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I smile. “We’ll be there whenever you want. But yeah, I think August would work.”
Cat looks at me again and grabs my hand, pulling me closer to the Christmas tree. “I know this is crazy, and feel free to say no, it’s just…I feel it in my bones, we’re going to be sisters…and you knew my mother…and…”
I silence her with my hand. “Just say it, Cat. Whatever you need I’ll do it,” I say with a laugh.
“Be my maid of honor? I know it’s nuts after all I put you through, but honestly I’ve never been close with girls, so if it’s not you it will be Cash and that’s weird.” She laughs and turns back to look at Jay again. Letting out a long breath, she starts again. “You are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister…I would love it if you would be my maid of honor…please?”
Emotions swirl, and the warmth of the room and the holiday get to me, or maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s the fact that I know I’m carrying her niece, but all those things have me falling into her arms, hugging her close, and smiling. “Yes, I will happily be your maid of honor. Thank you, Cat. For everything.”
Carter arrives an hour later, and we sit down for a late Christmas Eve dinner. Apparently, it’s tradition in the James family to have pizza on Christmas Eve. You can’t help but laugh at a family that has more than most choosing to have cheese pizza on a holiday.
Not that I have much to compare it to, but over the years I’ve spent Christmas Eve with Asher, Marion, and Steven, and we always went out to a fancy restaurant, drank insanely expensive wine, and exchanged beautiful gifts.
But as with the hibachi restaurant, the Jameses don’t flaunt their wealth; they take joy in the simplicity.
“So, it’s a family tradition that we wear matching pajamas, take a picture in front of the tree, and then play Twister,” Cat says as we carry the plates into the kitchen. I ate my weight in pizza, so Twister doesn’t sound like a great idea at this point.
I level her with a glare. “Don’t you think the pregnant lady gets to sit this one out?”
Cat shakes her head. “Nope. Family tradition, and now that you’re one of the family, you’ve got to participate.”
“I’m not one of the family; wejustgot back together.”
“You’re having his baby, Grace. I’m sure he’s dying to get down on his knee to ask you that special question.”
My heart skips. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea of marrying Cash,one day, I think, but we seriouslyjustgot back together.
“You don’t think he’ll ask now, do you?”
Cat shrugs her shoulders as she washes the dishes. I don’t think she can see how much this conversation is freaking me out. How the simple idea of being married again sends me in a tailspin of worry. I know most girls would give their left hand to marry Cassius James. He’s a catch by anyone’s definition.
For most women, just the simple idea of getting married and having a baby is a dream come true. But most women didn’t just spend the last six years in a loveless marriage. In a marriage where I lost myself and had to fight to remainme.In a marriage where I felt selfish simply for choosing to be happy, to want to work, to want to spend time with friends, to want to spend time by myself doing the things that I loved. To take a morning and paint. Or to sit and have a cup of coffee in silence.
Or, God forbid, enjoy my job.
It scares the shit out of me that if I get married again, not immediately, but over time, I’ll start to feel selfish just for wanting all those things.
I can be a mother and a partner to Cash without giving up who I am. That’s not selfish, is it?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Cash’s deep voice says in a whisper against my neck. The hairs stand on end, and it’s not the usual chemistry that is causing it.
Shifting on my feet to get some space, I brush past him. “Just going to grab a change of clothes.”
I almost make it out of the kitchen before he grabs my hand and pulls me into his chest. “Pajamas are on the bed,” he says, before dropping a kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, he looks at me as if he’s inspecting my every thought. I try to feign a smile, hoping to hide my worries. “I’ll be in to change in a minute. Just want to talk to Kit Cat.”
I nod and walk out before he has a chance to read me any closer. When I get to the bedroom, I shut the door and lean against it, attempting to stabilize my quick beating pulse. He wouldn’t try to propose this weekend, would he?
