Page 34 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

He let out a long breath, and for the first time since Carter had known him, Bill looked tired.“My family hates me.”

“They hate how you acted.There is a difference.They’re here now.Don’t waste your chance to make things right.It’s Christmas, for crying out loud.Go… I don’t know… build a gingerbread house with them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.Tiny is already making gingerbread; I’ll tell her to whip up a bunch for everyone to decorate.We can even have the staff judge their favorites.”

“What the hell do we look like?The Cleavers?”

“No.You look like the Wetherbys, a family who has had a black cloud over Christmas for the last eight years.It’s time to pop it.Time to be honest with them and move on.”

“And what about you?”Bill asked, leaning back in his chair.

A frown pulled Carter’s lips downward.“What about me?”

“You should take your own advice.”

“And what advice is that?”

“Time to be honest.Tell Ashley what really happened.”

His shoulders stiffened.“There’s nothing to tell.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday.”Bill folded his hands on his stomach.“I have eyes and ears all over this estate.I’m not as naive as you think I am.”

Carter scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.“Sir, with all due respect, Ashley and I—”

“Are idiots.”

“What?No.It’s just… that was a long time ago.”

Bill gave a dismissive wave.“Eight days or eight years, the heart doesn’t care.”

Carter looked toward the window, snow drifting past the glass.“We’re from two very different worlds.”

“You both have roots here that to me is the same world.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Listen to me.I was a nobody from Long Island.I didn’t make a name for myself until after I met my Lily.She loved both men.The failure and the success.All money does is make birthdays and holidays a little more extravagant.Other than that, there’s not much difference.”

“It’s easy to say when you have money.”

“About that—” Bill’s phone rang, and he sighed before answering.

Bill grabbed the paperwork he had been looking at, and Carter took his leave.At the door, he turned back and said, “I’ll get Tiny started with the gingerbread right away, sir.”

Carter didn’t wait for a response.

The sound of a pen striking the doorframe behind him told him exactly what Bill thought of the idea.A smile stretched across his face as he headed to the kitchen.Whether or not Bill wanted to, he was going to build a damn gingerbread house with his family.

The closer he got to the kitchen, the stronger the scent of gingerbread became.His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten more than the muffin he had confiscated from the breakfast table this morning.The warm scent carried him back to Christmases when Ashley had spent more time in the kitchen than anywhere else, stealing bits of dough, dusting flour across his nose, and laughing every time Ms.Porter threatened to ban them both.

The memory stayed with him as he entered the kitchen.Luca, impeccably dressed as usual, sat with Clint and Wendell at the table, sipping coffee and playing a game of Texas Hold'em.Clint looked as weathered as an old saddle, his cowboy hat tossed onto the table beside him, while Wendell studied his cards with the same quiet patience he did when Carter discussed the grounds with him.

Carter was smart enough not to join.Those three might as well have been card sharks.He couldn’t count the number of times he’d lost to them over the years.He finally stopped trying.

“Want to get in on this, Carter?”Luca asked, throwing two cards on the table.