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He put the dog away and I followed him to the garage to put on helmets and snow pants. The tour was great. The view was even better. But the best part was I got to hug William Dixon around the waist the whole ride.
8
WILLIAM
“GOOD MORNING,” LAUREN SAID, coming out of her room.
I smiled up at her over the top of my laptop. “Good morning.”
It was 9:00 a.m. She was already dressed and ready—in an impressively ugly sweater.
“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “That’s special even for here.”
“You think so?” She grinned, doing a spin.
I laughed. She was in a green turtleneck sweater with a yeti on the front. It had two red eyes made out of ornaments right where her nipples would be.
She nodded at me. “Show me yours.”
I stood. Mine was black with Santa on the roof of a house, peeing into the chimney.
“It is perfect,” she said. “Very you.”
“It was this or my dick-in-a-box one,” I said.
“Well, there’s always Christmas.”
I chuckled and we smiled at each other.
We’d taken the snowmobile out last night, and then we’d closed the engagement party down. After that we’d stayed up talking in the living room. I’d started a fire and we sat on the sofa with Daisy sleeping between us. We didn’t go to bed until almost 1:00 a.m. I wasn’t a night person, but I would have gladly stayed up just for more time to hang out with her.
“There’s coffee in the pot,” I said, sitting back down. “I made you a ham and egg sandwich. It’s in the microwave.”
“Thanks. What time did you get up?” She went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup.
“Six.” I looked at my watch. “I’m surprised you’re up so early,” I called.
“Had to,” she said, opening the microwave. “Noel scheduled the dress fitting for ten.”
Then she came back and flopped into the chair across from me with her breakfast. “What are you doing?”
“Drawing up a cease-and-desist letter for a crocheted penis?”
“You’re such a Good Samaritan,” she said, smiling over her mug.
“I cannot believe I went to law school for this,” I mumbled.
“Were you paid in fruitcake?”
“I was.” I picked up the bag next to my chair and set it on the table and slid it to her.
She sat up and pulled out the loaf. “It’s heavy.”
“She doesn’t cut corners. Best ingredients money can buy. Go ahead and try it,” I said, typing.
“You want some?”
“Sure.”
