12. Ashley #2
He let out a loud sigh before taking the bowl and getting to work.
Ashley chanced a peep at Carter, who was busying himself with the garland on the fireplace mantel.
His job had nothing to do with actual housework, but he always kept his hands busy when he was uncomfortable.
She wanted to offer him a place at the table, so they worked together on the gingerbread house.
It would be a statement to everyone in the room, proving Grandpa right—that Carter was as much a part of this family as everyone else, but it made no sense for her to do it. Not now, at least. She’d forfeited that right years ago.
He was wearing another suit tailored perfect to his frame, highlighting the muscles of his arms. It had been so long since she touched him, felt his skin beneath her touch. She wondered how much harder he was now and if he had lines that cut across his stomach, accentuating his abs.
Heat curled low in her gut at the thought.
The peppermint popped from her hand into the air, and she quickly recovered the hard candy before it rolled across the table.
Carter’s gaze cut to hers, but she focused on the roofline of her gingerbread house.
She pressed the peppermint into place with a little too much force, nearly collapsing the entire structure. She pulled back and inhaled deeply.
She glanced up from her house in his direction again and instantly locked eyes with him.
She swallowed at that same unbearable intensity.
It didn’t matter how much time had passed, nor the fact they hadn’t spoken in almost a decade.
And it didn’t matter that every interaction between them had been wrapped in tension and old wounds.
One look from him still melted her insides.
His gaze dipped to her lips before he looked away and adjusted the garland again. Ashley’s heart stuttered.
“Oh my God,” Tori whispered loudly.
Ashley brought her attention back to the table. “What?”
Tori nodded toward Cole’s gingerbread house… or rather what remained of it. One entire section had collapsed under the weight of frosting. Ashley almost expected him to cry like he did so many Christmases ago.
Cole stared at it in confusion. “It was structurally sound five minutes ago. I don’t know what happened.”
“You’re starting to sound like your father,” Marilyn muttered before taking another sip of her almost empty wine glass.
A humorless laugh slipped from him as he brought his eyes from the remains of his gingerbread house to his mother. “I wouldn’t know. I never met the man.”
“Consider yourself lucky.”
Another dreaded bout of silence descended upon the table.
Cole’s jaw tightened, lips curved into a sneer. “Because you had nothing to do with him taking off.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Why? Because the truth hurts?” He shoved the broken gingerbread wall aside. “Or because nobody can have a real conversation in this family.”
“Because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Oh really. Then enlighten me, Mother.”
A simmering rage glowed behind Marilyn’s eyes as she glared across the table at him. “Some things are better left in the past.”
“Easy for you to say when it’s a past you know and I know nothing about. Just fucking tell me why you kept me from my own father.”
Marilyn pushed from her seat, the loud clatter of her chair falling to the floor, echoed through the deadly silent dining room. “We’re done here.”
She snatched the bottle of wine off the table and stormed from the room in one fluent motion.
Cole slammed back in his chair, his shoulders rigid with frustration. “She’s unbelievable. You see that?” He pointed toward the doorway Marilyn had disappeared through.
“Maybe it wasn’t the best time to bring it up,” Gabe said.
“Easy for you to fucking say when your father is sitting right there.”
Gabe’s lips parted, but before he could say anything, Dad beat him to it.
“Because I stayed, which is more than your father can say,” Dad said matter-of-factly.
Ashley’s eyes widened at her father’s words, shock flooding through her.
Ashley hardly recognized this blunt honesty.
Maybe holding back for so long, he was just done.
Ashley couldn’t blame him. Maybe they all spent years pretending everything was fine.
A Wetherby family tradition, really. That’s why Grandpa had finally unloaded on everyone at Grandma Lily’s funeral.
Why Aunt Marilyn had hurled a bottle of whiskey at the wall when his words hit a little too close to home.
Aunt Marilyn rarely mentioned Cole’s father. Ashley had been too young to remember the man. All she knew were the random snippets mentioned over the years, but Cole had a right to know.
Dad picked up a couple of green gumdrops and stacked them like a tree against his house, then looked up at Cole. “So maybe stop acting like your mother is some horrible woman who kept you from your father and start realizing she did the best she could for you.”
Cole scoffed. “Of course you’re defending her. You’re her brother. You all stand up for each other even when you know the other one is being an asshole.”
Dad’s expression hardened; the easygoing warmth Ashley had always known disappeared. “The only asshole I see right now is you.”
This time Ashley’s gasp cut across the room. Dad hated confrontation. He’d spent Ashley’s entire childhood smoothing over arguments before voices could rise. It’s why he and Mom had worked for so long. He’d been the one willing to swallow his own feelings to keep the peace.
Cole shot up from his chair, glaring down at Dad. Dad didn’t budge, just focused on placing red and green hard candies along the perimeter of his gingerbread house.
Cole stood like a stone-cold gargoyle, staring and waiting. Ashley caught Taylor’s eye across the table; she bit her lip and shrugged.
Gabe’s gaze silently swung between Cole and Dad. Ashley waited for Gabe to jump in and take the lead, as he always did. He didn’t. For once he looked as confused as everyone else. If Gabe didn’t know how to fix this, maybe no one did.
“Cole.” Tori rested her hand on Cole’s shoulder, and he cut his glare toward her.
“What?”