Chapter Thirteen

Mark

I ’ve never thought about having kids.

Sasha wanted them, but it was never something I was interested in.

Maybe that’s why our relationship ended.

And yet, five years later, I have a fully grown forty-three-year-old child sitting in front of me, sighing loudly to try and garner my attention.

When McLanahan lets out another dramatic sigh, I roll my eyes, finally fed up. “What?” I ask, wondering why he’s acting like a five-year-old.

He shrugs, running his finger over the rim of the glass. “I miss Johnson,” he murmurs, making me narrow my eyes down at him. “Why the hell couldn’t he come have a drink with me, anyway?”

Seriously? That’s what’s got him sighing and sulking all day?

“Because he’s at his daughter’s school Christmas musical,” I remind him. “You know this.”

He shrugs again, pouting down at his empty glass. “I guess. I just wish he invited me along.”

I arch a brow. “You want to go to a school musical?” I personally couldn’t think of anything worse than having to listen to out-of-tune children attempt to sing Christmas carols.

He sighs again. “I just want to be included , Mark. Keep up.”

I shake my head, not able to handle him. “You two are like a married couple, I swear.”

McLanahan lets out a gasp. “Don’t you dare insult my Maurine like that. She’s the apple of my eye, the peanut to my butter, the beer to my belly.” I arch a brow. “I just wanted to be thought of for a change. I invited him and his wife to our Christmas Eve potluck, but did I get an invite back? No . Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. “Not even a bleeding ticket to the school musical.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, pinching my nose. “I just… I don’t… you know what? I give up.” I throw my hands up, shaking my head. “Next time he comes in, you can argue all you want about your invitations and potlucks. I’m out.”

“ Ahhh ,” he says, dipping his chin. “Jealous, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” I say with an eye roll.

His shoulders shake with a laugh. “I think you’re a big fat liar.”

I shouldn’t even entertain him, but I arch my brow anyway. “What would I be jealous of, exactly?”

“You don’t have any plans for Christmas, do you?” he says, a teasing smirk plastered on his stupid, smug face.

I cross my arms, my brows dipping. “I’m working.”

“On Christmas day?” he asks, his eyebrows arching in surprise .

“People still drink,” I say with a shrug. McLanahan blinks slowly, unmoving as he stares at me. My frown deepens. “Quit doing that. It’s creepy.”

“You can’t be serious,” he says, incredulous.

I shrug again. “It’s not like I have anything else to do, like you pointed out,” I tell him, the muscle in my jaw ticking.

“Aw, come on. I was only kidding.” His mouth twists. “You could always come over to our house,” he suggests with a grin. “Johnson and his wife and children will be there—though the jury’s still out on whether I should uninvite him or not,” he says with a bitter scoff.

I shudder at the thought of being in another person’s house, surrounded by screaming children. Besides, I’m not coming along just because he feels guilty. I don’t need anyone’s pity. “I’m good,” I tell him, polishing off a glass. “I have to stay here and take care of Mia, anyway.”

“Bring her along. C’mon it’ll be fun.” he says, his brows dipping as he meets my eyes. “It’s Christmas. You have to take a day off sometime.”

My body tightens at the reminder of last week. The one day I take off every year, and how this year it was completely different. Holly made that day more than just a crappy reminder that everything in life is shit. She made that day… fun. She made it special, warm and—

Before I can finish my thought, the door swings open with a jingle of the bell hanging above the door, and my head jerks up seeing Holly burst inside, her cheeks flushed and her hair wild from the wind .

“Jesus, Bambi,” I say, noting the million and one bags hiding her small frame. “You look like you’ve been running.”

“I have,” she says, letting out an exhausted breath as she drops all of her bags down onto the ground before she takes a seat at the bar.

“And why’s that?” I ask her, grabbing a glass to make a drink for her without thinking about it. Don’t know if she even wants a drink right now, but it kind of looks like she needs one.

“I went present shopping,” she says.

I raise an eyebrow. “And that’s an activity that requires running?” I ask, a little amused.

Holly laughs, a bright infectious sound that makes my chest jump. “You haven’t been present shopping with me before,” she says with a smirk. “It’s practically a sport.”

I slide a Cosmo across the bar to her. “I think you’d have me dead before we even made it out of the store,” I joke, although… is it really a joke?

She lets out a relieved breath and gives me a sheepish smile. “Thanks,” she says, grabbing the glass before drinking half the contents in one large gulp. “Usually Olivia comes shopping with me, but she’s pregnant and can’t run or fight, so I thought it would be better to go alone.”

I blink. “Fight?” I repeat, hoping—praying I heard the wrong word.

She shakes her head, a soft laugh leaving her. “Oh, Mark. You have no idea how vicious women are when there’s a good sale. ”

I shake my head, not even wanting to know in case I accidentally become an accessory to murder. “Did you get any good presents?” I ask.

“Lots,” she replies, her eyes lighting up. “I even got you one.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. “You did?”

“Of course,” she replies with a playful grin. “You’re my friend now, Mark.”

Her words elicit some weird fucking fluttering feeling in my stomach. And I don’t like it. Don’t like it at all. “How the hell did I get roped into this?” I ask, her previous words repeating themselves in my head over and over again.

She chuckles, lifting her shoulders. “You were kind to me,” she says.

I give her a dry look. “Sweetheart, you need to raise the bar a little higher than simply being kind ,” I tease her.

I hear a scoff come from McLanahan who I somehow forgot was still here and I turn my head to see what’s got him so bothered, but his expression is filled with a teasing smirk, which makes my jaw tighten.

She tilts her head, her smile growing wider. “Maybe. But you were kind to me and I like you. So, I’m going to keep you.”

“Keep me?” I repeat, blinking down at her.

“Yep,” she confirms, her eyes twinkling. “You’re stuck with me now.”

I glance over at McLanahan, who’s observing us with an amused look. “You hear that, Mark? She’s said she’s going to keep you,” he says with a wink .

I shoot McLanahan a scowl, but the bastard just laughs, clearly enjoying this. I just know he’s going to gossip all about this when Johnson comes in.

“But that’s not even the best part,” Holly says, a wide grin on her slightly red lips, tinted from the cold.

“It’s not?”

“Nope. Guess what happened today?” she asks, her eyes practically glowing with excitement.

I raise an eyebrow. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You’re right about that,” she says with a chuckle. “I met someone.”

“You…” Her words finally dawn on me and my jaw clenches involuntarily, my shoulders tensing. “You met someone?”

“Mhmm,” she says with a nod. “It was the weirdest thing ever. I was juggling a million shopping bags when Olivia called, and then I slipped on ice and dropped everything.” My ears perk up at ‘slipped on ice’ and I do a quick glance down her body, making sure she’s alright.

“And then this guy helped me up,” she says.

“Okay…” I try to keep my voice steady, but the tightening in my chest is hard to ignore. The fuck is this, anyway? I need an Advil or something.

“And then he asked for my number and said he’d love to take me out,” Holly continues with a smile on her face.

“Just like that,” I say, my voice edged with something I don’t want to acknowledge.

“Just like that,” she confirms, nodding enthusiastically .

My hand reaches up as I stroke my beard. “And you’re going to go,” I say, though I don’t know why. Of course she is. This is what she’s been looking for. This is the whole reason she’s in my life in the first place, and now that she’s managed to get a date all on her own, she doesn’t need me. She never did. But I somehow let myself believe that I was finally good for something, finally needed in someone’s life. But after this, there’s no reason for us to communicate anymore.

“Of course,” she says.

McLanahan laughs, shaking his head, but I barely register it. My attention is solely on Holly, and the way her eyes light up as she talks about this guy.

“Right,” I mutter, more to myself than to anyone else. I don’t even try to mask the gruffness in my voice.

Holly’s smile fades slightly as she picks up on my expression. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her brows knitting together.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders as I clear my throat. “So, what’s this guy’s name?”

“Ryan,” Holly says, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. “He was kind and tall and very handsome,” she says, eyes locking on mine. “And he had a beard. Actually, he kind of looked like you. But in a formal, businessman way.”

I blink. “You think I’m handsome?” I ask. Don’t know why. It wouldn’t change anything whether she thought I was handsome or not. I don’t need to know. Actually, I don’t want to know. But before I can open my mouth to tell her just that, she answers .

“Of course I think you’re handsome,” she says, her eyes softening as my chest does the fluttering thing again. Jesus. What the hell is that?

She lets out a content sigh. “I have a very good feeling about this date.”

And the gnawing in my stomach is back.

“When is this date, anyway?” I ask her, ripping my eyes away from her as I grab a rag and pick up an already clean glass, giving it an unnecessary polish.

“I don’t know yet,” she says, chewing on her bottom lip. “He gave me his number and told me to text him, so I guess we’ll see.”

I lift my head to look at her and press my lips together, nodding slowly. “That’s… great, Bambi. I’m really happy for you.”

Well, what do you know? Mclanahan was right. Turns out I am a big fat liar.

“Will you help me figure out what to wear?” she asks, flashing that sweet grin at me that somehow gets me to do whatever the fuck she wants.

My brows shoot up. “I have absolutely no clue how I could help you with that, Bambi. I’m not exactly a fashion guy.” When she frowns slightly, I grunt, hating that look on her face. “Can’t you ask Funnel Cakes for help?”

She groans, shaking her head. “She’s gone to visit Santa.”

I blink. “In the north pole?”

“Yeah. She went on his sleigh and everything,” she says dryly, rolling her eyes. “Of course not. She went to the mall. ”

My brows dip. “She has a kid?” Don’t remember Holly telling me about that.

“No, not yet,” she says. “But she’s practicing.”

“Practicing…” I repeat slowly.

“Yeah,” Holly replies with a shrug. “She wants to know exactly what to do when the baby arrives.”

“Jesus,” I grumble, shaking my head at how ridiculous that is. “You need to hang out with normal people.”

She chuckles. “That’s why I have you, Mark,” she says, flashing me a smile. “And that’s also why I really need your help.”

Christ. Why am I considering this? I don’t know shit about clothes or what the hell someone wears on a date, given that I haven’t been on one in years. “Can’t you wait for her to come back?”

“There’s no time,” she says with a huff. “I don’t know when he’ll call, and then what if you’re busy and I have no one to help me and—”

“Fine,” I say, wanting to put a stop to her rambling. “I’ll help you, Bambi.”

She pauses, her smile widening. “You will?”

Fuck me. This is a bad idea. Don’t need to be spending more time with her alone when I’m starting to get confusing as fuck feelings running through my body. But I can’t say no. Don’t know what this woman did to me, but I just can’t say no to her.

“Yes,” I say. “Send me your location and I’ll come over.”

She lets out a yelp, bouncing in her seat as she breaks out into a grin. “This is why I like you. ”

“Because I do whatever you want?” I ask her, arching my brow.

She chuckles, a teasing smirk pulling at her lips. “Exactly.” Leaning down, she grabs all of the million shopping bags, balancing them in her arms. “Thank you, Mark,” she says, glancing back at me. “I’m so happy I met you.”

She flashes me one more smile before heading out of the bar, and I keep my eyes on the door long after it closes behind her until Mclanahan’s scoff pulls me out of it.

“You’re fucked, man,” he says, shaking his head.

Can’t even argue with the guy.

I am fucked.