Snowed In (Fitzpatrick Christmas, #2)

by Catherine Walsh

“That’s one good thing about bad days,” I say, as her face falls. “They always end.”

“Do you like it?” “I like the money.” “Ah. Work to live, is it?” “That’s it.” “So, what do you do to live?”

It was the moment she went from being someone I barely thought about to one of the most interesting people in my life. And then she disappeared.

And my therapist would not be happy if I regressed. He said I made great progress, and it’s incredibly important to me that I’m his favorite patient.”

“You are the passenger princess, which means you can do whatever you like.”

“She’s a vegetarian.” I swear you’d hear a pin drop. Everyone’s attention goes to me, except for Colleen, whose eyes drop to the ham like she doesn’t know whether she should fling it out the window or not. “Vegetarian,” Christian repeats when no one says anything. “Not a serial killer.”

“This is your home too,” he interrupts. “Sit down, Meg.”

“Yes, they are. They know it, and you know it, and if someone says something and I’m not there, you call me. If someone side-eyes you, you call me. You call me, and no matter where you are or what time it is, I’ll pick up and I’ll come running. That’s the whole point of this.”

“If I start crying, just remember that’s manly now,” Christian says, following me blindly. “Toxic masculinity is dead.”

“I don’t like you upset,” he continues, and doesn’t that just make my heart melt a little? “I’m not.” “You were.” “And now I’m with you, so I’m not,” I say, the truth tumbling out before I know what to do with it.

Something changes in that moment, and all of a sudden I wish I’d never thought of this plan. I wish I could go back to her apartment that first night and sit on her couch and kiss her like she should always be kissed. Like how she should be right now. And there’d be no pretending about it.