Mistletoe and Mr. Right by Lyla Payne

Author:Lyla Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619638174
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Ready then?” Grady growls when I step outside, squinting in the bright sunshine. He peers closer at my face and his frown deepens as he steps toward me. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Not anymore.

I make it clear with my tone and crossed arms that questions aren’t welcome even though the concern etched on his handsome face makes me want to fall into his arms and sob away my troubles. He respects my nonverbal cues, though it doesn’t stop his expression of disgust.

The chill in the air does nothing to dampen the beauty of gray-blue skies stretching all the way to the horizon. Pristine white snow, nothing like the black slush that passes for the same thing in cities at home, and the gray rock and purple hues pushing through on the hillsides remind me that while the States can be beautiful in the winter, I’m not there. I’m somewhere new and wonderful, and this is an adventure that shouldn’t be wasted no matter how things turn out between my boyfriend and me.

I cast a glance at Grady, who’s stretching his arms above his head and taking in the scenery with a rapt expression that would be more at home on someone who doesn’t wake up to such a thing every single day.

Excitement dribbles past my sorrow. “I’m ready. How are we getting there?”

“The McCormacks are just a couple of plots over. We’ll walk unless you’d rather not.” His blue eyes, brighter than the sky today, dare me to object.

Thoughts of cold, wet feet and the likelihood of stepping in clumps of mud—or what I hope will be mud—dance through my head. The great outdoors and I have a relationship of respect. Which is to say I stay out of it as much as possible and it agrees not to go out of its way to kill me.

That said, there is no way I’m giving Grady the satisfaction of proving I’m not up to this little excursion before we even get out the door. “Sure, let’s walk.”

He raises his eyebrow but doesn’t comment, taking off toward the sun without waiting. I take a few skips to catch up, then have to double-time it through the calf-deep snow to match his lengthy stride.

My breath plumes out past my lips harder and harder, clouds of wispy white dissipating before Grady can notice, but we’ve only gone about five hundred yards before he looks back to check on me. He slows his pace without comment, and I would breathe a sigh of relief if I had any extra air.

“Thanks for at least trying to prepare me for Katie,” I start, feeling like chatting even though an hour ago I just wanted to be alone. And okay, wondering if Grady might be able to give me something—anything—that makes me feel better about Brennan having kept his past from me.

“Nothing can prepare a person for the loveliness that is Katie McBride,” Grady replies, eyeing me. “And your boyfriend should have done that, not me.”

Everything may not be wine and roses at the moment, but I’m not going to bad-mouth Brennan behind his back.

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