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I wait for another grumpy reaction, but one doesn’t come. Finally, I search him out again and find him kneeling next to the windowsill where I placed the sleigh and reindeer with my family’s pictures on it. “June loved this one.”
“I see the pigtails,” I tell him, motioning to the fourth picture back.
He smirks, shaking his head.
The room goes quiet except for the soft hum of Silent Night playing on my phone’s speaker. “So, you and my grandma were close?” I hedge, not sure if he’ll want to talk about this. I assumed that we’d all have a family discussion when my parents got here, but since I haven’t heard from them all day, I don’t know what’s going on.
“I think so,” he says, lips thinning. “She helped me a lot…afterward.”
He doesn’t specify but I know he’s talking about his football career. “I found your old trophies in the attic.” He whips his head toward me, so I talk quicker. “I couldn’t find the decorations at first, so I opened up everything. You have one full of trophies and another full of old jerseys…”
He swallows, looking back at the picture-filled sleigh once more. “Those were the days,” he says, and his voice is laced with so much pain that it almost physically hurts.
“So, since we both know I’ve never even looked you up, what exactly happened?” I ask. My heart pounds. I fully expect him to tell me off since it’s really none of my business, but I also feel like if a guy puts his dick in you, you deserve a little bit of background information, you know?
He stands to his full height, then retreats to the couch on the far wall. “Just another sad story about a career that ended before it should. Well, before I was ready anyway. Not sure if anyone else cares.”
I move closer to him. “Well, that doesn’t sound like the truth. The guy at the airport recognized you.”
He shrugs. He’s almost entirely retreated into the couch now. “It doesn’t seem like enough when at one point, my whole goal was to have the entire world chanting my name.”
“I’m sorry that happened.” My stomach squeezes, and I really don’t know what else to say. “But you seem okay now. Maybe—”
He stops me before I go anywhere else with that sentence. “It’s a spine injury, Lilianne. I can’t risk it unless I want to gamble never being able to walk again.”
I bite my lip. I wasn’t expecting that answer. Shit.
“Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, but sometimes it flares up, especially if I do something too physical.”
My mind wanders back to him splitting wood and the unopened Christmas decorations in the attic. Maybe he just couldn’t… Maybe he can’t decorate the house either. Or the maintenance it needs.
Shit. I’m a terrible person.
I heave out a breath, ready to tell him I’m sorry when a call on my phone interrupts the Christmas music. Peering over, I see my mom’s face, so I snatch the phone up with excitement. “Mom?”
I don’t hear anything at first, then a sob comes through.
There are no flights out before Christmas. Not a single one.
Mom’s too incoherent on the phone to talk, so I tell her I’ll call her later after she’s calmed down. I reassure her that I’m fine, but my eyes prick with unshed tears. “They can’t get here before Christmas,” I tell Cam, dropping the phone onto the coffee table.
He reaches for me, yanking me down into his lap until I’m straddling him. “Good.”
I lift my brows. My first reaction is to tell him to fuck off, but the way he’s staring at me makes me keep my mouth shut.
“Because I’m not done making you mine yet, and I don’t want to sneak around my own house while I try to fuck you.”
thirteen
Breakfast has been served.New guests checked in. Kitchen is cleaned and stocked, and it’s two days before Christmas.
Merry Christmas Eve Eve.
Uncle Cam swats my ass playfully, then heads toward the swinging doors. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” I call out after him.
He turns, leering at me as if I’ve just given him an invitation to take me across the kitchen island.
I give him a solid stare in return. It’s hard enough to function without him looking at me like that all the time. “You’re taking me to get a tree,” I smile.
