He had expected some kind of eruption. But none occurred. Instead, his entire family was staring at him openmouthed.
“You’re a bad person,” Callie muttered. “He’s helping me out.”
“You make it sound like you’re pregnant,” he said.
“Good God, Jake,” she said, going right at him again. “I told you this was going to embarrass me, and not only are you not trying to not embarrass me, you’re making it worse.”
“How am I making it worse? I’m just saying. I’m helping you out. And it’s true. It’s a trust fund thing. Callie is a saddle bronc rider. At least, she wants to be. Her dad is the rodeo commissioner, and long story short, in order to get her freedom so that she can compete in the event she wants to compete in, she needs to get married for a minute.”
“That is a good story,” Sammy said, looking keen. “You weren’t joking.”
“I said I wasn’t.”
He was grateful for the ribbing of his family, and for the general mayhem around him. Because it took away some of the uneasiness that he felt over the whole situation. The uneasiness that he was feeling because of her.
The dining room had two tables, set up end to end, and all the plates matched, which he thought was kind of weird, but the chairs didn’t. There was a high chair for Ryder and Sammy’s little one, Astrid, and a whole lot more people than they used to have, since everyone was now paired off. And in the case of Pansy and West, there was an extra associated with them because West’s half brother lived with them.
They were going to be very unhappy that Jake was going to have to miss Christmas.
“I’m glad everyone’s here,” Sammy said. “Because before we cut the turkey I have some family business to go over.”
“Who elected you supreme leader?” Logan asked, taking a scoop of sweet potatoes with marshmallows—both varieties were present—and putting them onto his plate.
“If you would like to run the proceedings, Logan, you’re welcome to. But you don’t know what I have to say.”
“Agreed,” Colt said. “I don’t want to hear what Logan has to say.”
Jake shared a grin with his brother.
“Anyway,” Sammy said. “I’m proposing that we celebrate Christmas a week early.”
“What?”
“We got everyone for Thanksgiving, which I’m very grateful for, and it required other families to make various arrangements. But Iris and Griffin want to travel to California for Christmas to spend the holiday with his family, West and Pansy have the Daltons, and so do you, Logan,” she said.
Logan shifted uncomfortably. As far as Jake knew, Logan was still in the process of making peace with his father’s family. He’d spent his whole life disenfranchised from him, but when West, another of Hank Dalton’s secret sons, had married into their family, it had created a bridge between the two worlds that Logan could no longer ignore. As far as Jake was concerned, it wasn’t any of his business what Logan wanted to do one way or the other.
“My family is trash, regrettably,” Sammy said, spreading her hands, “but we understand that many of you have other family to see, and we don’t want to not have a big Christmas celebration, so we’ll make it earlier.”
“Well,” Jake said, feeling deflated, because it solved the entire problem, and all of his objections about going to Eastern Oregon with Cal over Christmas.
And just like that, somehow, he seemed to be facing down two Christmases, and he wasn’t sure how in hell that had happened.
But by then dinner was served, and there was such a fantastic array of every good thing he could’ve hoped for that he quit thinking about Christmases of any kind. He knew well that Callie was used to big noisy families, and his didn’t seem to bother her at all. In fact, she appeared to blend in pretty effortlessly, something that he appreciated. He was glad that his family liked her. Because she was important to him. And that mattered.
After the turkey was demolished, but before Sammy had brought in the pie, Ryder brought out his football, and they started trying to urge people to go outside and play. His cousin was the current football coach at Gold Valley High School, and had always been a major enthusiast. Which Jake thought was sort of unfair, since Colt liked to play his guitar, but only sat in the corner with it and didn’t force his hobbies on others. Though, he had to admit, finding an excuse to crash into his family members was always a good time.
“Before we disperse,” Sammy said, “we have to see who gets the wishbone.”
Sammy was big on all things mystical, and if there wasn’t an inbuilt mysticism to something, then she would create it. And she had begun spinning forks and handing out wishbones fifteen years ago, and there was really nothing anyone could do to stop her.
She gravely set the fork at the center of the table and spun it—whoever the tines faced would become the recipient of the wishbone.
The tines faced Cal.
She looked at him, her eyes round. “What does that mean?”
“You get to pull the wishbone in half with someone. Whoever gets the bigger half—”
“I mean, I know how a wishbone works,” she said, looking grumpy. “I just didn’t know about the spinning forks.”
“That’s because I made it up,” Sammy said proudly.
“Well, who do I... Who do I pull it with?”
“Jake can do it,” Sammy crowed.
“Sure,” Jake said, casting her a sideways glance.
Sammy passed the bone down to him and Cal. He gripped one side, and held it out in front of Callie. “Are you ready?”
Half of her lips lifted into a rueful smile. “Sure.” She stuck her hand out and grabbed the other end, and their eyes met.
She pressed her lips together, and he couldn’t help but...
Dammit.
He didn’t have a wish. All he had was a brief flash of what it might feel like if his mouth touched hers. And then she broke the bone.
And he was left with the big half.
“I guess you win. Doesn’t that mean your wish will come true?” she asked.
His gut went tight. Hell.
“Football,” Ryder said.
Saved by his cousin and his unfailing commitment to tradition.
“Don’t I get to know what you wished?” Cal asked.
“That’s not how it works,” Sammy said gravely. “He can’t tell you what he wished or it won’t come true.”
That was a catch-22 if Jake had ever heard one, but it didn’t much matter, because he was already being ushered outside with a football, and his family. He could only hope that the womenfolk didn’t consume Cal. And that she wasn’t angry that she’d been left behind with the women—maybe she wanted to play football? He didn’t know. He hadn’t asked.