Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6)

by Amanda M. Lee

“You did? I must’ve forgotten. Will it have sprinkles?”

  “You know Jerry.” Aidan took on a fond expression. “It’s going to have everything you love most.”

  I patted Griffin’s knee under the table. “That means he’s going to put you in the cake.”

  “Ha, ha.” Despite his earlier worry, Griffin did his best to relax around the dinner table. “So, Mrs. Grimlock, have you kept your ears open for any whispers about anyone breaking into the assisted-living center?”

  Griffin coded the language, but it was clear what he was asking. Katherine narrowed her eyes, suspicious, and openly stared at her son while Griffin pretended not to notice.

  “I’ve been asking around,” Mom replied, darting a glance in Katherine’s direction. “I have contacts on the streets. I don’t have anything concrete yet”

  “You have contacts on the streets?” Katherine seemed intrigued. “Do you live on the streets?”

  Mom balked. “I … um … .”

  “I think she’s asking if you’re homeless, Mom,” Braden noted.

  “Where do you live?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  “In your heart, Aisling,” Mom replied, refusing to lower herself and engage in a snarky argument. “I live in a rental house on the other side of town. As for my contacts … they seem tapped out when it comes to what happened to Aisling. No one has any ideas.”

  “Not on our end either.” Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “No one understands it.”

  “Why should they understand it?” Katherine asked, shaking her head. “It’s terrible. It’s almost unbelievable.”

  “Mom, don’t even go there,” Griffin warned.

  “She can’t help herself, Griffin,” Mom said, mustering a wan smile. “It is a fantastical story.”

  “It definitely is.” Katherine bobbed her head enthusiastically. “When you couple it with a story about a woman who everyone thought was dead showing back up … well … one might think it sounds almost too fantastical to believe.”

  “One might,” Mom echoed, locking gazes with me as she sipped her wine. “So, Katherine, tell me about yourself.”

  Katherine fanned her face, surprised. “Me? Why do you want to know about me?”

  “Because our children are joined at the hips and lips, and that doesn’t appear to be changing anytime soon,” Mom replied, her teeth gleaming as her lips curved. “I think that means we’re going to be part of the same circle for a bit, so … um … tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m very boring and an open book,” Katherine argued. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “Because everyone knows my story now. It’s rather boring.”

  “I don’t know it.”

  “Yes, well, let Griffin tell you.” Mom downed the rest of her wine. “You need to order more wine carried up from the basement, Cormack. I’m sure you don’t have enough for the way I’m feeling.”

  “The basement is off limits,” Dad argued. “You can make do with the wine we already have or go to the drink cart in the parlor.”

  “Nonsense.” Mom wrinkled her nose. “I’ll go down and get some.”

  “The basement is locked, Lily,” Dad growled.

  “I can open it. Good grief. Have you become a wine hoarder?”

  “No, that’s simply where he locked every mirror in the house,” Katherine answered, causing my brothers to suck in unsteady breaths as they stared at their plates. “Then he put a security system on the door. He thought I was asleep the other night when they were doing it, but I saw them. They triple-checked every room in the house to make sure they removed all the mirrors. It seemed weird to me … but no one tells me anything.”

  “Oh.” Mom tapped her chin. “I didn’t think about that. I guess it makes sense.”

  “How does it make sense?” Katherine was understandably confused. “I don’t see how any of this makes sense. You came back from the dead. Aisling almost died … and this is after she announced she saved a young girl’s life and almost died the day I met her. I’m convinced she and Braden might be drunks. Everyone whispers and exchanges looks when they think I’m not looking. This is a very odd house.”

  Well, she wasn’t wrong.

  “So, can I have a glass of wine or is everyone going to freak out if I try?” I asked, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

  “Don’t even try it,” Griffin ordered. “That’s where I draw the line.”

  “That’s what I figured.” I leaned closer to Aidan. “How long until Jerry shows up? I figure a sugar coma has to be better than this.”

  18

  Eighteen

  “Aren’t you going to get some work done?”

  The third day of my home confinement at Grimlock Manor was going to be a test of wills. I’d prepared myself for it. After three days of lazing around, flipping through gossip magazines with Jerry and watching more brainless television than I could fathom, I was ready to start moving around a bit. That wouldn’t happen if Griffin insisted on watching me every second of the day.

  “Not yet,” Griffin replied, readjusting his book on his chest as he rested on the bed next to me. “I probably will get some work done while you’re taking your afternoon nap.”

  I narrowed my eyes, frustrated. “Griffin … .”

  “Aisling, don’t push me.” Griffin was gruff. He didn’t spare me a glance as he flipped the page in his Lee Child book. “I know you want to get up and screw around with your brothers, but you’re still weak.”

  “Weak is a state of mind.”

  “Not when you’ve spent more than a week overcoming an injury,” Griffin shot back. “Now lie down and watch your show.”

  I shot him a dark look as I grabbed the remote. “I’m going to put on the Kardashians if you’re not careful. I’m in the mood to torture somebody.”

  “You’ll only be torturing yourself, because I can tune out almost anything. How do you think I shared a roof with Aidan, Jerry and you for as long as I did?”

  “You make me tired,” I grumbled.

  “Right back at you, baby.”

  I growled in frustration as I threw the remote toward the end of the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Griffin, you know I love you, right?”

  “I do know that.”

  “I can’t stay in this bed one second longer unless we get naked and sweaty.” I knew the announcement would finally earn a reaction from him. I wasn’t disappointed when he pinned me with a hard gaze. “I’m not joking. I’m bored.”

  “Then read a book.”

  “Only if it’s a dirty book and comes with a happy ending thanks to your determined ministrations.”

  Griffin opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut, dumbfounded. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Well, believe it. I need someone to entertain me. I can’t help it. I grew up with four brothers and Jerry. I’m incapable of entertaining myself. You’ll have to do something to perk me up.”

  “I am. I’m not killing you for being such a terrible patient.”

  “That doesn’t count.” I rolled my eyes, not caring in the least how whiny I sounded. “I need some loving.”

  My pathetic complaint was enough to draw a genuine smile. “I do love you, Aisling. That’s why I’m being such a hardass. You need your rest. You might not like it, but I know you agree.”

  “That shows what you know,” I shot back. “I don’t agree at all. You’re supposed to say that you love me and then ravish me until I’m nothing but a puddle of goo and have no choice but to pass out from sheer exhaustion. That’s the way I want to convalesce.”

  I dramatically pressed the back of my hand to my forehead.

  “Life is passing me by.”

  Griffin didn’t move his eyes from my face. I could see him struggle to keep from laughing out of the corner of my eye. I refused to encourage him, though, so I maintained what little dignity I had.

  “I remember what it was like before the accident,” I offered. “There was a lot
of sweaty sex. I miss it so.”

  I waited a few beats to see if he would respond. When he didn’t, I shifted my eyes and frowned. “You’re not even going to play a little? That’s worse than pretending that you’re reading a book. My life sucks. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that … I’m going to marry you.”

  I stilled, my heart skipping a beat as my stomach tumbled. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “I’m sorry … what?”

  Griffin chuckled, clearly enjoying my spastic reaction as my cheeks burned and my head buzzed. “I’m going to marry you. Er, well, actually I should say that I’m going to ask you to marry me. You might not say yes, and I don’t want to make decisions that affect us both if you’re not onboard with the plan.”

  “You’re going to marry me?”

  “Hopefully.”

  “That was your proposal?” And just like that my worry and disbelief turned to anger. “That’s not a proposal. In fact, that’s the weakest proposal I’ve ever heard. You’re not down on one knee. There’s no beautiful ring. Heck, there aren’t even any flowers around to mark the occasion.”

  Griffin remained quiet.

  “I guess it’s a good thing that I never daydreamed about what a proposal would be like, because I would be disappointed,” I groused, picking at imaginary lint on the duvet cover. “That just bit the big one.”

  “That wasn’t a proposal,” Griffin said after a beat. “That was your notice that there will be a proposal.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but I was fairly certain I didn’t like it. “So … what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

  “But not now?”

  “That was definitely not a proposal,” Griffin agreed. “I want you at one-hundred percent when I propose. You’re nowhere near that, no matter how much better you’re feeling.”

  “So … I’m so confused.” I rolled to my side and narrowed my eyes. “Why did you say that to me?”

  “Because I was overwhelmed with love while listening to you complain about me not having sex with you. That’s a complaint I never thought I’d hear, by the way. I considered giving in to your demands, of course. I’m a man, after all. Then I realized some things are more important than sex.”

  “Cake?”

  “You,” Griffin replied, smiling. “I felt the love and I blurted out the marriage part. I’m not sorry I did it, for the record. You fight change because you’re used to getting your own way. This will allow you to come to grips with the fact that I’m going to propose before I do it. That way we won’t have any embarrassing reactions when it happens.”

  If he thought giving me proper notice would stop anything embarrassing from happening he clearly didn’t know me well. “When are you going to propose?”

  “I’m not telling you that,” Griffin replied, closing the book. “I want it to be a surprise.”

  “You told me you were going to do it!”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell you when, did I?” Griffin’s smile was impish as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you dearly. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

  “You could propose now and get it over with,” I suggested.

  “I can’t propose until I ask your father’s permission,” Griffin countered, taking me by surprise again.

  “I had no idea you were such a traditionalist.”

  “I like doing things right,” Griffin explained. “I’m going to ask your father’s permission and plan things so it’s done right. When I propose, you’ll know it. Trust me.”

  “But … .” I heaved a sigh as I dragged a hand through my hair to collect myself. “This is torture. This is your version of torture, isn’t it?”

  Griffin shrugged. “We all have to get our petty joys from somewhere. Now, you mentioned work and I think I’m going to get some done because you’re not going to settle enough for me to read my book. I’m going into the library down the hall so I won’t be distracted.”

  “Go. I have no need of you.” I waved him off, my mind kicking into overdrive.

  “I will still be close enough to know if you do something you’re not supposed to do,” Griffin warned. “That means you stay in this bed unless you have to go to the bathroom. If you want food, you pick up the phone and call the kitchen. If you want entertainment, the remote is right there.”

  “You’re a freaking sadist,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn’t believe he dropped a bomb like that, saying he intended to propose eventually, and then opted to leave me to my own devices.

  “I love you, Aisling.” Griffin lowered his voice and rubbed his nose against my cheek. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I need you to know that.”

  “I know that.” I sobered a bit. “You’re still a freaking sadist.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “YOU LOOK a little bit crazy.”

  Cillian offered me a wan smile as he hovered in my bedroom doorway, a huge leather-bound book clasped in his hand.

  “I’m feeling a little crazy,” I admitted, turning my attention to him. “Griffin still has me on lockdown, and I’m feeling petulant.”

  “I can tell.” Cillian shuffled into the room, his shoulder-length black hair gleaming under the muted lights. “What are you watching?”

  “Fuller House.”

  “You must be desperate.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Do you want some company?”

  I brightened at the suggestion. I needed someone to talk to, and as much as I loved Jerry and told him all of my innermost desires, today I needed someone quiet and who could keep a secret. If everyone in the family found out Griffin planned to propose before he did, things would get out of hand … and quickly. “Yes, please.”

  Cillian grinned as he crossed the room, trying to be gentle as he climbed next to me on the bed and got comfortable. He stared at the television a moment but ultimately focused on me. “We haven’t talked much since you got out of the hospital. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “How are you really feeling?”

  “Physically I feel a little tired, but I think that would abate if Griffin would let me get up and move around a little bit,” I replied. “Lying in bed is a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. The more you lay around, the more tired you feel.”

  “I guess that’s a possibility,” Cillian conceded, licking his lips. “Of course, you aren’t suffering from the cold or flu. You were hit so hard that you lost consciousness … for days. The doctor couldn’t explain why you were out so long. Everyone was terrified, and no one more than Griffin.”

  “I get that.”

  “I don’t think you do,” Cillian argued. “I know you love him … and you get him … but he lost it when you went down. Dad met Aidan at the hospital. Aidan rode with you in the ambulance. We didn’t call Griffin until almost two hours after you were admitted. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head, my stomach flopping. “That doesn’t seem right. I … why didn’t Dad call?”

  “You’ll have to ask him. I don’t believe it stemmed from anything territorial, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I wasn’t worried about it until you mentioned it.”

  “I’m good like that.” Cillian flicked my ear, amused. “Griffin was upset when he first came to the hospital, but he’s become used to your little ailments. He knows you get banged around some, and not always by bad guys. We’re rough with you, too.”

  “I’m the fifth Grimlock brother, right?” That was a joke from when we were kids. There was a time I didn’t like being the only girl and insisted I was a boy. My parents indulged me, letting me pretend I was a boy until I tired of it. In the end it turned out I preferred being the only girl because I stood out from the pack.

  “You’re my favorite sister,” Cillian corrected. “I stood in the lobby and watched Dad explain what w
as going on to Griffin. I think Dad was frightened to tell him. When Griffin realized that you were seriously hurt – that you could die from your injuries – he didn’t get angry and yell. He didn’t blame Dad for not calling him. He simply sank to the floor and sat there for a long time.”

  I couldn’t imagine that. Griffin was a man of action. He never did nothing. “But … .”

  “We were stuck in the lobby for hours, kid,” Cillian continued, cutting me off. “All we knew is that you were in serious trouble. The doctor told us that much. We paced. No one talked. Jerry melted down without saying a word, crying so hard that Griffin sat next to him and held his hand for almost two hours.

  “Then the doctor came and we were stuck in that horrible limbo where we needed to know your condition but were terrified to hear it,” he continued. “We didn’t want to know if something bad happened, yet we desperately needed to know that you were okay. It was only about five seconds, but it felt like five years.”

  “I’m okay,” I reminded him, gripping his hand. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t know that then,” Cillian pointed out. “The doctor told us you were going to be all right. He was sure of it. He also told us you should regain consciousness in two hours and that if you didn’t it meant something was wrong. You didn’t regain consciousness for days, kid. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

  “I don’t. I’ve been thinking about it, though.”

  “And what have you come up with?”

  “The mirror monster burned me when it put its hands on me,” I replied. “Maybe I didn’t wake up because it did something else to me, something we didn’t realize it was doing.”

  Cillian cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s interesting. I’ve been looking for information on our friend and coming up empty at every turn.” He shook the book on his lap for emphasis. “I never considered that you didn’t wake up right away because something mystical happened to you.”

  “I know, but that’s what I think happened,” I said. “I had no idea how much time passed. I thought it was a few hours at most. I was kind of floating in my own head, if that makes sense. I heard you guys talking. I went toward your voices and I woke up … but it seemed harder than it probably should’ve been.”