Page 21 of Rebel Moon

“I can? I thought you hated me.”

“Strong word, hate,” I said, tightening my hold on her, inching her closer to me. She felt good in my arms. Not some dainty thing either, but a woman with obvious physical strength. I’d heard her mention Pilates once or twice. She and Ivy went to the same studio. Apparently, it was quite effective in making a woman almost too hot to touch. Almost. Because I was touching her now, and it felt like that moment when I knew I’d nailed a verse in a song just right. “And not what I feel about you.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she murmured against my chest.

“Why’s that?”

“Because hate means there’s passion. Indifference is much worse.”

“I’m not indifferent to you either.” I breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.

“That’s nice. I’m not indifferent to you, so that’s a great coincidence. Isn’t this the best song?”

“Yes ma’am, it sure is.”

“My little sister loves this one. She would make me play it for her and then dance around the house with her invisible boyfriend. His name was Dumbo. I don’t know why.”

“Big ears?”

She giggled. “I don’t know since I never saw him. Did I say he was invisible? He was.”

God, she was cute drunk.

“I think I had too many of those … what are they called?” Madeleine asked.

“I don’t know, but they were strong.”

“You drink IPAs.” She nestled closer into my chest. “Much wiser choice.”

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t drink usually. But I feel so good. Everything looks like it’s coated in icing.”

“Icing?”

“Yeah, tonight, everything’s sweeter,” Madeleine said.

Including you, I thought.

We headed back to the ranch under a sky thick with stars. Madeleine was tucked under the blanket against my side, warm and heavy. Across from me, Luci and Grant were also snuggled close.

“The sky’s ridiculously beautiful out here,” Luci said.

“Yeah, sure is,” Grant said. He wasn’t looking at the sky, but rather at Luci.

Madeleine abruptly sat up. “We should sing ‘Jingle Bells.’”

Before anyone could argue, she started singing. Off key. No sense of rhythm. But with such obvious joy the rest of us joined in. We were the first sleigh in the procession and soon the other two sleighs were also robustly singing at the top of their lungs. When that was finished, everyone was quiet until Ivy’s crystalline voice rose in the cold air, singing “O Holy Night.” No one joined her. For one thing, no one could sing like Ivy James. For another, it was way too hard a song to sing.

“She’s an angel,” Madeleine said as she snuggled closer to me, her apparent singing career over now.

“She is,” Luci said softly. “My brother’s marrying a singing angel.”

“Don’t all angels sing?” Grant asked, humor in his voice.

“Do they?” Luci asked.

“I’ve never heard of one drumming,” Grant said.