by Aven Ellis
“CiCi told Mommy that Holly really likes you, but you shouldn’t be wild if you want to marry her. You need to be weesponsible. And nice. Like Shining Armor is to Princess Cadence.”
What?
Gah!
I don’t even know what the last part of that sentence means, but I don’t care. Matt said he’s all in but talk of marriage?
He’ll be breaking up with me as soon as lunch is over.
“What?” Matt asks, a crease forming in the middle of his brow.
Just then Bella erupts all over Matt’s shoulder, vomiting baby milk down the back of his leather jacket and jeans, and nailing the floor.
She bursts into tears.
Somebody shoot me.
“I didn’t do anything,” Matt cries, a panicked look on his face.
“Please, you might be talented, Matthew, but even you can’t make a baby throw up by holding it,” CiCi says, taking Bella from his arms. “We need to get you a towel and some clean clothes. Aga! Aga, I need you!”
“I have a My Little Pony shirt in my room here,” Claire offers. Then she looks up at Matt. “It has Pinky Pie on it. Do you like her?’
“Oh, Claire, that is sweet, thank you, but I don’t think it will fit Matthew,” CiCi says. “Matthew, I’m afraid I don’t have anything except an extra bathrobe that would work for you. I’ll have Aga get that and put it in the guest bathroom for you to change into.”
“You want me to wear your bathrobe?” Matt asks, incredulous.
“Well, you aren’t going to have lunch in clothing soaked with sour breast milk, are you?” CiCi says as if this is obvious. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back. I think Bella has some kind of stomach bug because she never vomits like that. Come along, Claire, we’ll take care of your sister, and then we’ll have lunch. Aga! Are you stuck in the tree closet? I need you!”
They head down the long hallway to retrieve Aga from the tree closet, leaving Matt and me in the foyer alone.
I dare to look at him, and I see the sexy tug on the corner of his mouth curve up.
And I know everything is going to be okay.
Matt lifts his arm and pushes back the sleeve of his gray dress shirt, checking the huge watch on his left wrist.
I’m momentarily distracted because the watch and dress shirt combo is so hot.
“We’ve been here five minutes. I’ve seen a Christmas tree on wheels, I’ve been puked on, and now I’m going to wear the owner’s girlfriend’s bathrobe while eating lunch. This is insane, and I’m the crazy one?”
And then we both burst out laughing.
Matt carefully steps over the baby vomit, and gently takes off his coat. I have to give him credit. A lot of young guys wouldn’t handle being covered in baby throw up, but Matt is doing fine.
“Mr. Rhinelander,” Aga says, coming around the corner. “I have some towels and a robe in the bathroom down the hall for you. I’ll take your coat and jeans and see what I can do.”
“No, that’s not your job,” Matt says. “If you could give me a trash bag for the jacket, I’ll take that to the cleaners. And if you show me where the laundry is, I can wash the jeans myself.”
Okay, he earned major bonus points for that.
“What? Oh, no, Mr. Rhinelander, I’ll wash them. CiCi wouldn’t approve of you doing your own laundry here,” Aga insists.
“All right. But trash bag for the jacket. I’ll clean it up and put it outside. I’ll grab it on the way out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Matt turns to me. “Please excuse me while I go freshen up.”
I giggle, and he flashes me a smile before disappearing around the corner.
I make my way toward the kitchen and find that CiCi has the table set for lunch. A blue and white porcelain vase full of white roses and green branches, beautiful china, crystal glasses. Everything is classy, but that is how CiCi operates.
“We’re back!” Claire yells triumphantly, climbing into her chair with the booster seat at the table. “Where is Matt?”
“He’s changing,” I say, smiling at her.
“I’m dreadfully sorry about that,” CiCi says, gently putting Bella into her highchair. “Bella doesn’t have a fever, so I don’t know what that was about.”
“What can I help you with, CiCi?” I ask, moving next to her.
“If you would be a dear and transfer the salads on the counter to those serving bowls, that would be lovely. Princess, CiCi is going to heat up your macaroni and cheese now, okay?”
“Okay, CiCi,” Claire says, bobbing her head in agreement. “Then can Matt play My Little Pony with me? He can be Prince Shining Armor because he’s a boy.”
I smile as I put a tossed salad into a large serving bowl.
“And Holly, you can play too! You can be Princess Cadence.”
“Um, okay,” I say. Claire might as well be speaking in Russian to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“And then you will kiss Matt because Princess Cadence marries Shining Armor.”
I drop the fork I’m holding. Heat floods my face. I don’t want CiCi to know we’re seeing each other, so I need to play this off. I’m about to respond when CiCi speaks first.
“Insightful child, isn’t she?” CiCi says.
I turn around, and she has her perfectly tweezed eyebrow arched at me.
She’s worse than The Godfather.
“Did you know Princess Cadence had a baby pony? Princess Flurry Heart.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say, shifting all my attention to the pasta salad.
“Oh, yes, she did. Will you and Matt have a baby, too?”
Oh dear God, she didn’t say that.
“Um, no, Matt and I are just friends,” I say, smiling at Claire and praying the heat in my face goes away.
“Can’t friends have babies?”
In desperation, I look to CiCi.
But she merely smiles as she puts Claire’s lunch in the microwave.
“Who is having a baby?” Matt asks, walking into the kitchen.
I stop what I’m doing and stare at him. My mouth pops open.
He is wearing nothing but a white, terry-cloth robe that hits him at the knees because he’s so tall. It has pink piping on the collar, cuffs, and sash, and he looks ridiculous in it.
I bite down on my tongue to keep from laughing.
Claire immediately falls into giggles. “You look silly!” she squeals in delight.
My heart warms. I love the sound of her pure laughter.
Matt rakes a hand through his golden curls. “It is funny, isn’t it?” he says, grinning at Claire.
“Yes!”
“Matthew, would you be a dear and pour some iced tea for us? I also have lemonade or water if you prefer.”
“Iced tea is great, thank you.” Matt moves past me, and I almost lose it when I see the back of his robe has “Mother of the Bride” embroidered in bright pink.
Oh my God. This must be CiCi’s robe from when Amanda got married!
Matt, one of the hottest hockey players in the league, is strolling around CiCi’s kitchen with a way-too-short robe with “Mother of the Bride” slapped on the back.
I’m laughing so hard I’m shaking trying to repress it. Tears fill my eyes. It takes every bit of power I have not to fall into a fit of hysterical giggles.
Matt is pouring iced tea into glasses, and I don’t dare look at him. I can’t.
The microwave beeps, and CiCi takes out Claire’s lunch and brings it to the table.
As soon as she’s at the table, Matt slides next to me, dipping his head toward mine.
“What is so funny?” he murmurs in my ear.
Mmm. I’m momentarily distracted by the wonder
ful scent lingering on his curls.
“Tell me,” he whispers.
I cough. “Have you seen the back of your robe?” I ask quietly.
“What? No.”
Dying. I’m absolutely dying.
“You’re the Mother of the Bride today.”
“What?”
“That is what is written on the back of your robe.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not.” Then I begin to laugh. “And it’s the funniest thing ever.”
“This can’t get any weirder,” Matt declares.
“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on that,” I say, flashing him a smile. “We haven’t even started lunch yet.”
I take the salads to the table, and Matt brings the iced tea. CiCi places a platter of lemon-grilled shrimp in front of us, and I’m ready to dig in.
“Well, thank you both for coming today,” CiCi says, smiling at us as she places a linen napkin in her lap.
“Thank you for having us,” Matt says.
“Please, eat,” CiCi encourages. “Matthew, you’ll be watching the game from the press box tonight, correct?”
I wince. This is his penalty for missing practice. He won’t play in tonight’s game against Seattle.
“That’s right.”
“Is Uncle Nate playing?” Claire asks, stuffing some mac and cheese into her mouth.
“Yes, love. He is.”
“It’s funny when Uncle Nate is on TV,” Claire says through a mouth full of food.
“Ma ma ba la la,” Bella declares, grabbing some Gerber puffs with her chubby fist.
“Claire, please finish eating before speaking.” CiCi places some salad on her plate and shifts her gaze to me. “Holly, what are your plans? Are you going to stay in Dallas?”
I nod. “I am. I’m in the process of looking for work right now.”
“Writing?”
I think of how Nate and Harrison wanted to pay me to help Matt and shake the image from my head. Thank God Matt will never know about that conversation. It would infuriate him. And possibly make him more defiant than ever, even if we’re doing it for his own good.
I glance at him. Besides, this isn’t work to me. It never was. This is spending time with the man I’m seeing. Period.
“I hope,” I say. “But I need something so I can move out of Nate’s place. He’s been very generous, but I need my own space. So I’m open to anything at this point.”
“I see,” CiCi says thoughtfully. “Well, I’m very well connected in Frisco and Dallas. I’d be happy to see what I could do for you.”
Ha, The Godfather strikes again.
“I would appreciate that,” I say. “Thank you.”
“It’s all who you know,” CiCi says, pausing to take a bite of shrimp. “Right, Matthew?”
I glance at Matt, who looks like he’s about to choke on his pasta.
“Um, yes,” he says, reaching for his tea.
We continue to chitchat until Claire is finished eating.
“May I go play My Little Pony now?” Claire asks CiCi.
“Of course you may,” CiCi says, wiping her tiny mouth with a napkin. “Thank you for having such good manners.”
“You’re welcome, CiCi,” Claire says, popping down off her booster seat. Then she looks at Matt. “Will you be Shining Armor later?”
“He’s a prince,” CiCi says knowingly. “Do you have it in you to be a prince?”
She’s so not talking about My Little Pony.
“He can be a prince, CiCi,” Claire says eagerly.
“I don’t know,” CiCi says carefully. “Shining Armor is very brave. A leader. Protective. And caring. Do you want to be these things, Matthew?”
I shift my gaze to Matt. If he’s thrown by CiCi’s question, he doesn’t show it.
“I do,” Matt says, his voice firm.
“Yay! Are you ready to play, Matt?” Claire asks, running around to his side of the table. “You will be a good Shining Armor!”
“I’m ready,” Matt says, his blue eyes shifting toward me. “And I’ll try really hard to be a good prince. Everything the ponies and the princess need him to be.”
My heart flutters inside my chest at his words.
Matt’s not speaking to Claire.
He’s speaking to me.
Chapter 13
The Game Plan for January 4th
√Continue work on novel.
√Update LinkedIn account with new contacts.
√Apply for any jobs I’d remotely be qualified for.
√Apply for utterly crappy jobs I’d hate.
√Be brave enough to confirm balance in checking account.
√Spend the day with Matt!
I’m giddy.
Yes. Giddy. I know I’m beaming without looking in a mirror. I pull on a jacket and wind a scarf around my neck because it’s seriously cold in Dallas today. Matt texted me that he was leaving practice and is going to pick me up so we can do our “ice storm” emergency food shopping and have lunch together.
I laugh to myself as I glance at Nate’s TV. The weather people are forecasting several inches of snow and some ice. People are absolutely freaking out. Coming from the Midwest, I don’t get it. Why are people panicking about a little snow? In Minnesota, this would be laughable. But then again, I don’t think I will ever get used to 100-degree summers if Dallas becomes my home, so when that happens, Texans like Kenley can totally mock me.
The key turns in the lock, and Marabou leaps toward the door. I know Kenley has several classes booked today on how to make gourmet hot chocolates and desserts to pair with them, so it has to be Nate.
“Hey,” Nate says cheerfully as he opens the door. “Going out to brave the very dangerous one inch of snow coming our way?”
He bends down to pet Marabou.
“I know! Everyone acts like a massive blizzard is coming,” I say.
Nate grins at me. “Don’t say that in front of Kenley. She says we don’t understand that they never drive on snow or ice. Or have snow tires.”
I consider that. “Okay, that’s fair, but still. People are going nuts. It’s all over the news this morning—the impending weather catastrophe.”
“I knew you sat around and watched TV while waiting for Matt duties to resume,” Nate teases, standing back up.
I grimace as he drops his duffel bag to the floor.
“It’s not like that,” I say.
Nate cocks an eyebrow and puts his keys on the granite kitchen island. “When are you seeing him next? You’ve gotten him through one day so far.”
My mind flashes back to spending hours kissing Matt yesterday, entwined in his arms, and how perfect everything seemed simply being together.
As we should have been all along.
“Now, actually. He’s going to pick me up, and we’re going to hit Central Market for groceries.”
“Well done. I like how easily you are fitting into his schedule. He’s probably afraid to say no to you because you’re my sister.”
Oh God. If Nate only knew how excited we both are to spend the day together.
“Um, I guess,” I say, anxiously fidgeting with the knot on my bright pink scarf.
“We need to talk about money,” Nate says, opening the sleek stainless steel refrigerator and retrieving a bottle of water.
“No, we don’t.”
Nate shuts the door, his brown eyes locking on mine.
“Don’t be like that. You need money. It’s a job.”
“It’s helping a friend.”
“If you were a life coach, you’d be paid. A therapist would be paid. So would a freaking babysitter. So, would you please be reasonable and let me give you so
me money?”
“Nate, I’m not discussing this anymore. No.”
Nate lets out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re so damn stubborn.”
“And where did I get that from?” I tease.
Nate unscrews the cap from his water bottle and takes a swig. “You’re still infuriating, even if you are like me.”
But then he smiles, so I know he’s going to let it drop.
For now.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table.
“That’s probably Matt,” I say, butterflies shifting in my stomach as I move over to the table and pick it up. Indeed, it is Matt.
I’m downstairs. Will you grant me access, por favor?
I grin as I text him back.
Ah Español. Sí, Señor. Heads up Nate is here. I told him we are food shopping in preparation for the massive epic dangerous blizzard that is apparently about to happen.
I wait for his reply.
Sí, Yo hablo Espaňol. Yo sé más de hockey.
I have no idea what the second sentence says but it’s hot that Matt is bilingual.
I go ahead and let him in and then grab my blush-colored Ted Baker Tote. It’s huge, but I love it because I can not only fit my small “To Do” list planner, but my huge Lilly Pulitzer planner I use for scheduling and goal tracking, too. I don’t go anywhere without my planners. I’m a planner addict.
And this afternoon I hope to be updating it with plans to spend lots of time with Matt. Butterflies shift in my stomach again.
“Is he coming up?” Nate asks, lifting his eyes up from his phone.
“Yes.” I slip into my Tahari charcoal-gray wrap coat, tying the belt into a knot.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d feel like I’m about to send you out on a first date with Matt.”
Shit.
“Very funny,” I say, playing along.
“It is funny. I can’t think of two people worst suited for each other as far as dating goes,” Nate says, rubbing his hand over the scruff along his jawline. “You’re complete opposites.”
