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“Clearly, you did not, as you’re just checking it now.” I let out a long sigh as she narrowed her eyes at me. Such lovely golden eyes they were. Even more so when she was annoyed. “What does it say?”
Rather than answer, she pushed the phone at me. An ominous looking headline in heavy black type made me frown.
Hurricane Bertha has new storm track, analysts say.
“Bertha is a truly dreadful name. I hope you don’t fancy it. My child shouldn’t have—”
“Ian. Read the damn article and stop thinking about the fruit of your loins for five seconds.”
As a wise man knew when to listen to his woman, I read the article.
By the end of it, I was…well, concerned. A little.
“Look, mate, this is my first Christmas with a family.” I passed her back her phone. “A real family, including my brother and my girl and our wee one.” I patted her belly and though her eyes remained slitted, they softened. Marginally. “I never expected such good fortune. If you think an itty storm that’s spinning away merrily over the ocean is going to bring me down, you’re wrong.”
“That’s sweet. It truly is. Though if you call me mate again, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
“It’s a term of endearment.” I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the place where we’d be staying. A large holiday wreath made of undetermined flora hung on the door, festooned with a large red bow and various beachy items. There were shells and sand dollars, and perhaps even a random bit or two of sea glass. It matched some of the windows, which held panes of rainbow hues.
Stained glass was rather fitting for a renovated church. I hoped I didn’t start to smoke the moment I stepped over the threshold.
The one positive thing was that from the outside, it didn’t much look like a church. Oh, some steeples and interesting arches remained, but Simon and Margo had expanded upon it and built it out until the structure held only the barest bones of a holy gathering place.
At least I assumed there were no crosses over the beds. I wore one on my person, an item of personal value I’d had since I was a boy. Surely that was enough.
My brother definitely wasn’t one to have a religious altar. So, I should be safe.
“Yes, and so is jackass. Remember that when I call you it often over this vacation, especially if that hurricane comes anywhere near here.”
Chuckling, I tugged on her long braids. The ends were newly bright purple from some non-toxic vegan dye, which reminded me of the early days of our courtship.
“Magic, do you honestly think even the heavens themselves would deny us our happiness? After we’ve fought so long and so hard to have it?”
“Famous last words,” she muttered.
But she was smiling.
Slightly.
“Hey, brother, you going to come out and greet us?” I called, hoping Simon and Margo weren’t indisposed. It was rather late in her pregnancy, but I doubted they would abstain.
I certainly didn’t intend to.
The door opened and I smiled widely, ready to gree
t my brother with a hug. He still wasn’t that affectionate toward me, but I considered it a win that he was even speaking to me. I had faith things would improve even more in time.
Look how far we’d come already.
Nick Crandall stepped out on the small stoop and extended his arms broadly. “Welcome, friends. So happy to see you.” Nick’s smirk said volumes. He was about as sincere as a python. “Lila and I are so excited to spend this vacation with you both, along with Simon and Margo.”
I slid a look at Zoe. “Did you know your cousin was coming here too?” I asked in an undertone.
Her cousin who hated me. Fabulous.
Frantically, Zoe shook her head.
Lila and Nick—who just happened to be Margo’s and Simon’s best friends—had not yet gotten the memo that I was now considered a good guy. Yes, I’d had a rocky start with this group. I’d done some shady things and people had gotten hurt. I deserved every bit of their ire. But it was the holiday season, and we were turning over a new leaf.
