The Family You Make Page 17

  In the vest pocket sat the sugar plum fairy ornament. Every time the small flat box pressed up against her ribs, a mixed bag of emotions hit her. Emotions she wasn’t sure she could name even if she’d wanted to. She tried to go with angry, but somehow she was having trouble sticking with that.

  On her break, she decided it was time to be a grown-up. So she sneaked into the supply closet—because nothing said grown-up more than that—and pulled out her phone to send a text.

  JANE: Need to talk to you.

  LEVI: Not that I’m easy, but when and where?

  JANE: I get off at 6.

  LEVI: Or you could wait for me to assist in the getting off . . .

  JANE: Are you flirting with me?

  LEVI: Depends on if you liked it.

  LEVI: . . .

  JANE: Okay, maybe I liked it a little. Leave me a text on where to find you. I’m going to go home and change first.

  LEVI: Don’t change on my account. I like you just the way you are.

  Since she had no idea how to respond to him—well, okay, her body knew exactly how to respond to him—she did as she should have when she got to work: she turned off her phone and went back to her shift.

  At six fifteen, she headed out to the parking lot and stopped short at the man leaning against her car, boots casually crossed, head down doing something on his phone. Long before he could have heard her coming, he looked up and unerringly landed that see-all gray gaze on her.

  She faltered, then lifted her chin and strode directly toward him. Remember, you’re not happy he gave you a present. You’re not at all charmed. This is pretend. Just pretend. Presents have no place in a pretend relationship. Especially presents that make you feel decidedly . . . un-pretend-like.

  And here was the thing. She’d spent most of her life living by certainties. The sun would rise, and no matter what part of the world she was in, she rose with it and went to her job. Then she’d go to bed and stare up at whatever ceiling happened to be over her head and tell herself that even though much of her life hadn’t been ideal, she was doing her part to make people’s lives better.

  But then a certain blizzard had put her in a situation up close and far too personal with the man watching her approach. A man who had no place in her regimented, planned-out world. None. And as un-grown-up as it was, she felt a stirring of frustration with him for standing there looking like the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  So she did what she did. She went on the defensive. She went toe-to-toe with him, pulled the box out of her pocket, and pressed it against his chest. “We agreed this isn’t real, so why in the world would you do this?”

  He opened the box and looked at the ornament, nothing showing on his face.

  She stared into his eyes. Okay, not his eyes. She stared at his mouth. She didn’t know why. “Your turn to talk,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Well, thanks to my niece, I know this is a sugar plum fairy from The Nutcracker. Although I gotta say, you make a far cuter one.”

  “Why, Levi?”

  “I don’t know. Why did you tell me you didn’t want to kiss me the other night, when all you’ve done since you got out here was look at my lips?”

  Gah! She jerked her gaze off his lips, then rubbed her hands over her face. “I swear, I have no idea what that is.”

  He looked at her for a long beat, then set the box with the ornament on the hood. “This is why,” he said and nudged her up against the vehicle. Moving slowly, clearly giving her time to resist, he reached out and removed her sunglasses. Then he closed the gap separating them and kissed her. Slow. Sweet. Almost as if he was asking a question.

  Her heart drumming in her ears and throat, she pulled back and stared at him, her only thought being that this hadn’t been nearly enough. Reaching out, she grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him back into her. He went with the forward momentum, letting them bump into each other, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and everything deliciously in between. “This is just a kiss,” she informed him, her voice annoyingly soft and breathy.

  This had him laughing softly against her as he nibbled her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth. Someone gasped. Her. Dammit. With another of those sexy laughs, he kissed her. Really kissed her, nothing sweet or questioning about it this time. She moaned, closed a fist in his hair, and did the only thing she could: held on for the best kiss of her life.

  Levi was slow to pull back, slower still to lift his head and reveal those sexy eyes.

  “Okay.” She nodded and licked her lips, because apparently she needed that one last taste of him. “So we got that out of the way, which means we’re done with that now.”

  He looked pointedly at her arms, which were still wrapped tightly around him.

  She yanked her hands from him and shoved her fingers in her hair, turning away from him while she tried to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. “You make me crazy.”

  “Ditto.” He paused. “And I didn’t give you that ornament.”

  She whirled back, took in the truth in his eyes, and felt her heart sink. She believed him.

  That left only her grandpa. Which meant he knew she was in town.

  Guilt flooded her because it was one thing to avoid the man when he didn’t know she was here; it was another entirely if he was aware of her trips to Tahoe and knew she’d been avoiding him. And then there was the disappointment that he’d chosen to communicate via the gift instead of in person, or the guilt for avoiding him in the first place—she wasn’t sure which.

  “Jane? You okay?”

  She dropped her head to his chest. His hard chest. Slowly shook her head.

  “What can I do? Name it.”

  “Feed me.”

  “Done.” He led her to his car and drove them toward town, parking at one end of the Lake Walk. All the shops, storefronts, and restaurants were lit with a myriad of lights, as were the old-fashioned lampposts, making the place seem like a movie set.

  In less than five minutes, they were seated inside a pizzeria, near a huge brick fireplace that took up one entire wall. The heat felt wonderful, the scents teased her cranky belly, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, her dinner companion was a sight for sore eyes.

  They ordered, and when they each had a beer in front of them, Levi met her gaze. “I’m guessing you have an idea who the ornament is from.”

  She gave a stunned nod. “I think it’s from my grandpa. He’s the only other person who would know what such a gift would mean to me.”

  “Can you ask him?”

  “I haven’t talked to him in twenty years.”

  He didn’t look judgy or horrified. He merely nodded. “I can understand why.” Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand, which was gripping her beer bottle with a white-knuckled grip. “What do you want to do?”

  She wasn’t sure. Did she want to make contact? Her first instinct was no, a decision made by hurt. But suddenly she wasn’t sure. Wariness kept beating back her curiosity, but maybe it was time to let go of the past and make a present for herself. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “If I just show up, I might upset him.”

  Levi continued to hold her hand, and she wondered if he knew that simple touch was the only thing keeping her grounded.

  “If he’s the one who got you the ornament, he already knows you’re here,” he pointed out. “You won’t be a surprise. He gave you the ornament knowing you’d figure out who it came from. I’m betting he’s expecting you.”

  She looked into his calm eyes. “But what if he’s not? What if he’s unhappy to see me. I can’t . . .” She let her gaze break from his. “I don’t want to be turned away.”

  Levi gently cupped her face, bringing it back around. “Either way, going to see him or not, you’re in the driver’s seat now. You can’t make a wrong move.”

  She nodded, empowered by the reminder. “I’m just . . . wary. I don’t know how to trust this. I have no idea what he ex
pects. But you’re right. This isn’t about him, it’s about me and what I want. And what I want is for bygones to be bygones, because family matters.”

  “I agree, family does matter. But it only works if it’s a give-and-take.”

  “He did make the first move,” she said. “Sort of.”

  He nodded, keeping a hold on her hand, gaze solemn. He was taking this seriously. He was taking her seriously. Just as Charlotte had, and Jane realized how much that meant. “When I lived with my grandparents . . . it was the best time of my entire childhood,” she admitted.

  “There’s no harm in reaching out and seeing what’s up.”

  How did he always make everything sound so simple, so easy, so right? She had no idea. All she knew was that when she was with him, she felt like she could do anything.

  Their pizza came, and she practically fell onto it, inhaling the best-tasting loaded pie she’d ever had. “Oh my God,” she said around a mouthful.

  “Right?” Levi was working on his own big slice. “Only yesterday, I’d have said heaven on earth.”

  “What changed since yesterday?”

  “I have a new favorite taste,” he said, and laughed when she blushed.

  She put her hands on her cheeks. “Are you always such a flirt?”

  “No.”

  “So why me?”

  He smiled at her. “Because when I’m with you, I feel like . . . me.”

  Everything inside her softened at that. Because the truth was, she felt the exact same way, which meant he was dangerous to her heart and soul. She decided to concentrate on eating rather than messy things like feelings. “I’m starving,” she said, grabbing another piece. “Didn’t get any breaks today.”

  “You work too hard.”

  She shrugged. “Not more than anyone else.”

  His look said he disagreed, but he let it go. He told her about his day, how he was balancing his own work with helping out his parents with the store’s accounting, making her laugh with the antics of Jasper, the goldendoodle. How he’d put his nose where it didn’t belong on the poor UPS guy and now they couldn’t get their deliveries. And then there was the dog’s choice of snacks—his humans’ belongings, like his niece’s socks.

  “Maybe they’re just lost,” Jane said on a laugh.

  “He horked up the evidence on the kitchen floor while we were eating breakfast, along with a pair of my mom’s underwear—nude lace.” He shuddered, looking so pained, she nearly snorted her beer out her nose. “No,” she gasped.

  “Oh yes. There was a lot of screaming. My ears are still ringing.”

  She laughed in sympathy and then eyed the last piece of pizza.

  Levi nudged it toward her.

  “I couldn’t,” she said, trying to mean it. “You take it.”

  “It’s got your name on it. I’m full.”

  She was halfway through the piece when she caught him smiling at her. Not laughing at her, just genuinely smiling. And yet . . . she realized that his smile was missing its usual wattage. “It was sweet of you to come to my work to see me,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He grimaced a little at the sweet. “I wanted to make it easier for you to communicate to me whatever you needed to.”

  “I’m sorry I accused you of leaving me the ornament,” she said on a wince. “Not my finest moment.”

  “I understand.”

  She met his gaze. “Are you sure? Because I feel like something’s bothering you.”

  “I just heard myself tell you that story about Jasper, deflecting with humor, rather than having the courage to go deep, like you did.” He blew out a breath. “I came to Tahoe because my mom hinted that she needed my help with something. I ended up on that gondola with you because an hour into the visit I needed an escape. You know what happened next, and it was a week before my dad told me the reason they’d needed me. The store’s accountant was my sister’s husband. When he left her, he took all their money and vanished. My dad was worried that he’d gotten creative with the store accounting as well.”

  “Oh my God. Did he?”

  He pushed his plate away. “There was a month of time where no one was really on top of the books. I’ve been going through it all. And yeah, he helped himself to the kitty, getting very creative about it.”

  “Oh, no.” Her heart sank for him. For his family. “Did you get the police involved?”

  “Not yet. I’m not quite finished with the internal audit, but it’s bad. And my family is going to be shattered when they find out that the store is now at risk. Telling them is going to suck.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “That’s a heavy burden to carry alone.”

  “I don’t feel alone at the moment.”

  She didn’t question why it felt as natural as breathing to slide out of her side of the booth and into his to wrap her arms around his strong shoulders and hug him. He’d certainly consoled and supported her enough times. And when he buried his face in her hair and held on tight, taking comfort from her, something squeezed deep inside her chest in the very best of ways.

  “How do you tell family that family screwed you over?” he asked.

  Jane let out a small mirthless huff of laughter. “Being an expert on the being-screwed-over end of things, I’d say this—just rip off the Band-Aid rather than skate around the truth.”

  “I don’t want to tell them until I have everything I need to nail my sister’s asshole soon-to-be-ex.”

  “Are you always the family fixer?” she asked.

  He shrugged. Which was a yes, and something deep in her gut twinged. Suddenly she felt like that once-homeless eight-year-old clutching her backpack with everything she possessed in the world, waiting for her guardians to realize what everyone always did eventually—that she was unfixable.

  The waitress came by and offered them dessert. They ordered a brownie and ice cream to share.

  “You still thinking of sticking around Tahoe?” she asked, digging into the brownie, dragging it through the ice cream.

  He looked out at the lake. “I told myself I didn’t miss it here. But lately, when I think of this place, I feel an ache. I keep brushing it off, but since I’ve been home, it’s only gotten stronger. I think it’s an ache to be back here.”

  She knew that ache, knew it well. She just didn’t know where her home was.

  “Jane.”

  She looked up.

  “Your turn. How was your day?”

  “Mostly filled with ski-related incidents. Oh, but I did meet another new friend. There’s a new hospital volunteer, and he came out to each clinic to leave books for the waiting rooms. He’s going to be starting a small library for each location. He wants to follow a theme each month, and he’s starting with wilderness and exploration. He even had cute pop-up books for kids. Such a sweet, kind man.”

  “Wilderness and exploration,” Levi repeated in an oddly strangled voice. “And I suppose also the history of the region.”

  “Yes! How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess.” He took a long pull of his beer and shook his head. “My mom’s been demon-dialing me. They’re getting antsy, wanting to know if you’re coming to the anniversary dinner.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lower lip. “I can’t think of a good excuse not to.”

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny! But I promised, so yes, I’m coming to dinner. I should bring something.”

  “Bring something?”

  “Yes! Your real girlfriend wouldn’t just show up empty-handed at her first dinner with your parents. She’d bring something that she thought would mean something to them, a sort of a please-like-me gift.”

  “Not necessary,” he said.

  “It is! Help me. Can I bring something for the meal? Wine? Dessert?”

  “Well . . .” He thought about it. “My mom’s a great cook, but not a great baker.”

  “Okay,” Jane said, hoping her panic wasn’t showing. She was a shit baker. “I’ll
bake . . . something. I’ll get a recipe from Charlotte.”

  “It’s only fair that I help,” he said on a smile.

  “Are you looking for pretend date number three?”

  “Yes. Just name the day and time and I’ll be there.”

  She’d never brought a guy home before. Not that she had a home, but she did have Charlotte and Cat, and their opinions mattered to her. She nodded, and he smiled. Then he leaned in and kissed her, his hand sliding up her throat, his fingertips sinking into her hair, his thumb gliding along her jaw. He tasted like hopes and dreams and brownies, and she was breathless when he pulled back.

  “Was that pretend too?” he asked, voice low and husky.

  She had to clear her throat to talk. “Extremely pretend.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  Chapter 16

  Charlotte pulled up her driveway at four in the afternoon. It was the first time she’d seen daylight in . . . well, she couldn’t remember how long. She got out of her car, noticing that Mateo had at least ten cars in his driveway, and two right on top of the snow on his front lawn. A few more cars lined the street, now that she thought about it, even though there was no parking on the street allowed between November and April for snow removal.

  What was going on?

  She followed the sounds of wild laughter and screeching past the driveway and around the side of Mateo’s house. The snow was deeper here, and she sank into several inches as she moved, her boots making a crunching sound. Just as she rounded the corner of the house to the back, she realized all noise had stopped. In the odd and sudden silence, she cleared the corner. And then . . . whoosh!

  A snowball hit her right in the face, breaking apart on impact, its momentum taking her down to her ass in the snow.

  “Oh shit!”