead of getting less angry and more used to the idea of her dad dating, Lindsay was just doubling down and getting more and more furious.
The last thing Ashlyn wanted was for Grant to lose his daughter because of her.
Over the last couple of months, the teenager’s anger bled over toward her dad and her brother, and Ashlyn had found herself praying for a Christmas miracle.
Walking away from Grant would be heartbreaking.
She already loved him, but she was feeling more selfish by the day, no matter how many times Grant apologized for his daughter’s behavior and asked her not to give up on them yet.
She didn't want to, but this was slowly killing all of them, and it already felt like things were hopeless.
“Christmas miracle needed desperately,” she murmured to the universe as she walked up the path to Grant’s front door.
It was obvious he’d known she was out there, because the door opened as soon as she was on the porch, before she even had a chance to ring the bell.
“Sorry,” she said immediately, not knowing if he’d seen her just standing out there.
“Don’t apologize, honey,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm so sorry things haven’t improved. I hate that you're hurting.”
“It’s not your fault,” she assured him, pressing her face to his neck and breathing in his comforting woodsy scent.
“Since I'm the one who raised Lindsay, I can pretty much say it is.”
Hating the recrimination in his tone, she nuzzled his neck and then lifted her head so she could meet his gaze. “It’s not. This is just hard, and—”
Touching a finger to her lips, he silenced her, the pain in his eyes making her chest ache. “No ands. Please,” he begged.
“We have to accept—”
“We don’t.”
“I don’t want you to lose your daughter.”
“I don’t want to lose either of you.”
Ashlyn could see that was true, and even though they were yet to exchange I love yous she could see that he loved her. That knowledge buoyed her a little, and she offered him the biggest smile she could muster. “We can hang in there a little longer.”
“Thank you, I know how hard this is for you.” Pulling her in for a quick kiss, he took her hand and guided her down to the family room.
“You guys have been busy,” she said when she saw that their tree was up, it had lights on it, and there were boxes of decorations sitting open, stacked around it.
“I would have asked you to join us to decorate, but doing the tree was something Lindsay used to love doing with her mom, and now the three of us do it together every year. Given how things are, I thought it might be better to stick with that this year.”
“You don’t have to explain, that’s fine,” she rushed to assure him. The last thing she wanted was for any of the three of them to feel she was forcing her way in where she wasn't wanted.
“Wasn't going to leave you out of this tradition, though,” he said, giving her a somewhat forced smile as he went to the kitchen counter and picked up a basket. It was red and white checked, with little felt Christmas trees, Santa hats, holly, and Santas circling it.
“That’s adorable, what is it?”
“Every year we do a special Christmas advent, each day in December, we don’t just eat a piece of chocolate, we do something Christmassy.
I thought maybe the kids would have grown out of it by now.
Linday is almost sixteen and Kevin just turned thirteen last month, but they still said they wanted to do it. ”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.”
“Day one is choosing our secret Santas.”
Hearing that had her heart dropping. There was no way this was going to work out. Lindsay wouldn't want her to be part of this.
“Grant—”
“We’re doing it,” he said, cutting her off, voice fierce. “Kids, come downstairs, please.”
“She’s not going to—”
“She has to accept that this is happening. I love my daughter, and I’m falling for you, I have been taking things slow, but I won't let her have the power to dictate to me who can be in my life and who can’t.”
Ashlyn nodded, but her stomach cramped when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Then plummeted further when the kids came into view, and Lindsay’s smile dropped, replaced by a sneer, when the girl saw her.
“Time to pick our secret Santas,” Grant said, voice forced with cheerfulness.
“Dad, she’s not doing it with us,” Lindsay immediately protested.
“Don’t test me on this, Linds,” Grant told his daughter, managing to keep his voice calm but firm.
“I don’t care if Ashlyn joins in,” Kevin piped up, and both she and Grant shot the boy grateful smiles.
“Because you're a traitor to mom. You both are,” Lindsay screeched, but her father simply held up the basket she presumed had all their names on bits of paper inside.
“You can go first, Lindsay.”
There must have been a note in her father’s voice that said he wasn't compromising, because Lindsay huffed, but stomped over and angrily snatched her bit of paper.
“You're next, honey.” Grant held the basket in front of her, and Ashlyn summoned a smile as she reached in and took her piece of paper.
Kevin went next, followed by Grant. Then he set the basket back down on the kitchen counter and included them all in his smile.
“Rules are you can't spend more than ten dollars, the gift has to be something thoughtful, not generic like candy. And we exchange the gifts on Christmas Eve,” Grant explained for her benefit. “Everyone, unfold your paper and see who you got.”
With trembling fingers, Ashlyn unfolded hers, dread clogging her throat when she saw the name printed there.
Lindsay.
Because that wasn't going to end in disaster.