Home for the Holidays. Sarah Mayberry

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Home for the Holidays - Sarah  Mayberry

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It was a good ass, too. Firm-looking, round. Quintessentially male.

      Hannah registered what she was doing and swiveled on her heel. Who cared if he had a nice ass? It was attached to the rest of him, and that was arrogant and pigheaded and not-so-nice.

      Still, she’d more than put him in his place tonight. He might have won this morning’s skirmish, but tonight’s battle was definitely hers.

      Grinning, she headed into the house. Score: one all.

      She was still smiling when she pushed open the connecting door from the garage and entered the kitchen. She could hear voices and guessed her mother was already in front of the TV, watching her soaps. Hannah rounded the corner, ready to regale her with the story of her two encounters with Joe Lawson.

      “Hey, Mom, guess what just—” The rest of the words died in her throat when she saw who was with her mother. “What are you doing here?”

      Her sister stood abruptly and smoothed a hand down her skirt.

      “I was just going,” Kelly said. She was very pale and her hands were shaking.

      Hannah felt sick. She hadn’t seen Kelly in months, not since the last confrontation when her sister had begged Hannah to forgive her, to understand, and Hannah had told her she couldn’t.

      Kelly started gathering her bag and coat.

      “Hold on a minute,” their mother said. She put a hand on Kelly’s arm. Hannah looked at it, then at her mother. “Kelly is visiting me, that’s what she’s doing here. She’s my daughter, too, Hannah, and I need to see her and know how she’s doing, just as I need to know how you’re doing.”

      Bile burned at the back of Hannah’s throat. How long had this been going on? How long had her mother been comforting her sister behind her back? Didn’t Kelly have enough attention and love and adoration in her life?

      Without a word, Hannah turned and started for her bedroom.

      “Hannah.” It was Kelly, her voice high with tension.

      Hannah kept walking. She had nothing to say to her sister. Nothing that hadn’t been said before, anyway.

      “I came to talk about the apartment. We both feel really bad about you taking a loss on the sale. Please let us make it up to you,” her sister called after her.

      Hannah shoved her door closed, the echo of the slam loud in the small room. Arms folded over her chest, hands gripping her elbows, she crossed to the window and glared out at the backyard.

      She couldn’t believe her mother had been offering comfort to the enemy, and she couldn’t believe her sister was still trying to foot the bill for the sale of the apartment she’d once owned with Lucas. It had been Hannah’s place, hers and Lucas’s. Their home, not her sister’s. Kelly had had nothing to do with picking the decor, choosing the furniture, deciding which part of town they wanted to live in. Hannah was damned if she was going to let her sister reimburse her for her losses because she and Lucas had been forced to sell in a bad market. Kelly had stolen Lucas, stolen the dreams Hannah had had for her future with the man she loved. But Kelly couldn’t take this one small thing away from Hannah: if it killed her, Hannah would pay off her share of the remainder of the mortgage, no matter what. Just to prove to herself and the world that it had happened, that it had mattered. That for a whole year and a half, Lucas Hall had been hers and not her sister’s.

      There was a tap on the door. Hannah tightened her grip on her elbows. If her sister dared to walk through the door …

      “Hannah, it’s me,” her mother called.

      “I don’t want to talk.”

      “Fine, but you can still listen.”

      The door opened and her mother entered. Her expression was determined. “I think you should seriously think about your sister’s offer.”

      Hannah made a disgusted noise. “Surprise, surprise.”

      Her mother held up a hand. “Listen for a minute, will you? You’ve been planning this trip around Australia for months. Years, really, since you put it off when you first met Lucas. If you take up your sister’s offer, you can go now. I know that’s what you want, what will make you happy. Why not do it?”

      “Because I won’t let her buy her way out of her guilt,” Hannah said. Her sister had always made more money than Hannah in her high-end IT job. Kelly’s yearly bonuses alone were sometimes triple Hannah’s salary as a mechanic. Even with the global financial downturn Kelly was still hauling it in hand over fist.

      “I don’t think that’s why she wants to do it. She wants you to be happy,” her mother said.

      “Then she shouldn’t have stolen my fiancé.”

      “Would you really want to be married to a man who was in love with another woman? Do you think your sister should have stepped aside and let that happen, Hannah?”

      “It should never have even been an issue. She’s my sister and he was my fiancé. The thought should never even have entered her head.”

      “Or his head. But it did. Sometimes you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with someone, sweetheart.”

      “Bullshit! I don’t want to hear this, Mom. And I’m not taking her money. It was my apartment. Mine and Lucas’s. I’ll pay for my fair share of what’s left of the mortgage. She can’t take that away from me.”

      Her mother shook her head. “My God, you always were a stubborn one.”

      “Yeah, that’s me—stupid, loyal, stubborn old Hannah.” Her voice broke on the last word and her mother stepped forward, hand extended. Hannah jerked away from her. She was angry with her mother, unfairly or not. Kelly had hurt her, betrayed her utterly. It felt like a further betrayal to learn that her mother had been seeing her sister all these months behind Hannah’s back.

      “I need to work on my bike,” Hannah said.

       CHAPTER THREE

      HANNAH DIDN’T STOP WALKING until she was safely in the garage, breathing in the smell of damp concrete and engine grease. She sank onto her upright tool chest, pressing her hands to her face. For a moment she was so angry and sad she could barely breathe.

       I’m so sick of this. I’m so sick of feeling this way.

      The problem was, she didn’t know what to do with her anger. She’d thought that not seeing Kelly or Lucas for all these months would have made a difference, taken some of the heat out of her feelings. But she’d only had to look into her sister’s perfectly made-up face to feel it all surging back. That, and seeing the pity in her mother’s eyes …

      Of course, her mother wasn’t the only one who felt sorry for poor, jilted Hannah. It had practically become a national pastime once the wedding had been canceled. Their family, all of her and Lucas’s friends, the neighbors, her customers—they’d all offered their condolences and shaken their heads. After all, it wasn’t every day that a tomboyish older sister was cast aside for her younger, more glamorous, more beautiful sister. It was a classic tale of woe and everyone could relate. And more

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