Epilogue #2
The guys’ dad couldn’t make it, since he’s actually on a cruise this Christmas with a nice woman he met a few months ago. She seems really nice, and the guys like her a lot. I’m glad to see that he’s found someone else after losing his wife four years ago. He deserves that.
Isabelle and Andrew are already here, and they both give us stilted, slightly stiff greetings as we’re brought into the living room. Isabelle looks as put together as always, not a hair out of place, and Andrew is a bit overdressed for the occasion, in my opinion, having opted for a full suit.
I don’t speak to either of them much these days. There’s not much I have to say to them, honestly.
“Now that we’re all here, we can dig in,” my mother announces, heading to the kitchen and emerging a few minutes later with drinks and appetizers.
She arrays the food on the little tables near the couch and chairs, and we all make conversation about the weather, the holidays, and the cruise Mr. Sullivan is taking as we eat finger food.
“Maybe next year, you two can host Christmas Eve at your new house,” my other tells Andrew and Isabelle at one point. I don’t miss that she didn’t suggest the same possibility to me and my men, but in this case, I don’t even really care. There’s no way any of us want to do that.
But instead of preening under the attention like I expected her to, Isabelle looks a bit sullen, a sour look passing over her face.
“Maybe,” she says with a tight smile. “If it’s presentable for hosting anything by then.”
Andrew huffs a breath, rolling his eyes a little. “The place is fine, Isabelle.”
“Oh, it’s fine?” She shoots him a withering look. “So I guess all of those things I pointed out to you last week don’t matter, right? I guess when you keep telling me we’ll hire a decorator ‘later,’ you don’t really mean it.”
“Decorators are expensive, and we already redid the bathroom and kitchen and—”
“You know what?” She holds up a manicured hand sharply. “You’re right. It’s fine.”
That seems to put an end to the conversation, but the awkwardness lingers long after her words die out. The living room goes silent for a moment, and then my mom clears her throat, visibly trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, home ownership can be… a challenge,” she says, a bit too brightly. “But I’m sure you two lovebirds will work it out.”
Andrew nods, but he’s not smiling. Isabelle doesn’t even bother to act like Mom’s words have smoothed everything over, staring down at her drink as if there’s something hidden at the bottom of it.
I share a look with all three of my men, my eyebrows lifting upward just a little. Sawyer shakes his head, a wry smirk tugging at his lips, although it doesn’t quite break free.
It takes a while for the conversation to get back on track after that little interlude, but eventually the chit-chat starts flowing more easily.
When Isabelle gets up to grab another drink from the drink tray Mom set out, I notice Andrew walk over and try to put his arm around her.
She subtly elbows him away, taking half a step in the other direction, and I wince.
Clearly, there’s a lot going on there. I’m not sure what their first year of marriage has been like, but it’s safe to say they’re way past the honeymoon stage.
It doesn’t make me happy to see that they both seem a bit miserable in their marriage, but the petty part of me has to admit that there’s a certain karmic satisfaction in seeing that Isabelle’s ‘perfect’ life isn’t quite as perfect on the inside as she clearly wants it to look on the outside.
I know my mother has several more rounds of appetizers planned, but once we’ve been at my parents’ house for a little over an hour, I glance over at Rhett, subtly tugging on my left ear lobe. That’s the secret signal that I’m about ready to get out of here.
He must’ve been watching for it—waiting for it—because he practically springs to his feet as soon as my fingers touch my ear, clapping his hands together once.
“Well, we’d probably better head out,” he declares. “We’ve got plans to head to the cabin tonight, and we want to give ourselves plenty of time in case there’s any snow on the roads.”
Lennox and Sawyer stand up too, and the four of us start saying our goodbyes.
My mother looks a bit offended, as if we all just insulted her cooking, spilled our drinks all over the carpet, and then flipped over all the furniture instead of just leaving a bit early, like I told her we would weeks ago.
“I thought maybe you’d at least stay for dessert,” she mutters under her breath as she and my father walk us to the door.
I wince a little. I’ve become a lot more immune to her guilt trips than I used to be, but she still sometimes manages to get me with that tone of voice.
But before I can open my mouth to apologize or explain again that we need to give ourselves plenty of time to get to the cabin, my father surprises me by speaking first.
“Let it go, Patricia,” he says firmly. “She told you when you invited her that they wouldn’t be able to stay the whole time.”
Mom blinks. “Yes, but—”
But instead of backing down like I’ve seen him do dozens of times with my mother, avoiding conflict at all costs, he shakes his head.
“But nothing. She came and spent time with us, which frankly, we should be grateful for. Now she wants to spend time with her boyfriends. She has a family of her own now, and this is their first Christmas together.”
My mother gapes at him for a minute, obviously pretty stunned that he stood up to her so forcefully. To be honest, I am too. But I like seeing this new side of my dad. I hope he lets it out more often.
Rather than arguing more, my mother finally nods, looking a bit chagrined. She opens the door for me and the guys, stepping forward to give each of us little hugs. My dad hugs us too, and when he gets to me, I wrap my arms around him tight and give a little squeeze.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He nods against my hair. “Have a good Christmas, sweetheart. Love you.”
With that, we head out.
As we climb into the SUV, Sawyer shoots me a grin from the back seat. “You know what, Peaches? Your dad’s alright.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “He is.”
Lennox snorts, sliding into the back next to Sawyer. “Did you see Isabelle and Andrew? Jesus fucking Christ, must not be much fun to live in that house.”
Rhett shrugs, starting the engine. “Yeah, well, Karma’s a bitch.”
His thoughts are an echo of mine, and I reach over to take his free hand as he spins the wheel with the other, backing us out of the driveway.
He raises my our joined fingers, kissing my knuckles, and warmth seems to travel from the place where his lips touch my skin all the way to my heart, settling there.
I hope Isabelle and Andrew figure things out, I really do. But for tonight, I don’t want my sister or my ex to take up another second of my thoughts. I’d rather think about my three incredible men, and how we’re about to celebrate our first Christmas Eve together.
It only takes us an hour to get to the cabin, and the lights are on inside when we arrive. The place is both rustic and incredibly modern in some respects, which means Rhett has remote access to the lights.
It looks warm and inviting, and we grab our bags and head inside quickly. The place is already decorated, with a tree in the corner and lights and garlands strung all along the walls.
“This is the perfect place to celebrate Christmas,” I say, turning slowly to take in the full picture of it.
We were all up here a few weeks ago and decorated it together, but I’d forgotten how good it looks. I’ve always loved the dark wood and simple décor of the cabin, and the festive trimmings just make it seem even more cozy. But now that it’s all decked out for the holidays, it feels even better.
“Well, we know how much you love Christmas,” Lennox says. “We had to make sure it would be perfect.”
I let out a happy little sigh before shucking off my coat and shoes. “I really do. And it is.”
We end up in the kitchen while Lennox makes dinner, since we’re all still hungry after just some appetizers. Sawyer pours wine, and Rhett puts Christmas music on low, just adding to the ambiance. The kitchen fills with the smell of roasting meat and spices, and my stomach growls.
Soon enough, Lennox serves up dinner, beautifully roasted chicken and potatoes with green beans and warm rolls, and we all gather around the table to eat.
“Oh my god,” I groan, biting into my first bite of chicken. It tastes like lemon and garlic and savory goodness. “This is so good. This is just what I needed after today.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he says. His eyes sparkle with something that can only be called anticipation. “Make sure you eat your fill. You’re going to need your strength later.”
Now the anticipation is simmering in my stomach, and I can only imagine what the three of them have planned for tonight.
Still, we don’t rush through dinner. It’s too nice to just linger, talking and catching up. All day, I’ve been looking forward to getting my men alone, and there’s the undercurrent of tension and heat that none of us can ignore.
Once the plates are cleared and stacked in the kitchen, Rhett finishes the last of his wine and then lifts me into his arms.
We all go upstairs to the massive bed in the room we all share when we’re here. My eyes widen as I take in the sight. There are candles lit all around, and ribbons and sex toys laid out on the bed and nightstands.
My stomach flutters to look at it all.
“You’re our first Christmas present,” Sawyer says grinning. “And we plan to wrap you up before taking you apart.”
There’s heat and promise in his tone, and I swallow hard.
But of course, all I could ask for for Christmas is them, and as they move to start undressing me, I let myself relax, giving over to the arousal starting to simmer in my belly.