New Year’s Day: A Lancaster Holiday Novella (Lancaster Prep)
New Year’s Day: Chapter 3

“CHAMPAGNE, SON? REALLY?” I stare at the top of my oldest son’s head, which is currently bent downward. Rowan can’t face me and I understand why.

He’s sipping on champagne snagged for him by his fifteen-year-old shitty cousin.

Okay, August isn’t shitty but he’s so like his father it’s not even funny. Which means he’s…

Damn it, he’s a little shitty.

“August said it would be fun,” Row says to the floor. “But I thought it tasted awful.”

Good, is what I want to say, but I restrain myself.

“Do you believe everything that August tells you?” When it comes to my children, I try my best to have patience. Sometimes, I get angry. I am definitely the bad guy in the parental situation and Wren is almost always the good guy. Which I have no problem with, though it’s hard for me to be tough on my daughter.

Willow just has to look at me with those big beautiful eyes of hers, her lips forming into a pout and I’m a goner. I’d probably let her get away with murder and take the fall for it. She’s got me wrapped tight around her finger.

But Rowan? I rarely have to discipline him. He’s a pretty good kid. Both of my boys are.

This is all August’s fault.

“I won’t ever do it again.” Row lifts his head, his glassy gaze meeting mine and I realize he’s this close to bursting into tears. And we can’t have that. Not tonight, when we’re celebrating New Year’s Eve. “I’m sorry.”

“Come here,” I say, my voice rough as I pull him into my arms and give him a quick hug. He springs away from me fast, glancing around. Probably doesn’t want to get caught being comforted by his dad in front of August. “Don’t do it again.”

“Do what?” Row frowns.

“Drink alcohol. You’re ten years old for Christ’s sake.” I shake my head, rubbing the side of my jaw with my hand. “At least wait until you’re in high school.”

Row frowns. “Did you drink alcohol when you were in high school?”

This being a parent thing is tricky business.

“Sometimes,” I hedge.

“Oh.” Row nods, watching the rest of his cousins at the buffet table laden with food. His eyes are full of longing, and knowing my child, he’s starving.

He always is.

“Go get something to eat,” I tell him and he doesn’t even look back.

No, Row dashes off, standing with the rest of his cousins who are all younger than him save for his sister, Iris and August. Rowan just wants them to accept him but he’s considered younger and therefore, they’re dismissive of him all the time.

It’s frustrating for him. That’s why he’s drinking champagne when he’s ten. He’s just trying to keep up.

Shaking my head, I’m about to march over to Whit and let him know my real feelings about his son when I feel a gentle hand land on my arm, keeping me from moving.

“Did you punish him?”

I glance to my right to replace my wife standing there, her delicate brows drawn together, her lips forming into the slightest frown. She looks upset. It’s not every day you discover that your ten-year-old is trying to sample champagne.

At least it wasn’t tequila.

“I didn’t punish him.” I shrug, wondering if I should’ve. “I just told him it was completely out of line and he’s too young. He’s only ten for the love of God. Oh, and I blame August for convincing him to try it.”

“August is very…pushy sometimes,” Wren murmurs. “And all Row wants is to earn August’s approval. He’ll do anything to gain it.”

That was me with my brothers. I idolized them and they were complete and utter dicks toward me most of the time. Being the baby of the family sucks. “I’ve been in his position before.”

“And you turned out just fine.” She’s smiling as she steps closer, her arms going around me so she can clutch me close. “Look at you.”

“My brothers were dicks,” I admit, studying her beautiful face. All these years later and she’s still just as gorgeous as when I first saw her. Maybe even more so.

“Sometimes they still are.” Her smile grows and then she’s laughing. “Oh, they’re the worst. But I miss them this year.”

“I miss them as well.” They’re celebrating with their own families, not wanting to make the trek out here, which worked out for them considering the snowstorm. “Don’t forget that Whit can be pretty bad too.”

“He’s terrible,” she agrees with a grin. “But I love him. And he loves his family more than anything else, which counters any of his bad qualities.”

“I love my family too.” I kiss her because I can’t resist my Birdy. “We’re going to have to keep Willow under lock and key when she becomes a teenager.”

My gaze goes to our only daughter, who is currently laughing over something Iris said to her. Those two adore each other and I’m glad Willow has a cousin to always hang out with when we have these family get togethers. So does our youngest son, Beau. But poor Rowan?

He’s the odd man out.

“Willow,” I suddenly call. My daughter turns her head in our direction. “Come here for a second.”

“What are you up to?” Wren asks but I just flash her a quick smile.

Willow whispers something to Iris before she makes her way over to us, nibbling on a bacon wrapped shrimp. “Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to ask you a question,” I start but Willow cuts me off.

“No, I didn’t try any of the champagne.” She stands a little taller, her nose tilted in the air. “I wouldn’t dare.”

I send a quick look to Wren, wondering if she’s seeing what I’m seeing.

She is truly her mother’s daughter.

“I didn’t think you did,” I reassure her, noting how her shoulders relax a little at my words. “I was hoping you could include your brother tonight.”

“Include him how?”

“Well, you’re always with Iris. Why don’t you let Rowan hang out with the two of you. He’d love it.”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Willow,” Wren chastises. “Don’t be like that.”

“He’ll ruin everything,” Willow whines. “Iris and I like it better when it’s just the two of us.”

“But you exclude everyone else,” Wren explains. “And your brother is a little down in the dumps tonight.”

“Why, because he got caught drinking champagne and he’s only ten?” Willow rolls her eyes.

“Yes, that’s part of it. But he’s always trying to keep up with August and he’s too young.” Wren reaches out and rests her hand on Willow’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Spend a little time with your brother tonight. Make him feel like he’s a part of something.”

“Why doesn’t he hang out with Beau and Vaughn and the rest of the them?”

“They’re younger than him,” I start but Willow is already shaking her head.

“And he’s younger than me,” she oh so kindly reminds us.

“Willow, just—be a good sister and spend some time with Row,” I tell her, tamping down the faint irritation that’s rising. “He just wants to be included.”

“Fine,” Willow says with an exasperated breath.

I pull her into me before she can stomp off, giving her a hug. “Don’t forget to come give me a kiss at midnight.”

Our daughter gazes up at me, her lips curved in the faintest smile. “You know all of my kisses are for you, Daddy. And Mama.”

I pat the side of her head before she turns and runs away from us. “Rowan! Come over here.”

Row scurries over to where the girls are standing, Iris seemingly confused by the new addition to their usual twosome.

Keeping my gaze on Willow, I murmur, “She’s growing up so fast, Wren. One day all of her kisses won’t be for me anymore.”

“You’ll always have mine,” my wife whispers to me.

I slip my arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to my side. “We still owe each other at least a million.”

Wren laughs. “The amount grows every time we talk about it.”

I grin. I can’t help it. I’m greedy.”

“It’s a Lancaster trait,” she says.

I dip my head, kissing her lips. Always tempted by my wife’s sexy mouth.

“You’re a good father.” She pats my chest.

“Even when I harass and force my children to be nice to each other?”

“Oh, especially then.”

“You’re a good mom.” I kiss her again. “A great one.”

Wren slips out from underneath my arm, only to link her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s go drink some champagne and get drunk.”

“In front of the children?” I raise my brows, already leading her toward the bar.

“Definitely. We don’t know how long we’re going to be snowed in with this bunch. We’re probably going to need all the liquor we can get,” Wren says, her eyes twinkling.

Damn, I didn’t even think of that, but that’s my wife for you.

Always so wise.