Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Our plan backfired,” Adalia said, aghast. “Now we have to spend Christmas with them.”

“Well, technically Christmas Eve,” Maisie said. “Hopefully Santa Claus will take pity on us and whisk them away at midnight instead of leaving gifts.”

“This is no laughing matter!” Adalia insisted, her voice so adamant, her curls bobbed.

Which only made Maisie want to laugh—not at her friend, but because it was sort of funny that a couple of yes RSVPs had led to this emergency summit in Beau Buchanan’s old living room. How bad could two people be? Prescott Buchanan might think he was some kind of god, but he was just a man, like any other. And Victoria? Her boyfriend might let her boss him around, for yet-to-be-determined reasons, but she didn’t scare Maisie.

Except Maisie didn’t laugh, because her gaze found Jack. He’d gone silent and pale upon learning about his father’s holiday plans. And why shouldn’t he? Prescott might have been a bad father to the three children he acknowledged, but from what she could tell, he’d been a nonexistent father to Jack.

Great, you found another one with parent issues , she could practically hear Mary saying, but Mary could stuff a sock in it. It sucked, the way the Prescott news had punctured the little bubble she and Jack and Iris had been in all evening. They’d found their way to a comfortable place where Iris didn’t feel the need to act out, and Jack and Maisie didn’t feel the need to define whatever was growing between them, and then suddenly it had fallen apart. Iris’s glower had come back the second she learned an “emergency” family issue had come up—“They’re not my family,” she’d said—and Einstein, who’d been tolerating Jack all evening, had randomly started barking at him until they left, all of them, for Beau’s old house.

Finn still wasn’t back from Charlotte, so Maisie was standing in for both best men. Except she was currently sitting, watching Adalia as she paced the living room, followed by Tyrion, who seemed to have picked up on her anxiety. Jack sat on the sofa next to Maisie, although he’d put a healthy distance between them, she’d noticed, and Dottie sat in a chair across from them, knitting an animal sweater. Given the size, she suspected it was for Tyrion, something that was completely unnecessary considering his thick coat. Jezebel watched them all imperiously from atop the kitchen cupboards.

They hadn’t invited River and Georgie for the conversation. Adalia had insisted they develop a “strategy” before taking it to the happy couple.

In all honesty, Maisie could understand why Iris had run up to her room the second they’d arrived. Although Iris was technically in the wedding party, she’d only agreed on the condition that she didn’t have to talk about the wedding up until the actual day. Which was a deal Maisie kind of wished she’d thought to ask for.

“I will not let them ruin this for Georgie,” Adalia continued.

“Or River,” Dottie said. She shot a look at Maisie, and it was obvious she was thinking about the holiday season many years ago when her niece had come to visit and then frittered off to places unknown, leaving her son behind. Maybe she assumed Maisie was thinking about that too, but actually her mind was on Jack. On what it would be like for him to drink beer and eat canapés with the father who’d so soundly rejected him.

“So we warn them off before the party,” Maisie said. “I’d be more than happy to give this Victoria a talking-to.”

There was that rueful half-smile on Jack again, and Maisie promised herself she’d get another full one before the night was through.

Dottie set aside her knitting and took a sip of her tea, which she’d doctored with a healthy pour of whiskey, Maisie had noted—she’d offered one to everyone, but Maisie had declined. She’d had one of Dottie’s “medicinal teas” before, and it was not possible to operate a motor vehicle afterward. In fact, she’d probably have to end up driving Dottie home.

“This may be an opportunity, my dears,” Dottie said. “No one’s mentioned a bachelor or bachelorette party. We so rarely get to see our Lee.” To Maisie’s understanding, Dottie had met him all of once, but she spoke about him as if he were a dear friend. The lost Buchanan child. “And this may be our only chance to celebrate Georgie and River like they deserve, with the full wedding party.” A crafty look stole over her eyes. “If we have the bachelor and bachelorette parties before the engagement party, it will give us a chance to talk to Victoria and Prescott individually. They need to understand, in no uncertain terms, that they are to behave or bear the consequences.”

Adalia, who’d just taken a large gulp of the tea she was carrying on her walkabout, nearly choked.

“Wait a second,” Jack said, and it struck Maisie that it was one of the first things he’d said since they’d arrived. “We’re still ironing out the plans for the engagement party, and now we’re planning more parties? This is all going down in less than three weeks.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Dottie said, waving a hand. “Adalia’s the maid of honor. She’ll plan the bachelorette celebration, and Finn and Maisie will handle the bachelor party. I’ll help all of you in an advisory capacity, of course”—meaning she’d try to take over—“but I plan on asking Prescott to have dinner with me that night so you young people can have your fun.”

She said it in a way that charged up Maisie’s curiosity. From what she’d heard, Prescott hadn’t bothered to hide his disdain for Dottie at the will reading. Why was she so sure he’d accept her invitation? The implication was that Dottie had something on him…but what?

“Why don’t we just have a joint party?” Jack asked.

“Because we need to separate Victoria and Lee if we’re going to give her a talking-to,” Adalia said, her eyes shining. “And because Dottie needs to work her magic on our father.”

She said it with the faith of a convert.

“So you’re on board with this?” he asked, his gaze starting on his sister and ending on Maisie.

She shrugged. “Sure. I won’t have to spend time with either of them if Victoria’s at the bachelorette party and your father’s with Dottie.”

“Oh no,” Adalia said, setting her doctored tea down on the coffee table with an emphatic smack that implied she’d already imbibed plenty of it. “You’re not turning your back on the bachelorette party.”

“But I’m the co-best man!” Maisie objected. She waved a hand at Jack. “And River and Jack need a buffer.” She’d meant they needed a buffer from Prescott, should he join them, but it hadn’t come out right. A little rush of panic reminded her that this was River’s bachelor party. She was supposed to be upset about that, wasn’t she? Did she really want to be there with Jack? It sounded like a cluster of epic proportions.

“I need your help with Victoria,” Adalia said. “If the message comes only from me, she’ll go crying to Lee.”

“And Lee doesn’t know who I am,” Maisie finished, inclining her head.

“Something tells me he’ll know soon enough,” Jack muttered, but he’d said it almost proudly, and Maisie felt a little swell in her chest. “But I would like it if you came to the bachelor party too.” The swell got bigger, but his next words deflated it right back down. “And I’m sure River will be disappointed if you’re not there.”

“Okay,” Adalia said, grabbing her drink and starting to pace again. Maisie couldn’t help but smile when Tyrion, who’d sat down to rest, immediately leapt to his feet to join her. Oh, he was a loyal one. “So Dottie will take care of Dad, and Maisie and I will be on Victoria duty. We’ll send Maisie over to your party after she helps with ours.” She nodded resolutely. “We can do this. I’ll call Georgie and tell her our plan.”

Again, Maisie felt a compulsion to laugh, but she didn’t. Because she did want the wedding to go well. She wanted it for River. And hell, she wanted the engagement party to go well for Jack’s sake too. Something told her he was depending on it. He’d told her and Iris a little about the arrangements he made earlier, and it was charming, beyond charming, that he was going to so much effort.

Adalia walked off, apparently intending to call Georgie now , and Dottie finished off the last of her tea.

“Maisie, will you be a dear and drive me home?” she asked, just like Maisie had predicted.

“Of course,” she said, but even as she went to grab her keys from her pocket, Dottie shook her head.

“No, not quite yet.” She lifted the green sweater on her knitting needles. “Jezebel’s run off somewhere, and I need to find her to make sure the armholes fit.”

“Um, Dottie, that sweater’s a little big for a cat. I figured you were making something for Tyrion.”

Dottie clucked her tongue, getting to her feet. “Huskies don’t need sweaters, dear. I would have thought you’d know that. This is a dress.”

She disappeared into the house, leaving Jack and Maisie looking at each other. He had a flat expression, but she’d come to realize he looked like that when he hadn’t yet decided how to react. So it didn’t surprise her much when he smiled. This wasn’t one of his big, unstudied smiles from earlier in the night, though—this one took work.

“A dress for a cat, huh? Maybe she’s onto something.”

“Probably not.” She leaned into him a little before realizing what she was doing, pulled by the electric current between them. “I’m sorry he’s coming.”

“Who, River? He has to, given it’s a celebration for his wedding and all.” He’d meant it as a joke, obviously, but it still made her feel self-conscious and raw, which was probably the way she was making Jack feel by bringing up his father.

“It’s okay,” she said, “we don’t have to talk about it. We can spend the rest of the time before Dottie comes back speculating about adding a cat clothing line to Dog is Love. It would totally be on brand, don’t you think?”

He smiled again, and this one was more genuine, more him. “Yeah, I’m sorry he’s coming too. Before the will reading, I hadn’t seen him since I was eleven. He came to visit me a few times when I was a kid. At the time I thought he was trying to get to know me, but I eventually realized he was really testing me.” He shrugged. “He made his call, and I’m grateful for it.”

“What happened the last time he came to see you?” Maisie asked. Because she really was too curious for her own good. And also because she wanted to know how much of a hard time to give his father.

He scratched his jawline, drawing her attention to his heavy stubble. She wanted to feel it rubbing against her thighs again, but not as much as she wanted to hear his answer.

“He offered to send me to a prestigious boarding school, but only if I agreed to completely disavow my mother and sign an NDA of my own the moment I turned eighteen.”

She bit her lip. “You said no because of Iris?”

“This was before Iris,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I said no because screw him. He doesn’t get to make the rules.”

She leaned closer again, needing to be near him without understanding why she did, and he reached out and touched her thigh, his fingers searing her. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of approaching footsteps reached them, and he jolted away as if she were diseased. That stung a little, but she understood. It could have been Iris.

Instead, it was Dottie, her mouth pursed as she held what had been a cat dress and was now a snarled and ripped collection of yarn.

“I guess we have our answer on the cat dress,” Jack said, giving her a look that she interpreted as a sort of apology. He hadn’t liked being interrupted either, but she understood without him saying so that nothing else had changed. He was still hesitant to explore this thing between them.

“I guess we do,” she said, getting to her feet. “Ready, Dottie?”

“I suppose so,” Dottie said. “Really, I hate to say it, but sometimes Jezebel can be difficult, the dear.”

Jack and Maisie exchanged another look and burst out laughing.

“Oh, you two,” Dottie said, waving a hand. “Come on now. I need to get home so I can consult the books before I go to bed.”

It seemed a pointless endeavor to ask which books. Undoubtedly they were wholly unscientific.

“Goodnight, Jack,” Maisie said, wanting to touch him but feeling a little unsure of herself.

He studied her for a moment, then got to his feet and pulled her into a hug, those strong arms of his wrapping around her in a way that made her eyes prickle.

Oh God, did she have tears in her eyes? What was wrong with her?

“Goodnight, Red,” he said softly. And if the tears hadn’t been there before, that was enough to put them there. No one called her that anymore, and yet it felt strangely right coming from him. Almost like her father was telling her that he approved.

You’ve really lost it now. You’re starting to think like Dottie talks.

But as she walked toward the car with Dottie, she couldn’t help but look back. Jack waved to them from the door, and a sentimental part of her was happy to see it.

Once they were in the car, she expected Dottie to launch into some sort of lecture about the stars, but instead Dottie was silent for a few minutes. Finally, she said, “You know, there was a time when I thought you were going to marry my River.”

And Maisie almost sideswiped a parked car.

Heart pounding, she said, “Crap. Dottie, don’t say things like that while I’m driving.”

Dottie chuckled softly. “The universe has a beautiful way of working things out, doesn’t it? You were meant to join the Buchanan family all along.”

“Are you talking about Lee?” Maisie said in disgust. “Trust me, I can tell he’s not my type, and vice versa.”

“No, I’m talking about Jack.”

Which nearly led to another sideswipe. God, couldn’t Dottie have waited for this heart-to-heart?

“Jack has made it very clear he isn’t looking for a relationship right now.”

“Oh, my dear, we’re so rarely looking for the things we need.”

There was a pulse of truth to that, so much so that she didn’t question Dottie further, and they sat in contemplation of those words until Maisie pulled up to the little purple house where everything had changed for her. Twice.