Page 19 of The Only Heart that Matters
“Are you really trying to tell me you haven’t found her yet?”
Sure, I could lie, but it’s not as easy anymore. Because, I do know without a shadow of a doubt, that I have met the one.
“I may have, but it doesn’t mean I’m the one for her.”
“And why is that?”
“The list is long, and it’s Christmas Eve. We don’t have time to get through it before dinner.”
“If it’s meant to be, that list doesn’t mean a thing. There’s no stopping love once you find it.”
“Says the blushing bride. We aren’t all as lucky as you and Cal.”
She opens her mouth to reply but her fiancé interrupts before she gets the chance.
“Hands off,” Callen growls and pushes my arm from Charlotte’s shoulder.
Charlotte and I roll our eyes, but she loves his antics.
“You’re a Neanderthal, you know that?” she says, beaming at him.
“Sure do. Now get that fine ass of yours in the truck. We have some business to take care of before dinner.”
“Gross,” Daisy says, following behind them. “It’s the holidays, for Santa’s sake. Let your gift to us be that you keep your sex life to yourselves for the rest of the Christmas season.”
“You’re the one who went there. If that is what you call business, then that’s on you, little sis. I can neither confirm nor deny what said business is.”
Charlotte mouths, “Sorry,” as they get in the truck.
“Got to go. I’ll see you at Mom's in a couple hours.” Daisy lifts onto her tiptoes to give me a hug. “Thanks again for everything you’re doing for Mia. You're a lifesaver.”
“I’m happy to help.”
As much as this whole thing feels like some sort of self-induced torture, it settles me. I need to know that the two of them are safe and taken care of more than I need my next breath.
Once the holidays and the wedding are over, I’ll need to put some distance between us. I’ll be fresh out of excuses to be around her.
Well, there is that whole fake husband thing.
Chapter Nine
Mia
“You know, I’ll never be able to thank Angus enough for letting you two stay here. Not only is it a beautiful home, but I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re on the McKinnon ranch,” my mom gushes for the umpteenth time, while she helps me handwash my cookware, and Dad plays with Sawyer in the family room.
Angus has gone from war hero to walking on water status in my mother’s eyes. She’s right about the house, though. It’s not a simple one-bedroom cottage he’s giving up for us. It’s a beautiful custom-made home, big enough for a family of four or even five if you turn the office into a bedroom. The high ceilings with exposed beams are straight out of an architecture magazine and the kitchen is a dream. It’s huge, but somehow when Angus and I were in here together this morning, there wasn’t room for the both of us. We kept bumping into one another. Even just a slight graze from him as he passed by sent shivers all over my body.
It was way too close for comfort.
When I saw the tree, and then Sawyer’s room, I was beside myself with emotion. He really is kind. He’s a great friend.
“It’s only temporary, but I agree. He’s gone above and beyond. I still can’t believe he offered us his home.”
When she doesn’t continue raving about St. Angus, I turn to find her standing at the sink, where she had been handwashing a mixing bowl, letting the water run as she stares out the window.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
When again, she says nothing, I follow her gaze out the window, but there’s nothing there. Reaching in front of her, I turn the water off and put my hand on top of hers. “Mom, what is it?”
