She kept her face averted so that he wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying. “No, I’m okay. I’m just going to finish up here and go to bed.”
“You still have that headache? Can I get you a painkiller?”
She tried to staunch more tears as she rinsed the last of the suds down the sink. “No, I’ll be fine. Go ahead and enjoy your family.”
He came over and caught her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “What’s going on? That asshole isn’t bothering you again, is he?”
She shook her head. She was afraid her voice would crack if she tried to speak.
“You’d tell me?”
She nodded and he kissed the top of her head before pulling her into his arms. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he murmured. “You’ll see.”
She closed her eyes as she rested her cheek against his chest and tried to absorb the warmth of his body, to somehow use his strength to bolster hers.
“Should we make some hot apple cider, too?”
Emery broke away from Dallas as Aiyana entered the kitchen and quickly returned to her work. She was fairly certain Aiyana had seen the embrace, but Dallas’s mother pretended she hadn’t. “Can you join us?” she asked Emery.
“Not tonight,” Emery said. “I’m going to turn in early.”
“Is everything okay?”
She managed a smile. “It’s great,” she said, but the only thing that was great in her life right now was Dallas.
And she had a feeling even that wouldn’t turn out to be a good thing in the end.
“You know I was hoping that you and Emery would make a connection,” Aiyana said.
Dallas arched an eyebrow at his mother. Emery and his brothers were in bed. Bentley had school in the morning; Liam and Emery had work. He was sitting in the living room with his mother in front of the Christmas tree, its lights sparkling in an almost hypnotic fashion. It was past the time she usually went to bed, since she had work in the morning, too, so he’d guessed she had a reason for staying up late. Apparently, this was it—a word in private. “You’re always trying to play matchmaker.”
“Because I want what’s best for you,” she pointed out.
“And that’s Emery?”
“That’s having the love of a good woman and, eventually, a family. Only...”
He rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”
“I admit that what I saw in the kitchen earlier makes me a little nervous.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about, Mom.”
“Emery’s in a difficult situation, Dallas. I don’t want her to get hurt—again.”
“We’re just friends. I’m not going to hurt her.”
“I know you would never intend to...”
“But I might not be able to resist?” he said sarcastically.
“I’m not saying that. I’m merely pointing out that she might not understand how much you struggle with commitment.”
“I don’t struggle with commitment.”
It was her turn to lift an eyebrow.
“I struggle in general,” he said. “So I would never put myself forward as someone who would be good for Emery. She needs a different kind of man, someone who’s willing to settle down and work a regular job. Someone who isn’t as restless as I am.”
“You don’t have to be perfect to be perfect for someone. Lord knows I’m not perfect. And neither is Cal. But we’re better together.”
“Not everyone is going to find what you two have.”
“No, but you don’t have to sabotage your own happiness.”
“I’m not. I’m coping the best way I can, and I’m being honest—with you and everyone else. I’m not going to give up climbing.”
“You don’t have to give it up. Can’t you just...do a little less of it?”
“A little less? That wouldn’t be enough to make anyone I’m with happy, and you know it.”
“You can figure out how to get what it gives you while being there for someone else. You’re here for me right now, aren’t you?”
“It’s winter. Besides, you don’t require nearly as much as a spouse would require, and you know it.”
She said nothing.
“Not everyone has to walk the same path,” he said.
She frowned. “Then I hope you’ll stay away from Emery.”
He knew as long as they were living in the same house he probably wouldn’t be able to do that, so he didn’t make any promises. “Did you know my father is out of prison?” he asked. He’d been going to wait until after the wedding to mention this development but couldn’t resist. She was the one person who would truly understand what this would mean to him.
She looked as though she didn’t want to answer, but he could tell by her face that she wasn’t surprised.
“You did know.”
“Yes.”
Robert must’ve included the fact that his parole had been granted in her letter, too. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”
“Not until after Christmas.”
“Because...”
“I didn’t see any reason to ruin the holidays.”
He supposed he couldn’t blame her. She had her wedding coming up, too.
Dallas stared at the blinking lights on the tree, remembering another Christmas tree—the one his father had pulled down in a drunken rage, breaking most of the ornaments, only two months before he killed most of his family. And that memory, like falling dominoes, took Dallas’s mind back to the terrible day when he was hiding under his sister’s bed. Shaking. Terrified. Trying not to breathe for fear his father would hear him. He could still remember the cupboards slamming as his father searched for him. If their neighbor hadn’t reported the gunshots and then come over to see what was going on, his father would’ve found him eventually. And then... “I can’t believe a man can kill his wife and young daughter, and try to kill his son, and ever be allowed to go on with his life.”
“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” she agreed. “But the penal system is rife with inconsistencies. Someone can be put away on a drug charge and spend as long as
