Hold On (Page 171)

He was impervious and I knew this when he kept talking.

“I mean, look at Colt. He’s, like, borderline old guy, and he still totally has it.”

“And Feb doesn’t?” I asked.

My kid looked to me. “She’s an exception.”

“You do know I turn thirty-five in two months,” I reminded him.

He grinned at me. “You’re an exception too.”

“You totally are,” Merry muttered.

My head whipped Merry’s way. “You could help here, you know.”

Merry looked to my son and said as if by rote, “Ethan, women are attractive at any age.”

Ethan grinned at my man and replied, “Right.”

I decided Merry would get another blowjob around the time Ethan turned twelve.

But I had a lesson to teach, so I’d deal with that later.

“So, prior to your twelfth birthday, I’ll tell Feb, Rocky, Dusty, Frankie, and Vi you think they’re all past it,” I declared. “And before your gramma goes out for the big stuff for you for Christmas, I’ll tell her you think she’s totally past it.”

“They’re all exceptions too. Even Gram. I wouldn’t know, obviously, but Teddy’s grandpa said she’s a looker,” Ethan returned.

“So who isn’t an exception?” I asked.

Ethan looked like he was thinking about it.

Then he broke into a big grin and stated, “Maybe I spoke all hasty.”

“See, baby, you got a smart kid. You give him time, he’ll get to it,” Merry said.

“You both are annoying me,” I announced, though this was really a lie. I thought they were pretty hilarious. Annoyingly hilarious but still hilarious. I reached out to grab Ethan’s empty plate. “And it’s time for work and school, so you can quit annoying me by gettin’ on the road.”

I grabbed my own plate too, turning toward the sink, hearing Merry talking. “Your mom’s right, buddy. Let’s hit it. Teeth. Backpack. Coat. And grab a scarf and gloves. It’s cold out there. Yeah?”

“’Kay, Merry.”

I turned on the tap to run water over butter and maple syrup residue, completely unable to continue even pretending to be annoyed after hearing Merry tell my boy to grab a scarf and gloves.

I watched Merry’s hand put his plate on top of the other ones in the sink as I felt his other hand light on my hip.

“Easy to get a tree, grab some cheap ornaments, and put it up. I’ll even get one of those big blow-up snowmen for the front yard, you and Ethan wanna do Christmas here,” he said in my ear.

“I can’t do Christmas unless Santa has anointed my house with Christmas vomit,” I told the sink. “You up for that?”

I heard his chuckle and felt the heat of him come closer as his hand slid from my hip to my belly.

“We’ll get an air mattress. Ethan can sleep on that in one of the extra rooms. Grace can sleep in Ethan’s room. Everyone comfortable. Do presents here, breakfast, then later, go to Rocky and Tanner’s. Dad’ll be there. Vera and Devin too. Jasper and Tripp as well, Keira attached at Jasper’s hip, like usual. Big family thing when we do Christmas dinner.”

Big family thing.

A big family thing that Merry wanted.

But he wanted that family thing to start here, in his house, with what we were building.

I closed my eyes.

Ethan had a room at Merry’s and it was definitely his room. Not a junk room. Nothing was in the closet but some of my kid’s clothes. Shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush in the crappy bathroom Ethan used that Merry was going to gut after Christmas and redo.

The roof, furnace, AC, and windows had been first, obviously, and Merry hadn’t fucked around with those. He had us there and he had that frequently, he’d told me, so he took care of that right away. Right away, as in, he had work scheduled to start practically the day after he moved in.

I had clothes in Merry’s closet and doubles of all my stuff (except makeup—that required an investment, but I had bits and bobs, so I was getting there) in his crappy master bath.

We were all but moved in.

And now—Merry’s house being so big, the great room a place where we could all be together, Ethan liking showing off its awesomeness to his buds so sleepovers continued to be frequent (they just happened at Merry’s), and Merry pretty much taking over the care of my kid when I was at work nights or evenings—we were mostly here.

We might sleep at my place once or twice a week.

But Merry’s place was becoming home.

This was intentional. He gave both of us sets of keys the day he’d closed on the house. The first night we stayed over, which was the first night he was in the house since we’d helped him move, we found he’d bought an Xbox so Ethan would have all he needed to feel at home. And he told me to pack us both and make it so we weren’t lugging bags back and forth all the time.

“Settle in, baby. You and Ethan,” he’d whispered to me in the dark that first night in his house. “I think we’re all past the idea of sleepovers.”

I was. Definitely.

My kid would go to the ends of the earth for Merry, so I figured he was too.

I just didn’t know Merry was at that place.

But I was glad to know.

And the next day, I settled us in.

Right then, however, I knew just what place Merry actually was in.

And it was even better.

I turned in his arm at the sink, looking up at him.

“You want Christmas,” I whispered my guess.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Didn’t wanna say anything, but since Ethan mentioned it and seems he’s good with it, there it is.”