Page 49 of Terms and Traditions

I stole a glance at Ryder, sitting directly across from me beside Nana. His smile was subdued compared to Jackson’s, but his eyes were bright with excitement. I sighed inwardly. Who was I to deny this child?

“Bring the gold one, Jack-Jack.”

Jackson snatched Ryder’s gift and lugged it to me. “It’s not too heavy,” he announced before dropping it in my lap and half of Nash’s beside me.

Nash’s low chuckle skittered across my skin. “The exuberance of youth.”

I laughed and tore through the shiny golden paper, uncovering a plain brown box… completely encased in clear packing tape. And on the top was a note:

NO SCISSORS ALLOWED.

Oh, boy. I gave Ryder the stink eye across the room, but he just laughed, leaning back in his chair to enjoy my suffering. The punk. “Are you serious?” I waggled my Wine Seduction polished fingertips, fresh from girls’ night. “I just did these!”

Ryder rolled his eyes, heaving the sigh of an eighty-year-old man dismayed at the priorities of a younger generation. “If you must.”

“Here.” Nash handed me a small pocketknife—did all guys have a secret stash of knives on them at all times?—and winked. “Knives weren’t prohibited after all.”

Ryder huffed. “Whose side are you on?”

I grinned cheekily. “Mine, nephew dearest.” Leaning in, I kissed Nash’s cheek, much to my nephew’s dismay.

But Nash? He stilled under my touch, his steady gaze enchanting me. This was pretend. We were pretending. Playing a part. Selling a story. But the warmth in his espresso eyes, the quirk of lips holding back a smile had me feeling like this was too real. Like this was our future. Bantering with my nephews. Surviving family holidays. I’m not running, Steph. The words were a soft caress to my mangled heart. And oh, how I wanted to believe them.

I shook my head to clear the foggy thoughts, using the blade to carefully slice through the top of the box. I handed the knife back to Nash—safety first—and opened the present.

To find packing peanuts. Mint and bubble-gum pink.

Scooping out the mounds of fluffy Styrofoam, I dug down until my fingers brushed a smooth object. “Do you mind holding the box?” I asked Nash.

“Sure.” He pivoted and adjusted the box farther onto his lap, tilting it so I could grasp the new item.

And what did I pull out? Another box. This one wrapped in a black garbage bag and secured with endless duct tape. It was official. I’d received the gag gift of the game. They weren’t common anymore, after several siblings who shall not be named overdid them in a battle to outdo each other. Competitive even about gag gifts. But Ryder had heard the stories of each brand of crazy and had witnessed at least one or two in the past. Now, on the cusp of his initiation into the game, he was bringing things to a whole new level.

Everyone was laughing at my ill-fortune by this point. Hiram even slapped Ryder on the back in approval as he walked past, bringing a plate of goodies with him from the kitchen. While none of them wanted to be in my shoes right now, they were all getting a kick out of it in the meantime.

Zara reached for a lemon tart from Hiram’s plate as he settled back beside her, but he tilted the dish away. “Probably enough carbs for tonight, my dear,” he said.

I picked at the duct tape, listening. They weren’t talking loudly compared to the high energy of the room, but I still caught the pointedness of his words framed as a suggestion.

“Oh. Right.” Zara’s face shattered a little, but she recovered quickly and nibbled a baby carrot.

Nash offered me the knife again. “You’ll be needing this.”

And he was right. Because after the duct tape came another atrociously taped box.

“So that’s where all the tape went,” Ivy commented wryly, eyeing her eldest over the rim of her glasses.

“And the hours you spent holed up in your room, hmm?” Gabe mused, tossing another log on the fire, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement.

Ryder only grinned with secret knowledge.

Thankfully, that box was empty with an envelope inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, I opened the envelope and read the computer-typed note aloud:

FINISH THE CAROL. FIND THE CLUE.

“There's a song in the air!

There's a star in the sky!