An O'brien Family Christmas. Sherryl Woods
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at Christmas, you know. There are so many decorations. The holly is especially bountiful over there. Windows are lit with candles to welcome neighbors.” Her eyes filled with delight. “There are just so many wonderful traditions I’ve missed. My parents tried to keep some of them alive here, but it’s not the same. I didn’t realize that until I’d gone to live with my grandfather for a year. Summer visits were one thing, but being there for all the seasons, and especially Christmas, was magical.”
“I wish …” Laila began, then cut herself off with a shake of her head.
Nell’s expression brightened. “Wish what, my dear? That you could be there? You should be. We’d love for you to come. You’re very much a part of this family.”
Laila sighed. “Not really.”
“You’re Trace’s sister, aren’t you? And Abby’s sister-in-law? You’ve been in and out of Mick’s house and mine practically since you could walk. In my book, that makes you one of us.”
Laila noticed that she’d made no mention of Laila’s past relationship with Matthew. Even Nell obviously understood it had been little more than a passing infatuation.
“Jess told me I’d be welcome, but I’d feel out of place,” Laila admitted.
“Not because of Matthew, I hope,” Nell said. “No one is holding that against you.”
Laila bristled at her choice of words. “Against me?” she repeated. “I know O’Briens stick together, but why would anyone hold what happened against me?”
“Well, you did dump him, after all,” Nell said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Family loyalty surely puts us on his side, though I know you must have had your reasons. Still, all of us understand that the relationship simply wasn’t meant to be. There are no hard feelings.”
Laila knew she should bite her tongue, but she couldn’t let the comment go unchallenged. “No offense, but Matthew has some responsibility for what happened. He’s not exactly a saint.”
Nell chuckled. “Not exactly,” she said agreeably. “Much as I love him, I would never suggest such a thing.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re heaping all the blame for what happened on me?”
Nell regarded her innocently. “Is that the way it sounded? I didn’t mean for it to. I know as well as anyone how impossible my grandson can be. I’m sure he must have done something perfectly outrageous for a kind, considerate woman like you to drop him the way you did.”
“There was no dropping,” Laila insisted stiffly. “It was a mutual decision.” More or less, anyway. She’d said there was no way they could continue to see each other, and he’d gone along with it. She’d hated that almost as much as she’d hated her father’s disdainful, unyielding attitude and the rift that had created.
Nell looked surprised. “Is that so? Matthew certainly seemed to suggest … Well, never mind. I must have gotten it wrong.”
Laila frowned. “Exactly what did Matthew say?”
“That he was paying the price for your father’s ridiculous stance, that on some level you still want to get back into your father’s good graces and that cutting Matthew out of your life was the first step.” She shrugged. “I can understand how he might have come to that conclusion. Your father’s not an easy man, now, is he?”
“No, he’s not, but the whole idea that I broke up with Matthew to appease my father is insane,” Laila said indignantly. “I’m not even speaking to my father, much less trying to win him over. He has nothing to do with this. I’m done trying to jump through hoops to please him.”
“I hope that’s true,” Nell said gently. “You’re a smart, thoughtful woman, Laila. You should be deciding things for yourself, especially when it comes to choosing the man you’ll love.”
“And that’s exactly what I did,” Laila said heatedly. “I decided Matthew was all wrong for me. He agreed.”
“If you say so,” Nell murmured. She seemed to be fighting a smile.
Laila couldn’t believe that Matthew was going around town psychoanalyzing her. Wasn’t that Will Lincoln’s domain? Jess’s husband was the shrink in the family.
“I have to go,” Laila said abruptly. She stood up, pulled a twenty from her purse and left it on the table. Though she felt like storming out, good manners had her bending down to kiss Nell’s cheek. None of this was her fault, and she was only expressing whatever nonsense Matthew had fed her. “If I don’t see you before the trip, I really do hope you have a wonderful time.”
“Happy Christmas to you, too, dear,” Nell responded.
Happy? Laila couldn’t imagine anything less likely, but at the moment she wasn’t concerned with holiday spirit. No, what mattered to her right now was straightening out the infuriating and apparently very chatty Matthew O’Brien before he managed to turn the whole town against her.
The last person Matthew expected to find on his doorstep on a frigid December night was Laila. She was shivering, either from the cold or indignation. Judging from the sparks flashing in her eyes when he opened the door, it was probably the latter.
“How dare you!” she said as she walked right past him, took off her coat and tossed it in the general direction of a chair. It missed, but she left it where it had landed.
When she whirled to face him, her eyes were blazing. He hadn’t seen that much heat in them since the last time they’d made love. In full fury like this, she reminded him of some kind of mythical goddess—statuesque, strong and wildly desirable. He jammed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t reach for her.
“Something I can do for you?” he inquired mildly. “You look upset.”
“I just had a fascinating conversation with your grandmother,” she announced. “It seems she, and probably everyone else in town by now, is under the impression that I dumped you, that poor Matthew did nothing to deserve such a thing.”
“You did dump me,” he replied reasonably.
“We agreed,” she insisted, her agitated pacing starting to make him a little dizzy.
He shook his head. “Sorry to contradict you, sweetheart, but you said it was over, tossed me out of your apartment and told me never to darken your door again.”
She frowned, probably annoyed by his depiction of what had happened.
“It was hardly that dramatic,” she said.
“Pretty much,” he insisted, amused despite himself that she’d somehow turned herself into the victim here.
“But you agreed we were over,” she countered.
“No, I said it was pointless to try to argue with you when you were being irrational. Then you slammed the door in my face.”
“Well, of course I did,” she retorted. “Who wants to be accused of being irrational by some condescending man? And just so you know, I am never irrational. I thought the whole thing through and came to a sensible conclusion.”
“Not from my perspective, but you certainly did sound convinced about what you were saying. It’s little wonder I took you at your word and stayed away.”
She looked taken aback by his response, as if she’d never considered that, by avoiding her, he was only doing as she asked. “You never took me at my word before.”
At the surprising hint of wistfulness in her voice, he regarded her with confusion. “You wanted me to fight you, to keep coming back even though you’d told me rather plainly not to?”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the sofa, her expression a little lost. The hint of vulnerability made his gut twist. “I sound totally ridiculous, don’t I?” she said. “I’m not a woman who doesn’t know