Why is it so hard to accept that maybe she is part of the reason I’m happy?
I walk toward the door, but then I remember I need to tell her about our change of plans. Instead of towering over her, I sit at the foot of the bed so we’re at eye level. “I’m switching up the plans for today, but it means we won’t be able to go ice skating today.”
“That’s okay.” The momentary disappointment in her eyes feels like a stab in the heart, but then she gives me a reassuring smile. “I hope you know you don’t have to entertain me. You’re here to be with your family. I can do things on my own.”
“I still plan to take you ice skating,” I say, ignoring her suggestion she can do things on her own. “Just not today, because I came up with something else that I think you might like better, and it’s very time sensitive.”
She studies me for a moment. “Wait. You changed your plans for me?” She asks it like it’s impossible to believe.
“Yeah.” I’m feeling uncomfortable. Will she be upset that I’m going to so much effort? Am I doing the wrong thing? I consider my plan again, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels very, very right. All I can think about is how excited she’ll be when she discovers what we’re doing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t try to make this the most special Christmas ever?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and her eyes turn shiny. “Oh, Alex. It already is.”
I feel like an asshole, and I don’t even know why. Maybe because it takes so little to make her happy. Maybe because this seems like the bare minimum that a real boyfriend would do, and she acts like no one has ever treated her this well before.
It makes me want to track down all her previous boyfriends and beat the shit out of them for not treating her like the treasure she is.
What the hell?
Treasure?
Of course she’s a treasure. I mean, come on. Look at her, excited over secret plans. For all she knows, I’m taking her to the dump at the edge of town. She’s sweet and adorable. And any man who treated her like shit deserves a beating.
And just because I’m protective of her doesn’t mean I want to sleep with her. I’m protective of my sister too.
Comparing Finley to my sister feels revolting, but I’m not going to analyze that thought. I need to focus.
“Well, I’m glad you think your trip has been perfect, but it’s about to get even better. I’ll shower, then you can get ready. We’ll grab a quick breakfast and head out.” I get up, but she reaches out and steals my mug again.
She looks impish as she takes a long sip, then hands it back. “Thank you, boyfriend.”
I dash out of the room before I do something I’ll regret, because for a split second, I wanted her to call me her boyfriend for real.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Finley
Alex still won’t tell me where we’re going, but from the way he made sure I was bundled up with a sweater, scarf, hat, and gloves, plus a pair of Mallory’s insulated snow boots that thankfully fit, I know it has to be outside.
“Are we going sledding?” I ask as we drive out of town in the Wagoneer.
“Nope.” He turns and gives me a quick look. “Do you want to go sledding?”
“If there’s time.” But after the last twenty-four hours, I wouldn’t put it past him to do a U-turn and find a sledding hill, so I add, “But it’s lower on the priority list. Just below a snowball fight.”
He grins. “Okay. Good to know.”
Now I’ll be watching for a surprise snowball attack.
As he concentrates on the road, I study his profile. He didn’t shave this morning, and his cheeks and chin are covered in dark stubble. I have a sudden urge to see if it’s scratchy, to run my fingertips along his jaw to find out.
What am I thinking?
I hurriedly turn to face the windshield and notice we’re heading toward the mountains.
“Are we going skiing?”
“No, but is that something you want to do?”
