“Then what are we talking about?”
“We’re talking about cats.”
I allowed a laugh at that. “Cats?”
“Yes! Cats! Look at what you do with your girlfriends Ryan. They break your heart, they turn out to be someone else, and you go out and get a cat to name after them. Because you don’t allow yourself to deal with the pain. You get a replacement, and one you can control.”
She kissed the lips that didn’t—wouldn’t—kiss back. “Ryan, if I’m someone who’s meant to break your heart, or if you’re someone who’s meant to break mine … I really don’t want to become a cat.”
My nostrils twitched, my lips made the move to frown. My throat strained around a growing lump, and I instantly regretted telling her that truth, instantly regretted telling her the reason for the names.
She didn’t know my history, and those words … Those words were harsh. They were as cold as her hands, chilling the tattooed skin on my back through my thin t-shirt. Every bone in my body screamed in agony, warning me to shove her off, get out of the bed, and find warmth, just to ward off the hypothermia she was causing.
But the thing about those words was, they were also true; that thing about wanting to regain control, knowing deep down I could never handle it. That thing about not allowing myself to deal with how it—relationships—ended. The cats were replacements for the things I had loved—thought I loved—and couldn’t have. The things that had shut me out, things that had run away. Snow was the only person to see it for what it was, the only person to acknowledge how truly nuts my quirk was, and she hadn’t run away from it. She had wrapped her arms around my neck, kissed my lips, and accepted it.
And that acceptance …
Well, I didn’t shove her off, because of that. And because something told me I wasn’t destined to break her heart, and she wasn’t destined to break mine.
“Okay,” I accepted, wrapping my arms around her back, pressing her hard against me.
“Okay?” She tipped her forehead against mine. The hoop that hugged the center of her lower lip clacked against her teeth as she bit down.
“You can have Christmas with me,” I said, ignoring that small voice in my head as it whispered, “Disappointment.”
CHAPTER SIX |
CHRISTMAS & SUBMISSION
I parked Granny’s old Lincoln outside of my parents’ house and turned to Snow.
She wanted to impress them. She wouldn’t admit to it, but she didn’t have to. She had curled her hair, worn a dress … Hell, even her makeup was done in a way that made her look a little less like Elvira, and as if that wasn’t enough, she had even taken over my kitchen to bake a feckin’ pie.
“What?” she asked, when she caught me staring.
“Nothin’.” The corners of my mouth lifted, and she gave me a gentle shove.
“No, come on. What are you smiling about?”
“Ooh, Ryan’s gettin’ into trouble …” Granny laughed from the backseat.
“Watch it, old woman,” I said with a light chuckle, and I turned to Snow. “I just think it’s kinda nice that you’re makin’ an effort.”
“An effort?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I mean, obviously you’re trying to impress my family.”
Her pale skin flushed. “Don’t look into it, Ireland. It’s Christmas. I didn’t want to show up looking like The Crypt Keeper. So, stop trying to turn it into something it’s not, okay?”
And I tried not to look into it—really, I did. But as I watched the nervous movements of her hands and the telltale bite against her lip, I couldn’t help the webs my mind dared to weave. And I continued to observe the gentle way she helped Granny from the car. The way she clung to her pie tin and my arm as we climbed the creaking porch steps. And then, when she took a deep breath and smiled bravely at me before I reached out to grab at the doorknob of my childhood home, my mind dared me to do something I hadn’t done in a long time: I hoped.
My hand barely grazed the handle when the door flew open to reveal my sister-in-law, Kinsey. She smiled at me, at Granny, and then, she smiled something a little more curious at Snow. Her eyes glinted, glancing up at me with a little teasing smirk.
“Hey Ry, you brought a friend?” Her mouth twitched around the word “friend,” as though she knew it meant more than how she said it, and I had this sinking feeling that it was going to be a long feckin’ night.
I harrumphed and placed a hand between Snow’s shoulder blades. “Kinsey, this is Snow. Snow, this is my sister-in-law.”
“Ah, the new girl at the tattoo place,” Kinsey said with an acknowledging nod, and she looked up at me. “Doesn’t take you long, huh?”
“Feck off,” I growled, and I chuckled good-naturedly as I bent to wrap her in a big hug. “Merry Christmas, Kins.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. She looked over at Granny and smiled. “Merry Christmas to you too, Granny!”
“And to you as well, m’dear,” the old woman said with a smile and a pat on the arm.
“You’re Sean’s wife,” Snow stated the moment Kinsey was released from my grasp, stepping around me and into the house I grew up in, as though she had been there a thousand times before.
Kinsey smiled. “No, I’m married to Patrick.”
Snow turned to me, mouth open in shock. “Ireland, you didn’t tell me you have another brother!”
I thought to point out the obvious—that we had known each other for less than a week, and that the majority of our time together had been spent having sex. But, I didn’t want to embarrass her, didn’t want to show myself as the disappointment that I am, and I just smiled.
“Ah, yep, he’s—"
“Now, the party’s here!” As though he had heard me talking about him, that older brother announced his presence with his overpowering voice, walking into the room and heading straight toward Granny.
“Oh, get the hell outta my face, Paddy. Where are my great-grandbabies?” she said, but she laughed as he engulfed her frail little body with his arms and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hey old woman, ya gotta get through me before you can get to them,” he said, kissing her again. Then he stood, his attention diverted as he gently squeezed her shoulder. “Meg and Erin are in the kitchen with Mam and Da. Go make sure they don’t ruin dinner. Last I checked, they had Erin usin’ the blender.”
Erin was an infant.
I snorted. “You’re a feckin’ idiot,” I said with a laughing grin and a shake of my head.
“But somehow, we manage to put up with him, anyway,” Granny said, patting him in the center of the chest.
And with that, she tottered away to shower her great-grandchildren with hugs, kisses and money, leaving us alone in the living room. Patrick pulled me into a hug, clapping his hand against my back, but he kept a curious eye on Snow the whole time.
Kinsey spoke before I even had a chance. “Babe, Ryan brought a friend,” she said in that teasing voice she had used my entire life. She wiggled her brows up at him, and I glowered down at her. “This is Snow. You know, the new girl at Canvas & Ink?”
Patrick turned to look at Snow, and he smiled. “Ah, right. I heard ya were in town,” and then, he bent to kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve been meaning to stop in and welcome ya, but I haven’t had the chance.”
“No, he’s too busy harassing me at work.” Kinsey rolled her eyes over to her husband.
“What do you do?” Snow asked, eyes bouncing between them.
“I run McKenna’s Delicatessen,” Kinsey answered.
“So, you’re the gal to go to if I ever have a hankering for a pastrami sub?”
“Oh, hell yeah! And we also—”
“Don’t do it,” Patrick said with a warning shake of his head. “She’s the reason I’m wakin’ up an hour early to get more time in at the gym.”
“Nobody’s makin’ ya e
at a pound of potato salad every feckin’ day,” I groaned with a shove against his shoulder.
Snow exchanged a look with Kinsey, some unspoken words were said between them, and the two of them laughed. “Okay, so what do you do?” Snow asked him, and Patrick smiled, his symmetrical dimples emerging.
“I’m a cop.”
And with that, I waited for the twinkle that women got in their eyes when looking at him; my older brother who had made the best of a disappointing situation. He was the charmer, the taller and more handsome brother. He had the dimples, he had the eyes. He had the laugh, he had the uniform. And no, I wasn’t jealous of him, but I also knew that when standing next to him, I came in at second best. It wasn’t even pessimism. Nah, it was realism, and I knew my place on the Kinney Brother Pyramid.
But not Snow.
She didn’t get that glint when looking at his unshaven face or those dreamy eyes that Kinsey had always gone completely gaga over from the moment they knew that boys and girls were different. Nope, not Snow. She just smiled at him, like he wasn’t anything other than my brother married to the literal girl next door.
But more importantly, she didn’t look at him the way I had seen her look at me, and that felt like something. Something I could hope for. Something less like a disappointment, and more like something I wanted. Hell, maybe even something I needed.
❧
The last time I had brought a woman home to meet the family had been four years ago. The perfect summer afternoon for a backyard barbeque. The last one Patrick’s ex-wife, Christine, would attend.
Cheryl and I had been together for six months, and with her and her bouncing blonde ponytail by my side, I walked through the gate feeling like I had won the feckin’ lottery. That day Mam, Da, Patrick, Sean, and Christine’s jaws all hit the ground, seeing that Ivy League princess with her unmarked skin on my arm. They asked her how she managed to get strapped to a guy like me, asked me how I managed to get so lucky.
I didn’t have an answer to that question, because I had asked myself that every single day for the year and a half we spent together.
And as Snow and I moved through to the kitchen. I wondered what Mam was thinking when she got her first look at her and the ring piercing her septum. I wondered what Da was saying to himself when he caught sight of the tattoos on her fingers, tipped with freshly painted black nails.
I braced myself as Mam handed Patrick’s baby daughter Erin to his older daughter Meghan, and I closed my hands around themselves as she and Da made their way over to us.
“Ryan!” Mam reprimanded me, swatting gently at my arm. “Why didn’t ya say y’were bringin’ someone home?”
Snow shot a disapproving look up at me. “Ryan!” she hissed, nerves and embarrassment flushing her cheeks, and I shrugged my shoulders, already slumped with apprehension.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, and introduced my mother and father to Snow.
And I waited.
I waited for the darkened glances of disappointment that she wasn’t the blonde Harvard graduate they had once known. The one I drove away. The one that kicked me out. I waited for the slightest twitch of an upper lip, the disgust that I had brought home another girl with dyed black hair and tattoos to match mine.
But Mam just smiled at Snow, never once displaying judgment or ridicule, and she embraced her in true Helen Kinney fashion. Her arms wrapped around her shoulders as she said, “It’s lovely to meet ya, Snow, and what a gorgeous name y’have!”
Snow’s eyes shot toward mine, her anxiety dulling the gleam I usually found in them, and I smiled encouragingly. “U-um … Thank you, Mrs. Kinney, and I’m sorry for not reminding Ryan to tell you I was coming. It was a really last-minute decision, and I guess I had figured he would have said something to you beforehand,” Snow said. “If it’s too much trouble, don’t—”
Mam waved a hand with her signature carefree smile, gripping Snow’s shoulder. “Don’t y’worry, dear. I can easily make a space for ya at the table.”
Da, a man of very few words, tipped his head toward the pale and anxious Snow, and said, “Pleasure to meet ya, Snow.” And then, with a look shot from Mam, he added, “Ah, and don’t ya feel bad. There is always room at our table.”
And with a few shoved seats and a game of Shift the Plates, they did make a space for Snow, sandwiched between Meghan and me. While we ate, I caught myself watching her out of the corner of my eye. As she talked to Meghan about girly shite I knew little about. As she discussed recipes with Mam and Kinsey. As she chatted with Granny about this and that. As she answered Sean and Patrick’s prying questions. As she laughed along with Da’s excruciatingly painful dad jokes.
There were these moments when she’d glance over at me, smile with those soft pink lips, and I’d find my knee bumping up against hers. I’d put my hand on her thigh, daring my fingers to move higher. I’d imagine those lips on mine, wrapped in her limbs in the cold cavern of my bedroom, and I’d look back to my plate of Christmas dinner and wish I was there. Without all of those yammering family members keeping us from more important tasks.
“So, how did ya meet?” Mam finally asked the million-dollar question with a wide grin. Her cheeks were rosy from her two glasses of wine, and her eyes twinkled with the hope that I had finally met someone worth being with. Someone complementary to my aesthetic and personality.
All I could think though, was how awful I must’ve been for this woman to not want to commit to me, even as she ate my mother’s dry Christmas roast and over-boiled potatoes.
Snow took a sip of her water, her lips smiling against the glass. She looked up at me, and asked, “Do you want me to tell her?”
I cleared my throat and shrugged. “Ehm, well—”
“I’ll tell her,” she interrupted me, resting a hand on my arm, and my fist tightened around my fork. “So, I was heading to Canvas & Ink, and I accidentally walked into the vet clinic. Ryan here was sitting behind the desk, and I knew after just looking at him that I couldn’t leave without at least knowing his name.”
Her hand closed on my arm and my muscles tensed under her touch, hearing her tell the story as though it were an epic tale of boy-meets-girl. She kept out the dirty details of our fucking back at my place, and I saw the whimsical smiles spread across the faces of Mam and Kinsey. As though we were one of those cheesy, straight-to-TV movies they watched together on the weekends with a box of tissues between them.
“Women have never been able to resist the Kinney charm and good looks,” Da said, pointing his fork at Mam. “Isn’t that right, darlin’?”
Mam’s rosy cheeks deepened in color. “Clearly, my husband has had a few too many t’night, but …” She smiled, inclining her head toward Snow. “There’s really no denyin’ it, is there? Kinsey can vouch for me.”
My older brother wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her into him, and nodded. “I had her pinin’ after me for twelve feckin’ years before I got her to go out with me again.”
Snow’s eyes widened. “Twelve years?”
Patrick waved his hand in the air. “We had been together for a long time, we broke up, and she tried to resist—"
“How many times do we need to hear this story?” Granny quipped with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
“Seriously,” Kinsey groaned, swatting at Patrick’s chest. “And I still can’t figure out what the hell I was thinking. I should have just settled down with someone in New York while I had the chance.” She joked, rolling her eyes, but then she tilted her head against Paddy’s shoulder, and smiled in the way she had always smiled with him. Like their souls were fused from the moment they were born and that was the only reason we were dragged as infants to the U.S. of A.
I wondered if anybody would ever smile like that when looking at me, when being with me, when just thinking about me.
I wondered if that could be Snow and I wondered if maybe it already was.
❧
After dinner, as Snow gently played with Erin, I watche
d from the kitchen doorway. She rocked the little thing in her arms, cooing and grinning, and every so often, she’d turn to look at me. Delight was painted across her porcelain face, and I’d just toss her a half-smile while I still struggled to figure her out.
Patrick came up behind me with his all-knowing older-brotherly ways. “So, how long have ya been seein’ her?”
Without Mam or Da around to berate me for the truth, I scratched the back of my head and my mouth upturned in a sheepish grin. “Ehm, four days now?”
He laughed through his nose, shaking his head. “Okay, let me guess … You took one look at her and conned her into goin’ back to your place?”
“Believe it or not, it was the other way around,” I said, crossing my arms and laughing with him.
“No shite?” He raised his brows and I confirmed with a nod. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. Although I can’t understand why she’d want your arse,” he teased, and then nudged me in the ribs. “But you like her, right? I saw ya lookin’ at her during dinner.”
“Yeah, I think so.” Oh God, I did, but I didn’t want to say it so definitively. Not when she couldn’t commit to me.
“Well, she certainly likes you,” he said, leaning against the open doorframe, watching the strange woman fawn over his daughter like it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Ya think so?”
“Are you blind?” he laughed, smacking me on the back.
I considered that maybe I was. Figuratively, at least. Maybe I was so blinded by fear, by my past, that I was denying myself the privilege of seeing the way she looked at me from over there in the living room.
“She doesn’t want to be together,” I admitted, not knowing why. I heard the gentle melancholy in my tone, and I hung my head, scratched the back of my neck, and mentally berated myself for sounding like such a whiny bitch. Moping over a girl.
Patrick shrugged with a snort and a chuckle. “Dude, ya brought her over for Christmas, and she keeps lookin’ at ya like that.” He tipped his chin toward Snow with a smile as she looked up once again to grin at me. “If that’s not bein’ together, then I don’t know what is.”
To Fall for Winter Page 6
