tightened. How could he help Amy see it would be okay and he would do whatever it took to make this holiday special? For both her father and her.
“That’s a long time,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. She didn’t let go, and neither did he. Whatever anger or confusion lay between them paled in comparison to the pain swamping her now. It made him feel small. And foolish for being so upset with her in the first place.
“I never really wanted to celebrate after we lost her. Not for a long time. And Dad was the same way. After the first few years, it was just our new normal, you know? Friends told me it was weird. That it was wrong of him to tell me I couldn’t have Christmas presents. But they never got it. How could I have been mad at him over it?”
He continued to rub her back. What could he say? That it was okay? It wasn’t. Losing your mother was never okay, no matter how old you were. Amy had just been a kid.
“Well, try not to stress. I promise Mom will have everything under control in here tomorrow.”
“She asked me to help, but I suck at planning anything. I can’t cook. I don’t entertain. We don’t do big meals or dinner parties or any of that shit. And I have no idea where to start.”
“Shh. Honey, that’s okay. And don’t worry. If it’s one thing I know, it’s how to make a plan.” Though she seemed to be thwarting his current one at every turn. He held her shoulders and eased her back. Her cheeks were wet, but no new tears came out. She sniffed and stepped away.
“Sorry,” she said.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” She pulled her hair behind her ears and straightened her stance. The movement made her breasts jut forward against the thin material of her shirt, and even in the darkness he could see the press of her nipples. He turned from her and slammed the fridge closed, wincing at the noise.
“You didn’t wake me,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”
He clicked on the regular light and blinked in the brightness. The last thing he needed was to see Amy and her nipples in the bright light, but the dimness made this feel even more intimate. He picked up her list and ripped off the top piece and then threw it and the rest of the paper into the trash can beneath the lip of the island.
“First things first.” He cleared a section on the island and put the pad down, then leaned over it with a pen in his hand. At the top, he wrote Thanksgiving Menu . On the left, he wrote main dishes , then drew a line and wrote side dishes in the middle and another line and then desserts on the right. No doubt his mother had this all planned out in her head, but doing this small thing to help Amy feel better wouldn’t cost him anything but an hour of sleep.
He turned to look at Amy. Her eyes were wide and still shone with tears, but also now with a glimmer of hope.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
She said it as if he hated her. Shoot.
“I’m sorry I’ve been an ass. Really, I don’t know what got into me. I was just so caught off guard by everything. Meeting you, being so attracted to you, and then seeing you and your dad here.” He wasn’t angry with her. But watching the plans he’d had to seduce her crash and burn had pissed him off. He never liked it when things didn’t go according to plan, and he’d been more interested in her than he had been in anyone in a long while. Realizing that nothing could happen between them was hard, and he’d taken it out on her like it was her fault. It was completely unfair.
He didn’t want to explain all that, though. Admitting he was attracted to her was bad enough. Outlining his anger at not being able to have her sounded possessive, and he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to that.
“So you don’t hate me?” She sounded so vulnerable in that moment that it took everything he had not to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
“No, I don’t hate you. Now
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