“You really think that might happen?” she asked worriedly.
He paused before replying, taking a long sip of his wine. “Eventually the family is going to start pushing me a little harder about why I’m not bringing any girlfriends home to meet them. Not, of course, that I’ve introduced every woman I’ve ever dated to them. But about a month after I broke up with Devon the hints started getting tossed around, then the questions asked. I keep telling them that I’m not dating anyone seriously, that I want to take a break from getting involved with someone, but those sort of excuses are only going to satisfy them for a little while longer.”
Scarlett glared at him as she snagged another slice of pizza. “Well, don’t start thinking that you’re going to bring some female home to meet the family just to shut them up. At least not if you want to keep seeing me, that is.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You know I’d never do that,” he assured her softly. “And I don’t want to see anyone else. At the same time, though, I keep thinking of how to make sure this doesn’t all backfire on us. I’ve thought about telling your father about us, enlisting his help. After all, it’s Neil’s fault that things are so screwed up.”
“I don’t disagree with that logic. However, if you’re thinking that he’s voluntarily going to fess up about having a secret daughter stashed away someplace and jeopardize his cushy lifestyle in the process - well, guess again. My father’s a selfish prick, Jackson. You ought to know that by now.”
“Obviously. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t owe you, babe. And I’m not talking about the money, or the fact that Hannah grew up as the little princess while you were forced into the role of the pauper. I’m talking about how unfair it is that you can’t meet your family, especially since I know for a fact your grandmother would adore you. She’s the nicest lady, Scarlett, and your grandfather might be a little on the gruff side but he’d love you, too.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Stop it, okay? We literally just talked about this, Jackson. It only makes it worse for me to hear about the way it could be but never will. So once again this is me changing the subject. What do you think of my Christmas decorations so far? I made sure to leave room for the tree you promised to help me pick out tomorrow.”
He’d been too tired after the long day he had had at work, coupled with the flight delay, and then the cold, rainy conditions upon his arrival in Oakland to take much notice of his surroundings until now. His priorities upon entering Scarlett’s apartment had been to give her a hug and kiss, drink a glass or two of wine, and stuff as much pizza as he could down his throat without looking like a total glutton. Plus, her place was always so tidy, and almost spartanly decorated, that he rarely gave the place more of a quick lookover.
Now that she’d brought it to his attention, he noticed the addition of brightly painted wooden reindeer, an assortment of holiday candles, a tall glass vase filled with glittery ornaments and a string of lights, a whimsical stuffed bear in an ugly Christmas sweater and matching hat, and even two stockings hanging from the fireplace mantle.
“I hope you don’t mind that I picked one out for you,” she offered almost timidly.
Jackson hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her in close for a kiss. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassured her, smiling. “And your place looks great, very festive.”
She beamed. “There’s a few more things in the kitchen, and then of course the tree will go in that corner over there. Oh, and I strung some lights along the balcony railing. You don’t think I overdid it, do you?”
“No,” he replied firmly, knowing how much it meant to Scarlett to finally have a place of her own to decorate for the holidays. If she’d loaded every single surface in the place with stuff he wouldn’t have said a word because she deserved to experience those sort of simple pleasures. And from the glowing look on her face he could tell how much she was enjoying all of this.
It had surprised him at first to observe how the little things could often make the defensive, hard-edged Scarlett soften up and smile, how much enjoyment she got out of things most people - himself included - would take for granted. He knew it was because she’d gone without so many things in her life, had had to fight for her very survival at times, and that happiness had been a rare, fleeting emotion for her. For the first time in her life she was well and truly in charge of her destiny, felt completely secure, and could make her own decisions - including how to decorate her apartment for the holiday season.
“You’ll need a wreath for the front door, too,” he announced. “And probably more lights and ornaments for the tree. We can pick that stuff up after we buy the tree. Hopefully it won’t be pouring rain in the morning.”
She shook her head. “I checked the forecast earlier today. This storm is supposed to pass through during the night and be out of here before sunrise. It’ll be kind of cold tomorrow but no rain.”
“Good thing I packed some warmer stuff. I’ll probably leave most of it here, if that’s okay.”
Scarlett shrugged. “You don’t have to ask permission, Jackson. And, yeah, I’m guessing you don’t have much need for winter gear down in Phoenix. How cold does it get there in the wintertime?”
“During the day it’s usually in the high sixties, sometimes mid seventies. It can get colder overnight but we don’t get much rain. Not like that deluge outside right now.”
She stood up, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Why don’t you unpack your stuff then while I clean up the dishes? And before you ask, no, I don’t mind.”
He gave her ass a squeeze before wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tight. “I missed you,” he whispered. “All I could think about during that damned Thanksgiving dinner - all seven dragged out courses - was how much I’d rather be with you. Either having dinner at Ananda and Isaiah’s or maybe just the two of us up in some cabin in Lake Tahoe.”
Scarlett ruffled his hair playfully. “Probably a good thing it wasn’t the latter,” she teased. “I mean, my cooking skills are gradually - very gradually - starting to improve, but I’m not sure they’re up to roasting a turkey just yet. And the pumpkin pie would have been store bought.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he declared. “Hell, we could have had turkey hot dogs for dinner and I would have enjoyed it more than I did the ordeal at my parents.”
“At least you got to spend time with Hannah,” she pointed out. “I’m sure that meant a lot to her.”
“It did. To me, too, of course. But I still couldn’t help wishing that things - ”
She placed her index finger over his lips. “No wishing,” she declared. “Especially for stuff that we both know is never going to happen. And if we’re going to buy a Christmas tree tomorrow and more holiday tchotchkes for this place, then I don’t want to get all maudlin and depressed tonight. Okay?”
He nodded, and then took himself off to her bedroom to unpack and hang up the additional articles of clothing he’d brought with him. The window in her bedroom rattled rather alarmingly as the wind howled outside, and he shivered in response while hanging up a couple of sweaters, a weatherproof jacket with a hood, and a pair of nylon track pants. He’d also packed some hiking boots, a wool cap, and some insulated gloves, things that he had previously only needed if he was going on a skiing trip. Not, of course, that it was anywhere near as cold here in Berkeley, but given the nasty weather outside he was glad to have the protective gear.