“Thanks.” She offers me a smile as she rejoins me in the kitchen. “My dad is on his yacht somewhere with my new stepmom who’s two yearsyoungerthan me.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Nope. It’s one of the reasons I moved to Caribou Creek. He’s never around, and I’m okay with that. But I wanted something…more, you know?”
“You think you’ll stay in Caribou Creek?”
“For a while at least, yeah,” she says, focused on her phone.
“You sure you’re not upset about your dad?”
“Nope. I’m used to it. He was never big on holidays, and his idea of a gift is a bank deposit.”
“You were serious about the yacht?”
“Yeah, he’s loaded. Every Christmas, he sends me a text that says ‘Merry Christmas. Check your bank account. Love, Dad.’ That’s it. That’s literally the whole text.” She holds the phone up to me as proof. “I usually spring for one thing for myself and donate the rest. This year, I’m donating the money to the local animal rescue.”
I mean to ask her if she’s a dog or cat person, but another text pops up, this one with my sister’s name on the screen. Harley pulls it back before I can read what it says. She types back and forth for a couple of minutes before curiosity gets the best of me.
“Everything okay?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah. But I need to get going. Mandi needs help. Do you think my Jeep will start?”
I’m hurt by how nonchalant she is about leaving. “But you haven’t even tried my pancakes yet.”
“I believe you can cook,” she says, reaching on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. Myfuckingcheek.She scurries around the living room, collecting her clothes, undressing and dressing like it’s no big deal. “I promised your sister I’d be there to help, and well, if I’m late she might…read into things, you know?”
“So we’re not telling her?”
“Right.”
Frustration kills my good mood instantly. Not telling Mandi about a kiss we both deemed a mistake is one thing. But pretending like last night was just for fun? What the actual fuck?
“Last night was a one-time thing then,” I say, testing her response.
She locks her gaze with mine for a few seconds, and I wait for her to crack. Instead, she pulls on her boots and says, “Glad we agree. See you at Mandi’s.”
Chapter 9
Harley
“Everything okay?”Mandi asks for at least the third time since I showed up to help her with her Christmas morning feast.
“Yep. Fine.”
Except nothing is fine. Because apparently Christmas Eve with Tripp was a one-time thing, and I was too chicken to call him on it. So I did the “cool girl” thing and just agreed.
Now I can’t stop staring at the clock, dreading the minute when he’ll walk through Mandi’s front door and I’ll have to pretend that nothing happened. Like I haven’t gone and caught feelings for him.
“You’re not a very good liar, you know,” Mandi says, pointing her spatula at me. She moves around the kitchen as though her ankle is completely healed. Coincidence?
Like her brother, she too is making pancakes. Guilt twists my stomach in knots. Maybe Tripp was offended that I left before trying breakfast. But I forgot I had half the groceries Mandi needed in my kitchen since I offered to chip in. I was already running late thanks to how hard I slept after all those delicious orgasms.
Or maybe Tripp was only interested in getting this lust out of our systems because we had a convenient opportunity to do just that.
“What did Tripp do?”
“Nothing bad.” That part, at least, is true.
