by Kaylee Ryan
“Jealous, baby brother?” Meghan teases.
His eyes find mine. “Absolutely.”
“He’s a toddler,” Paul, Meghan’s husband, says, joining us and the conversation.
“That’s my girl,” Mark counters.
I feel an arm around my opposite shoulder of where Isaac is laying. Turning my head, I see Keith, Mark’s dad, standing there grinning. “Not just the younger ones, son,” he says, pulling me and Isaac into him. “Good to see you,” he says, low just for me.
“Thank you for having me,” I tell him.
“Dad,” Mark says with a mock glare.
“Hey, the old man’s still got it.” Keith chuckles, before releasing me and walking off toward the kitchen.
“Come and get it,” his mom calls out.
Meghan and Paul take the kids to get them set up in their high chairs, leaving Mark and me alone. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into him. “I can’t take you anywhere.” He grins. “Can’t even trust my family with my girl.”
He’s been doing that a lot lately, referring to me as his. We still haven’t had that talk, so he doesn’t know that I’m madly in love with him. However, over the last few weeks, I’m not as worried that he doesn’t feel the same. His actions have proven he’s where he wants to be. Unless he feels sorry for me? I immediately dismiss that idea. Mark’s not the kind of guy who says or does things he doesn’t mean. He’s the real deal. A “what you see is what you get” kind of guy.
The kitchen island is covered in food, set up buffet style. Mark and I are at the back of the line, the last two to grab a plate and start filling it. I haven’t had much of an appetite the last few weeks, but everything looks and smells amazing. Suddenly, I’m starving. Mark snags us both a bottle of water from the fridge, and I follow him to the large dining room. His dad sits at the head of the table, Theresa sits to his left, with Imogen in her high chair, then Meghan has Isaac beside her, and Paul’s at the opposite end of Keith. Mark stops, and I almost crash into him as I take in the table. I get to the right side that’s empty and my breath falters in my chest. There are four open seats, the two closest to Keith are open, while the remaining two sit empty with small battery-operated white candles sitting in front of them.
Mark quickly sets his plate and our waters on the table, and his dad, with his hand on the small of my back, takes mine. I didn’t even realize he’d stood. My eyes blur as I take in the two empty seats.
“Dawn,” Theresa says softly and her hand lands on my arm. Forcing myself, I turn to look at her. “We wanted them to be here with you, with us for the holiday. I’m sorry if it’s too much,” she says, with sympathy in her gaze.
“Mom,” Mark growls. “You should have talked to me about this.” He steps next to me and slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into him and dropping a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I look up at him and see the worry in his eyes. He’s afraid I’m going to lose it right here in the middle of his parents’ dining room. “I’m okay,” I tell him. “It just kind of took me off guard.” I turn to his mom. “Theresa,” I swallow hard. “Thank you for thinking of me, for thinking of them.”
“Oh, honey.” She pulls me from Mark’s arms into hers. Her arms wrap around me in an embrace only a mother can give. Hot tears prick my eyes. She pulls back, and I’m immediately engulfed in Keith’s arms much the same, giving me the hug of a father. I lose the battle with my tears as they slide over my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back. Mark is there, immediately enfolding his arms around my waist from behind. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. Turning, I look up at him. He’s a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck, but the look on his face is the same no matter the height difference. Sadness. Worry. And something else I can’t quite name.
“I just didn’t… expect that,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“I’ll move them.” Mark releases me from his hold.
“No.” I reach out and grab his arm. “Please, leave them there. I-I like the thought of them being here with us.” I know it’s just a placeholder, a memorial, but the thought touches me deep in my chest, like a vise gripping my heart.
“You sure?” He cups my face in his hands and wipes my tears with his thumbs. An act he’s gotten lots of practice with over the last few weeks.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Dropping his hands from my face, he crushes me to his side.
“Thank you,” I tell Theresa. “It was very thoughtful. I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”
“You haven’t ruined anything,” Keith promises.
“Besides, that gave us time to get these little monsters fed, so we can eat with everyone else.” Meghan offers me a kind smile.
With his hand on the small of my back, Mark leads me to my seat. The one next to the two empty places with the lit candles. One for each of my parents. As I take my seat, I see a Christmas ornament around each candle. In Loving Memory. One for each of them. My heart flips over in my chest as my eyes find Theresa’s. “Thank you,” I say, wiping yet another tear that falls across my cheek. She nods, picks up her fork, and begins to eat.
Glancing over at the empty place settings, I send up a silent I love you to my parents. Then, I do what they would want me to do. I pick up my fork and begin to eat. I laugh as Imogen covers her tiny little face with mashed potatoes, and when Isaac belly laughs at his sister, I can’t help but join everyone and laugh with him as well. My smiles aren’t forced. They aren’t fake. My heart is empty, yet sitting here with this family, it’s full at the same time.
Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad.
Chapter Eight
Mark
Christmas Day could have been bad, so terribly bad, but it wasn’t. I had no idea that my mom was including a place for her parents at the table. I’m kicking myself in the ass for not thinking of doing something like that. Then again, I’ve been walking on eggshells around Dawn. I don’t know what to say or what to do to make it better. I’m not good at that shit, so instead, I leave her be. We still go out to dinner, hang out all the time, so nothing has changed. Nothing but the distance I’m starting to feel between us.
I’ve tried to keep her occupied with my house hunting. I’ve decided it’s time for a bigger place. I’m thinking about the future, our future, and it’s time. I had been looking prior to the accident, and the week we came home my realtor called with what she described as my perfect house. Turns out she was right. I loved it, Dawn loved it, so I bought it. For us, she just doesn’t know that part yet.
Still, there is distance between us. Her pain is like an invisible third wheel. I hate it. I hate that I feel like I’m losing her to her pain. So tonight, I’m pulling out all the stops. I’m making damn sure my girl has a great time. It’s New Year’s Eve. A new year is upon us, and hers is going to be fan-fucking-tastic if I have anything to say about it.
“You’re amping up your game,” Seth says from his seat beside me.
“She’s been through hell,” I tell him. He knows this.
“Yeah.” He nods. “I get that, but, man, you’re… getting all domesticated on me.”
I scowl at him. “What the fuck are you yapping about?”
“This.” He waves his hand around the room. “Since when do you care about decorations and shit?”
I take a look around at our handiwork, pleased with the outcome. “New year, new start.”
“Well, if anyone can make your intense broody ass turn a new leaf, it’s Dawn.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Mark. You’ve been seeing her for how long now? You just told us about it a few months ago.”
“You knew we were hanging out,” I defend.
“Right.” He nods. “Hanging out. Not getting your dick wet.”
“Watch it,” I warn.
“I like her for you.” He shrugs. “I’m just glad you’re finally seeing it.”
I’ve seen it…
hell, I’ve known it all along. I just wasn’t sure where she was at with it all. Not to mention, Dawn isn’t just some random you pick up at a bar. No, she’s the girl you take home to your mother. I knew that the moment I met her. I wasn’t ready to get involved with her until I knew she was the one that I wanted to take home to Mom. I know what Seth’s saying, though. I kept my feelings for her close to my chest, not even really sharing them with her, until recently, and I’ve not really done that either. She knows I’m in this, that she’s the only one I’m interested in, but I’ve yet to tell her that I’m in love with her. When I thought I would, something would happen, and then her parents, and it just hasn’t felt like the right time to tell her. Instead, I plan to show her. I’ve gone out of my way to make this night fun for her.
“You plan on buying any furniture?” he asks as he glances around my new house.
“I haven’t even had the keys for twenty-four hours,” I remind him.
“What are you going to do with all this space anyway?”
“What do most people do with big houses?” I ask.
“Something you’re not telling me?”
“No, but I’m not opposed to the idea.” In fact, that’s why I bought this place. I’m ready to settle down. I want to do the whole wife and kids thing. Ridge and Ty make it look easy, and I envy them.
“She know that?” Seth asks.
“Nope.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “You think that you ought to clue her in?”
“There’s no rush. She’s been through a lot. One small step at a time. She’s healing.”
He nods. “She’s lucky to have you,” he says, going all serious on me.
“She’s lucky to have all of us. You were there,” I remind him.
“You’re family. So is she,” he adds. “So, you selling your old place?”
“Nah, I’m going to rent it.” I bought it cheap and did all the renovations myself. Well, the guys helped as well.
“Good source of income,” he agrees.
“That it is,” I say, tossing some noisemakers from their package onto the long table in the living room.
“I’m out. Heading home to change.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime, brother.” He waves over his shoulder and walks out the door.
Taking a look around, I see the end result of a couple hundred dollars’ worth of cheap decorations, and I’m pleased with myself. Kendall, Reagan, and Dawn are making some dips, Kent is in charge of chips and cookies of all things. His idea, not mine. I didn’t remind him that the kids are going to be here. I know he has a sweet tooth.
Balloons, streamers, and about a dozen other items declaring it the New Year adorn the room. I’ve yet to move any furniture, except for my bed, so it’s basically all open. I bought some paper plates, and forks, spoons, napkins, and cups. I plan on staying here tonight, and I’ve advised the guys that they are too. This place has five bedrooms, plus with a fully finished basement, there won’t be a need for anyone to worry about how they’re getting home. Although, they do need their own bedding. I better remind them while I’m thinking of it.
Group text: Bring blankets and pillows.
Group text: Air mattress if you have it. Only moved my bed.
Ridge: Kendall and I are at the store. Anyone need us to pick up anything?
It’s followed by a picture of an air mattress in their cart.
Seth: Get me one.
Kent: Me too.
Tyler: We’ll bring ours.
Seth: You have an air mattress?
Tyler: Yeah, we “camp out” with the boys in the living room. They love it.
I smile because the boys, his twins, are not even a year old yet. I’m not sure they really understand the concept of camping. However, after the year they’ve had, I’m sure having his wife and babies snuggled up with him at night is exactly what he wants. I know Reagan is big on a schedule for them, as is Kendall with Knox and Everly. My sister is as well with her two kids. Routine is key, she once told me. I never questioned her because what the fuck do I know about raising kids? I know my buddies fell into it seamlessly and they make that shit look easy.
Ridge: Kendall and I are stealing that idea.
Tyler: You’re welcome.
Ridge: Kendall wants to know if you have champagne?
Me: Yes.
Ridge: Glasses?
I add a picture of the plastic champagne glasses that are sitting on the kitchen counter with the rest of the party items I bought yesterday.
Ridge: She’s impressed.
Kent: Suck up.
Seth: Making us look bad.
Tyler: Good job, bro.
With a chuckle, I slide my phone back in my pocket and get back to work. I have to run to my parents’ to pick up a couple of tables and some chairs and then get back here to fire up the grill. It’s freezing-ass cold outside, but there is nothing better than grilled steak. I picked up some chicken for the ladies, well, Dawn mostly, she’s not much of a steak fan. Grabbing my keys, I lock up and head out.
I’m pulling into the driveway of the new house when my phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I see Dawn’s smiling face. “Hey,” I greet her.
“Hey, yourself. Just checking in to see if there’s anything I need to pick up on my way over?”
“I don’t think so. Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve never been the host before.” I chuckle.
“Tell me what we’ve got so far.”
We. I rattle off what I know as far as food and drinks. “Oh, pack a bag. My bed is all moved so we’re staying here tonight.”
“You sure?”
She’s been doing that a lot lately. Asking if I’m sure I want to spend time with her. “Positive.”
“I haven’t exactly been fun to be around,” she muses.
“Pixie.” I pause, not really knowing what to say. “As long as we’re together, it’s all going to be okay.” That I can promise her. Because as long as I’m breathing, she has a place in my arms. No matter how far she falls, I’m going to be there.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you since… that night.”
“You don’t have to find out.”
“Mark, I— Thank you for all that you do for me.”
“Pix?”
“Yeah?”
“Get your ass over here. It’s been two days since I’ve laid eyes on you.”
“You saw me yesterday morning.”
I glance at the clock on the dash. “It’s after three.”
“That’s hardly two days,” she counters, but I can hear the smile in her voice, which is what I wanted.
“It’s too damn long, woman. Pack a bag.”
“Okay. As soon as I get that done and load up the car, I’ll be over.”
“Be safe.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her, but I bite down to prevent the words from spilling over. I’m not telling her over the phone. No, I want her in front of me so I can see those hazel eyes as I tell her. I want her in my arms, feeling her next to me when I confess that she’s stolen my heart. Who knows, maybe tonight will be the night.
“Always,” she says before the line goes dead.
Climbing out of the truck, I slide my phone in my pocket and get busy carrying in the tables and chairs. Once I have them all set up in the living room, I remember that I don’t have clothes here either. It’s just before five. Everyone is supposed to be here around seven, so I still have time. Locking up, I dash back out into the cold December weather and head toward home, my old home. I hope to get everything moved this coming week and put it on the market for rent.
“Shit,” I mumble when I realize Dawn should be at the new place any minute. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I hit her contact, and the call connects through the truck’s speakers.
“You forget something?” she asks in greeting.
“I did actually. Clothes. I’m on my way to my place… my old place to pack a bag.”
“I’m actually not far from there. You want me to stop and help?”
“No, you can go on over to the new place.”
“Okay, I’ll just wait for you.”
“No, go on in.”
“Did you not lock the door?”
“No, I did. Check your key ring,” I say, smiling like a fool. I’m glad there’s no one in the truck with me to witness this. Then again, who am I kidding? I don’t give a fuck who knows or sees me.
“Is that…? How did you…?” she splutters.
“That, Pixie, is a key to my new place. I stopped by your office yesterday, and Kendall said you were slammed. Something about triplets or something. So I asked her to grab your keys for me. I slipped the key on and left.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Things have been so crazy with getting ready for tonight it slipped my mind when we talked last night.” She had to work late and I was exhausted from working all day, and then with moving my bed and dressers. Seth, Kent, and I went to grab a couple of beers and some dinner. She was drained, so we stayed at our own places. I hated it, not wanting her to be alone. I never want her to feel as if she’s all alone. Which is why as soon as I got the keys, I had one made and dropped it off to her at work. I want her to always know that she has a place in this world. With me.
“I-I don’t really know what to say to that,” she says softly.
“Say, ‘thank you, Mark. I’ll be at your place when you get there.’”
She laughs. A sound that I’ve not heard often enough from her lately. “Thank you, Mark. I’ll be at your place when you get there.”