“I could’ve sworn,” my dad says from his leaning stance against the wall, “that I saw something for you underneath this tiny little Christmas tree.” He nods to the two-foot-tall tree I bought last night that’s sparsely decorated and sitting on a bookcase in front of the living room window.
Nearly trembling with excitement, Casey looks from my dad to hers, and as soon as he nods, giving her the “okay,” she trots over to the Christmas tree and everyone is chatting and fawning over her.
“Take off your coat, pumpkin.”
“What a pretty dress you have on, Casey.”
“Were you a good girl this year? Was Santa good to you?”
“Can we talk?” Colton’s voice sobers me and I turn around to face him.
“Um …” I glance over my shoulder, knowing they’re waiting for me to eat, when Sam’s gaze meets mine. She nods. “Yeah, sure,” I say and walk down the hall toward my room. My balance wavers and my mind spins. There’s so much to say, but I can’t seem to formulate a single, cohesive thought. I can only grasp onto the hope that blooms so big and encompassing my body won’t stop shaking.
Glancing around at my untidy room, Colton steps inside. If I’m not mistaken, he looks nervous, too. But his being here could be just a friendly gesture or peace offering since we’re coworkers, so I try not to get my hopes too high as I hold my breath. I close the door, slowly turning around to face him.
“You never called me back,” he says absently.
“I what?”
He scans my face, searches my eyes. “He answered your phone—”
“He who?”
“—and then I couldn’t get ahold of you … you never called me back.”
Although I’m shaking my head in confusion, Colton’s features are smooth, and the anger that darkened his eyes the last time I saw him is gone. It takes a moment for me to catch up, and the fog that has filled my head for days finally begins to lift.
My new phone.
My drunken night.
The way he’d looked at David.
And then I suddenly and very vaguely remember David telling me that my boyfriend had called the night I passed out over the toilet—that I’d told him I didn’t have a boyfriend. Finally, I gasp in understanding and my hands fly to my mouth. “Oh my God.” I shake my head. “I didn’t even think—” I cover my face and want to run and hide for being so stupid. “You thought … wait”—I hold my hand up—“I don’t even want to know what you thought.” Colton is silent for too long, so I finally force myself to drop my hands and look at him.
There’s a pained expression on his face, and I wonder if there’s been too much damage done to fix things now. “I didn’t know you called—I mean, I knew, but I didn’t remember. So much has happened—I’m so stupid, this is all my fault.” I turn away and walk to my vanity, unable to look at him as heat and regret flood through me. “No wonder you hate me.”
I stand there, lost in a monsoon of reproachful thoughts and regrets when I feel the air shift and Colton steps up behind me. With a steadying breath, I meet his gaze in the mirror. “I don’t hate you, Mac. Trust me, I’ve tried.” His hand trails down my arm and he gently turns me around to face him. “It just took me a while to figure it all out.” His mouth curves in a small smile.
“How did you—figure it out, I mean.”
Colton runs his fingers through his hair, a single strand falling out of place, and lets out a deep breath. “Christmas elves, I guess you could say.” Amusement flits across his face at my confusion. “It was a mixture of Kylie, your dad, and David, actually. It seems we were both being dense.”
His gaze is soft and searching and his hand comes up and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words a salve to my aching, broken heart.
I refuse to cry as I take a step closer. “I’m sorry too.”
When Colton leans in and presses a soft, asking kiss against my mouth, relief banishes the anxiety and tension from my body. For the first time in days I feel like I’m floating again. I wrap my arms around him, and he squeezes me closer. “I missed you so much,” he breathes, then pulls in a deep breath.
I hiccup-laugh. “I missed you, too.” His coat is cold against my cheek as I nestle into the crook of his neck, done being worried about my damn makeup. “I really thought you hated me.”
He shakes his head. “The last week would’ve been a helluva lot easier if I had.”
I pull away, wiping the dampness from my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about what we are or—”
His thumb brushes my lips to silence me and he searches my face. “I should’ve told you how I feel, that I care about you and I want to be with you. Not being able to talk to you or see you this last week has taught me how much I mean that.” Colton’s not smiling or flippant. He’s focused on me, lost in some tumultuous thought. “Mac,” he whispers, “I love you.” I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to say anything else, that I don’t care what we are as long as we’re together, but he presses his finger against my lips again. “You asked me what we are the other night, so just listen, okay?”
Blinking, I nod.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” He brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheek and my eyes flit closed. I nearly melt in the warmth of his palm. “I don’t want to be the reason you cry.” Those words alone unleash a few hot, happy tears that trickle down my face. “I want to see you smile and be playful, and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Slowly, with the intention of savoring every single second, I pull him in for a kiss. “Let’s never fight again,” I breathe against his mouth. Our lips linger. The air around us buzzes. I feel as if I could stand in this moment forever with him and never grow tired of it.
He chuckles softly. “That’s a tall order,” he rasps and takes my chin between his fingers, looking at me. “I knew the moment I first saw you—flustered and glaring at me—you’d be nothing but trouble. And I was right, but you’re worth every aggravating moment.”
I smile against his kiss. “I better be.”
We get lost in one another for a few more moments until my dad’s laughter rumbles down the hallway, bringing with it the reality that everyone is waiting for us.
“We should get back out there,” I say, and I help Colton out of his coat.
“No kidding. I should save the guys before Casey starts guilting them into letting her paint their fingernails.”
“Ha!” I open the door. “Let me guess, she’s already practiced on you?”
“Twice,” he confesses, and he takes my hand as we walk down the hall, greeted by laughing, smiling faces. My heart warms and fills with happiness as I realize just how perfect Christmas Day turned out to be.
Epilogue
MAC
New Year’s Eve
“Mom,” Colton says, pointing to the spot on the couch beside his dad, Henry. “Come sit down, we have something for you and Dad.” Casey’s handmade banner is pinned on the wall above. It reads “Happy New Year,” only the R is backward and the Y looks more like a V, but it’s perfect all the same. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I settle into my seat in front of the fire.
“They put this stuff on network television now?” Henry balks at the TV screen as Beyoncé shakes her thing on stage in the center of Times Square. He leans in a little closer.
More than somewhat amused, I try to suppress a laugh. “So, you don’t watch much television?” The longer I’m around Colton’s parents, the more I realize how similar Colton and his father actually are.
Henry shakes his head, barely paying attention to anything but the screen.
“Football on Thanksgiving,” Cindy explains as she makes her way out of the kitchen with a fresh drink in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself.”
Colton disappears into the hallway and I hear him wrangling up Casey.
“No, not at all. In fact, I think Colton bought the gin
for you.”
“Come on, sweetheart,” Henry says, and he pats the open cushion beside him.
“I’m coming, dear. I’m an old lady, give me a minute.” She smiles to herself and wiggles into the corner of the sofa with a contented smile.
Casey runs in from her bedroom, excited despite the late hour. She rearranges me so she can curl up in my lap, though she refuses to close her eyes with her grandparents here. Colton walks over to the bookshelf where there’s a wrapped gift for his parents.
Colton offers the wrapped gift to Casey, but she shakes her head. “That’s okay, Daddy. You can give it to them.”
“You sure?”
She nods and smiles. Yep, she’s exhausted. I wink at Colton and tighten my arms around Casey as she wraps a strand of my hair around her tiny finger.
“A late Christmas gift,” Colton says and he hands his mother the simply wrapped present in brown paper. No bows or pretenses.
Cindy blinks at him. “You didn’t have to get us anything,” she says, her voice tight with emotion.
“We wanted to,” he says easily.
Cindy begins to peel the paper away, delicately, and I wonder when they last had Christmas together as a family. Or any holidays, for that matter. I’ve found myself wondering many things throughout the night. Watching the three of them navigate this new relationship—noticing them falter and grow uneasy only to fall back into a comfortable rhythm—is an unexpected, beautiful gift from Colton, and being a part of it has nearly brought me to happy tears more than once tonight.
“Well,” Cindy says, finally peeling back a corner of the paper. “It’s a frame …” She smiles, like she already knows what it is. With one final tear, the paper falls to her feet on the floor and she stares at the eight-by-ten frame in silence. Henry leans in and he takes his wife’s hand, a small smile curving his usually pursed lips.
“Do you think they like it?” Casey whispers, loudly.
“I hope so,” I whisper back.
Cindy looks up and locks eyes with her son, sitting at the other end of the couch. Unshed tears make her eyes shiny and bright. “This is absolutely precious, Colton,” she says. “Thank you.”
Colton nods over to me and Casey. “Mac took the photo. It was her idea, actually.”
Cindy’s gaze shifts to me and she quickly wipes away a silent tear and smiles. She turns the frame to face me. A black and white photo of Colton with Casey in his arms smiles back at me. “Thank you, Mac. I have just the place for it.”
“You’re welcome. There are others you might want copies of, too. I’d be happy to send you home with some.”
“Would you? That would be wonderful.” Cindy fans herself and stares at the photo again. “I don’t have any photos of them. You have no idea how—”
“Thank you, both,” Henry says, rubbing his wife’s back. He glances between us and then locks eyes with Casey. “You sure know how to take a great photo, kiddo.”
There’s a long, heavy pause while Colton’s parents stare at the image of their son and his daughter a few moments longer. Colton looks at me and winks, and since I’ve never been all that great with pregnant silences, I lean in to whisper in Casey’s ear. “Have you shown your grandma your new dollhouse?”
She pops up. “Grandma!”
“Yes, sweetheart?” Cindy forces her gaze away from the picture frame.
“Come see my dollhouse! Daddy made it for me for Christmas.”
“He did?” Colton helps her up out of the overstuffed couch. Anxiously, Casey reaches for her hand and leads her, rather quickly, into her bedroom. “Slow down, dear, I’m an old woman.”
“You’re not that old, Cindy, Jesus. What am I, ancient?” Henry mutters and Colton offers him another Scotch. “Well, I’m not driving anywhere tonight, so why not?”
Just then, my cell phone rings and I grab it off the coffee table. When I see Nick’s silly grin flashing on the screen, I smile. “Hey, you, are you off early? Are you on your way?”
The background noise is a little garbled and I realize he’s driving. “I’m off, but I’m not going to make it before the ball drops.” His voice is tentative and maybe even a little distracted.
“Is everything okay?” I ask almost frantically as I step into the kitchen so I can hear better.
I hear a familiar voice in the background. “—not. I can’t believe you.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “Nick?”
“Yeah, well—no. It will be, though. I’m helping Bethany find Jesse.”
“Wait, what? What happened? He’s missing?” I watch the time change on the television screen. Another minute closer to the New Year. “It’s almost midnight. Did you call the police?”
There’s rustling and I hear Bethany yelling at someone in the background. “No, not yet. We think we know where he is. I’ll fill you in later, Mac. I just wanted you to know. I gotta go.”
“Call me later, Nick. Please. I want to know he’s okay.”
My thoughts are frantic, wondering what the hell a kid was doing out in the middle of the night anyway and how she could misplace him. And why the hell did she go to Nick for help?
“I will, and don’t … just don’t jump to any conclusion, Mac.” The sound of his voice is pained and conflicted. Nick knows me well enough to assume I’d easily go into blaming-Bethany mode. He was asking me to trust him.
So, I do. “I won’t. Please just keep me posted.”
“I will. I gotta go.”
The call drops and I stare at the screen for a minute, worrying about Jesse—about Nick. Maybe even about Bethany. I’ve seen her with Jesse; she wouldn’t be so irresponsible as to simply lose her little brother.
Heavy footsteps stop behind me. “Is everything okay?” Colton asks quietly, his breath warm and soft against my ear.
I shake my head. “Well, I hope it will be.” I turn around and meet his concerned expression, imagining Casey out on a freezing, crazy night like this. “This girl we know … her little brother is missing.” My chest tightens to imagine Jesse, probably scared wherever he is and maybe even alone.
Colton rubs my arms in reassurance and pulls me against him.
“Nick’s helping her find him. He said he’ll call me back when he can.”
“Is there anything we can do?” he asks, his voice low as he glances at his parents and Casey in the living room, unaware.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. But don’t say anything, I don’t want anyone else to worry.”
Colton nods. “Keep your phone on you.” He leans down and kisses my temple. “Nick’s smart—they’ll find him or he’ll figure out how.”
I nod, offering him a weak smile. “I know.” And I do, and I’m sure everything will be fine, but the fact that Nick’s the one who’s helping Bethany—that he’s once again sucked into her life in some strange way—worries me.
As minutes tick on and the clock is closer to striking midnight, I gather myself, wanting this night to be special for Colton and his parents, because he deserves it. We pour some bubbles and a smidge of cider for Casey, and we watch the ball start its descent. Casey’s excitement, the happiness that crinkles Colton’s mother’s face, brings me back to this moment of family and gratitude. I smile, genuinely, as the ball drops farther and farther.
“FOUR …” We count in unison. “THREE … TWO … ONE … HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Henry kisses my cheek and gives me a bear hug, and Cindy wraps her arms around me next, whispering a breathy “Thank you, darling” in my ear as she tries to keep her emotions at bay. “Happy New Year.”
I embrace her tighter. “Thank you for having a wonderful son.” I smile at her as we pull away. She studies me a moment and runs her hand over my hair before she squeezes my upper arm, affection and gratitude filling her eyes.
Colton steps out of an embrace with his father and meets my gaze. His blue eyes are fixed and unwavering on me as he leans down and kisses me, gently, unrushed, but containing more sentiment than I’v
e ever felt—a make-your-toes-curl-and-your-heart-flutter sort of kiss. When he finally eases away, I’m breathless. “Happy New Year,” he breathes.
“Happy New Year,” I mouth, strangely unable to catch my breath.
After Colton’s parents go back to their bed and breakfast, and Nick texts me, reporting they’d found Jesse and he would fill me in later, Colton and I lie in bed. My mind is still too full for sleep and I think about how changeable things can be. Feeling a strange sense of calm, I let out a breath and finally allow myself to really unwind.
“What are you thinking about?” Colton whispers. The rumble of his voice and the reality that he’s lying behind me—that we’re an us—makes me smile.
“Life,” I finally say. “Change and how it can be so unexpected and scary at first, but somehow … it works itself out.”
“True.” I think I detect a hint of amusement in his voice, but he doesn’t say anything else.
The moon creeps further out of sight, the silvery light filtering through the windows moving with it. “What are you thinking about?” I whisper.
When Colton doesn’t answer, I peer over my shoulder to see if he’s fallen asleep. His eyes are open and he blinks, watching me. I turn onto my side to face him, balling my pillow up under my head, like his.
“Well?”
“I think I’m losing my mind a little,” he says. I detect a secret smile in his voice.
“Uh-oh, and why’s that?”
“Because I want to marry you.”
I pause.
He blinks. His gaze is keen but soft, and there’s no longer a smile in his expression. He’s serious.
“You what?” I breathe.
This time his cheek twitches and his mouth curves ever so slightly. “Totally insane, I know. I’m thinking about seeing a doctor.” I scowl at him and reach for another pillow to chuck at him. His hands shoot up in surrender. “I’m joking—I’m only joking,” he says with a laugh. “About the insane part.”
My chest heaves a little as I wait in uncertainty. “Only the insane part?” I ask hoarsely. As always, there are dozens of surmounting questions I’m itching to ask, and I yearn to know what thoughts are behind his shrewd, assessing gaze. He’s summing me up, gauging my reaction. Waiting for something, though I’m not sure what. There’s no coldness in his eyes now, no walls, and my heartbeat quickens as I begin to grasp how real and pivotal this moment is—that he might be serious. “Don’t you think you should—”
Nothing But Trouble (A Saratoga Falls Love Story Book 2) Page 34