Not to mention Grady and her were in this ridiculous situation so her Mom and Dad could work on their relationship.

“Mom. No. Just no. We are going and you are coming with us—without your sketch pad.”

“Suzanne.” Simone’s voice had that stubborn edge Suzanne knew all too well.

“Mom,” she repeated. “You came to Credence to rekindle your relationship with Dad. You know, to avoid a divorce. Remember?”

“Oh…” Simone’s voice sounded suddenly small, and Suzanne actually heard her swallow. “Yes. God, you’re right. I’m so sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

Yes, Suzanne almost snapped. But she hadn’t expected to cut through to her mother so easily, and the fact that Simone appeared to finally have some insight into her behavior tempered Suzanne’s response. “Yes,” she said gently.

“Right, of course. Yes, let’s go to Annie’s. Your father will love it. And so will I.”

“Good.” Suzanne nodded.

She may not be able to get a positive relationship outcome for herself in all this mess, but she sure as hell was gunning for her parents.

…

The next three days passed in a blur of activity. The sun was out, and the skies were blue, and even though it was still cold, the mercury managed to rise above freezing and helped melt the two feet of snow the blizzard had dumped all over Credence. Suzanne kept her parents busy and together, with her mother’s full cooperation. They even agreed to Christmas karaoke.

No one could get them up onstage, but the fact that they bore it in good spirits was welcome.

Grady was absent, busy with the cleanup until well after dark. She waited up for him each night, but it was like their interlude had never happened and he’d reverted to the grunting man of few words she’d first known.

She’d expected awkwardness and avoidance—that was what Grady did—but she hadn’t expected to be shut out. It hurt, Suzanne couldn’t deny that, and she wanted nothing more than to call him on his bullshit. But…he was beat. She could see that. And there’d been some stock loss, which he’d obviously taken hard. The last thing he needed was a nagging fake girlfriend whining about not getting any crumbs of his time.

So she held her tongue.

But it didn’t stop her stupid romantic heart from hoping he might come to her bed each night or her ears straining for his footfalls outside her door. Which was…pathetic. How could she even think about opening her legs for a guy who could barely spare her a word?

Where was her pride, damn it?