Page 112 of Go Back to December

“Do we believe him?” Annabel asks.

I lift a shoulder. “Possibly.”

“Your girlfriend is nicer than I am. You’re lucky it’s New Year’s and I’m in a forgiving mood.”

The precious front door is carved out of wood, and it's so small, Baz ducks his head to walk through. Annabel flicks a switch, and muted lamps spring to life to illuminate a cozy room paneled with logs.

“This is a cabin,” I whisper.

There’s a beautiful fragrance of old and new wood. It’s warmer than I would have imagined, and I ask Annabel how it’s heated.

She gestures to the stone fireplace. “We do a lot with insulation, and there’s secondary electric heating if it gets too cold.”

Annabel points out a modern but utilitarian bathroom, which has a water system that uses recycled rainwater. Then she walks us into the dome of the igloo. A large bed takes up most of the space.

“This is where you lie back to view the stars,” I say.

The glass surrounding the bed has a rod tracing it, and curtains.

“For privacy,” Annabel says, smirking at Baz.

The corner of his mouth kicks up, but he makes no sarcastic comments. The igloo is too beautiful for anyone to criticize.

“Can we light the fire?” I ask.

“Inside or out?”

“There’s more?”

She gestures to another small door.

The small yard behind the igloo has a high brick wall lined with flower beds. A firepit stacked with logs perches at the center of an outdoor seating area.

It is a lux Money Honey version of the Jungle House garden. If ever there was a time to confess everything about my past with Baz, the universe is certainly throwing up the right setting for it. On a platter.

I can feel him behind me, heat radiating from his golden coat. If I face him now, he’ll coax me into revealing all my secrets, so I tip my head back to search the dark night for stars.

A match scrapes against a friction strip. Baz adds it, along with scraps of paper, to the firepit.

“Did Annabel say you could light that?”

He shrugs as he strikes another match, tosses it onto the logs. Suddenly, the iced garden is ablaze.

“This place, Baz.” I sigh. “Your family.”

“I know.” He grasps one fist in the other, twisting his gloves. “They want this to work out between us. Almost as much as I do.”

“There’s so much we haven’t talked about. And I know this is going to sound petty after everything tonight.” I swallow. “But the one thing I need to know before this goes any further is what happened with you and Alicia.”

He circles the fire and steps closer. His shoulder hovers above mine. When he extends his hands, he reaches so close he could graze the fire.

“The court should hear this,” he says to the flames. “It’s the absolute worst exhibit of Bad Bastard behavior.”

“Well, then we must review the evidence.”

When I reach for him, his fingers clamp down on mine. They’re warm and strong.

“The night Allie died, I told you I fell asleep,” he says softly. “I didn’t tell you it was in Alicia’s bed.”