Chapter 5
Harrison
Istep out of the jewelry store, arms full of wrapped boxes, satisfaction filling my soul.
The blast of sub-arctic air should knock the smile right off my face.
It doesn’t.
I’m too full of warmth to feel it. Might be the bourbon. Might be the decision I just made. One that should have me pacing holes into the sidewalk. Or breaking out in hives.
Instead, I’m grinning like a loon.
Cloud nine and climbing.
The alarm on my watch goes off.
Shit.
It’s late.
Really late.
The kids will be home soon, and half the stuff in these bags is theirs. Which means I need to get home, hide everything, and act like I’ve had a completely normal, boring day.
I pull out my phone, queueing up a Lyft, when—
“Need a ride?” a woman hollers from the street.
I glance up.
Hannah’s got her window down, beaming.
My sister’s timing is impeccable.
I jog over and climb in, sliding into the back seat next to Mrs. D.
Zac pulls out as Hannah turns in her seat, already on me. “Do my eyes deceiveth me? Or did you just walk out of a jewelry store?”
Well, hell. I’m screwed.
Mrs. D. pats my hand immediately. “I’m sure you got me something nice.” She winks.
I huff out a laugh. “Anything for you. Just say the word.” It’s the least I owe the woman who drops everything to watch my kids when Hannah’s unavailable.
Mrs. D. leans back, studying me. Then her gaze drops to the bags at my feet. “Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The bag from the jewelry store.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” I say, smooth and innocent. Academy Award–worthy, really.
“Yeah,” Zac cuts in, eyes flicking to me in the rearview. “There wouldn’t be a bag if he’s having something custom made.” A beat. “Like… a ring.”
Denying it would be pointless. These three know me better than the Pope knows the Bible.
I blow out a breath. “You’re not… wrong.”
Hannah’s squeal hits the range of a fire alarm two inches from my head. “I knew it!” She bounces in her seat, twisting around. “When are you giving it to her?”
I rub my ear. “One sec. My watch just warned me about long term hearing loss.”
“Do not keep me in suspense. When? How? Where? And… may I assume I’m consulting on this?”
“I’m… not sure.”
Her whole face shifts. “What do you mean you’re not sure?” Scandalized, she presses harder. “You’ve been circling this forever.”
“It hasn’t been forever,” I correct her. “It’s been a month. One month. That’s how long I’ve known her, Hannah.” I glance out the window. “And it’s not like I can just take off.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” Did her last brain cell just quit mid-shift? “Christmas, Hannah. Ring a bell? I’m not leaving the kids at Christmas.”
“Then bring them with you,” Mrs. D. offers, because apparently insanity is contagious.
“That’s not happening,” I say, flat.
No way in hell. Not with the chance that Pix has come to her senses and decided I’m a hard pass.
Hannah rolls her eyes. “I’ve covered for you plenty of Christmases, Harrison.”
“Yes, you did. While I was deployed,” I shoot back. “Which is exactly why I’d sooner take another bullet than miss another holiday with my kids.”
“Honestly?” Hannah cuts in. “I don’t think they’ll miss you.”
I blink. “Really, Ms. Outside Voice?”
“She’s saying we’ll make sure they don’t.” Zac shrugs.
I meet his gaze in the mirror. Is he serious?
I glare.
Mrs. D. smiles, soft and entirely unapologetic. “It’s not our fault that whenever you’re away, we spoil them a little extra.”
I arch a brow. “A little extra? The last time I was out of town, Zac bought them top-of-the-line gaming headsets, Hannah turned their rooms into a Pinterest board, and you”—I point at her sweet button nose—“bake for them like you’re carb-loading an army.”
“Spoiling children is a family obligation.” She shrugs, small and innocent. “Anything less would be like making chocolate chip cookies and not doubling the chocolate chips.”
She shifts in her seat, turning slightly toward me. Her expression goes soft in that quiet, maternal way of hers. “And you know I love watching them. I’m happy to. Anytime.”
The truth is, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Not that I’m about to admit that out loud.
Zac’s grin widens. “All we’re saying is we’ll keep them extra busy. So they won’t miss you.”
“I already know where this is going, Zac. If that’s code for an all-night Halo rematch, forget it. Connor won fair and square.”
He slumps behind the wheel. “Temporary victory,” he mutters.
“Oh, that reminds me…” Hannah adds coyly. “While you and Zac were having lunch, we were hiding some gifts for the kids in your house. And they’re not from us.”
I smile, slow and confident. “Relax, Mrs. Claus. As far as the kids are concerned, those came straight from the North Pole.”
She and Zac exchange a conspiratorial look. I’m not sure what that means… and I’m not sure I want to find out.
The second he slows at the house, I’m out of the car before their collective mind control kicks in.
Hannah rolls down her window. “Couldn’t you at least ask them?” she chirps.
I roll my eyes. “Ask them what, Banana-Head?”
“If they’re okay with you leaving for a few days.”
“Fine. Maybe I will.”
I definitely won’t.
I shut the back door and wave as they drive off.
Home team: one.
Team crazy: zero.