Chapter 4

“But this,” he said, holding up the mistletoe and staring, “this seems almost poetic. Judicial, even.” He was smiling as he walked across the kitchen. He was smiling even wider as he used his toe to depress the mechanism for the garbage bin and open the lid. He dropped the mistletoe and watched it slip and settle over a day’s worth of trash and coffee grinds.

“How’s that for a nice romantic gesture?” Scott said. He lifted his toes and the lid fell shut with a clunk.

* * * *

Two quickly swallowed scotches and twenty minutes of some bad porn that had left him cringing more than anything else had Scott opting out of trying to stay awake any longer. Besides, he’d argued with himself when his mind had balked over the idea of going to bed at eight p.m., he’d said he was going to spend the next four days catching up on rest and relaxation. There was nothing wrong with getting it started early; he needed it.