Chapter 19
Killian
The dazzling lights of the Christmas Eve party at the Van der Horn mansion are probably so bright the astronauts can spot them from space.
Drinks—both alcoholic and soft—stream freely, and the table of pre-dinner snacks overflows with all kinds of delicacies surrounding an ice sculpture depicting Santa’s sled
Damen looks so good in the slim burgundy suit I wish I could keep him to myself tonight, but that’s not gonna happen, so I try not to get too obviously erect as I imagine sucking him off behind the antique Japanese screen in the corner.
We missed the arrival of yet more guests earlier, but now Damen is introducing me to them all.
I’m not surprised my presence at his side is no longer a big shock.
After all, this place has internet access, and the news about Damen’s new husband has spread like wildfire.
Some of the women want me to shop with them, the men offer to teach me golfing, but the most important new guest is still a bit confused about my role.
“He’s in a band?” Damen’s paternal grandmother Iris asks, narrowing her hooded eyes.
She’s small, with slim wrists and long fingers, but her blonde hair is coiffed into perfect waves, and her makeup—flawless. In the red dress with sequins all around the collar, she looks ready to deliver a speech after receiving an award for lifetime achievements. Too bad she can barely hear us.
“No, grandmom, I said he’s my husband,” Damen says a bit louder and reaches to her ear. She winces as he presses a switch on her hearing aid and repeats himself.
Painted-on eyebrows rise in confusion as her blue gaze swipes up and down my body. “So he’s a boy? Very short.”
For once, I swallow my pride. She’s in her nineties and allowed to say anything she wants about my height. “It’s nice to meet you, and Merry Christmas!” I say, maybe a bit too loudly, because now she recoils.
I’m too drunk on love to worry though. This is my life. Free snacks, booze on tap, extravagant jewelry, and maybe after Christmas I’ll even learn how to ski, because that’s what I do now. And most importantly, I’ve got Damen’s arm over my shoulders. I’ve never felt more appreciated.
“You can still have babies, don’t worry,” Grandma Iris tells Damen good-naturedly before one of the middle-aged people tempts her with a red velvet hot chocolate.
He glances at me with a silly grin. “Heard that, Killian? We can still have babies.”
“Do you think she knows about surrogates, or is she just confused?”
He puts his strong arm around me, and I know that whatever comes at me in this beautiful den of vipers big and small, he will have my back.
“You never know with her. The old lady has worse and better days. It’s a shame Grandma Gladys couldn’t make the trip, but it’s physically a lot for her, so we might be visiting my other grandparents and older relatives next year. ”
He’s already planning to show me off. I’m as giddy as the champagne sparkling in my hand. “So no other seniors for me to confuse tonight?” I grin and get to my toes for a quick kiss.
“No,” he says and refills my champagne flute. “But you’re free to confuse everyone else.”
Maybe it’s my look that confused poor Grandma Iris, because I’ve pulled out all the stops tonight.
I'm in a black velvet blazer with no shirt underneath, my ink as decoration and the perfect canvas for the gold padlock choker. I told him I’ll die in it.
Tonight, I’m just to die for in it. I'm wearing a second necklace, though, this one long and thin, it disappears into my jacket above my navel.
Damen wanted me to be my extravagant self, so why the fuck not? I make sure I hold the glass in my left hand to dazzle everyone with my engagement ring.
High-waisted pants hug my hips, and underneath? That’s for Damen to find out later. I’m also wearing polished boots with an inch of heel because yeah, I do actually care about my height. Hair slicked back completes the look along with dark eyeshadow with some sparkle (it’s Christmas after all).
I’m pleased to note that unlike me, Titus looks positively awful, stuck wearing the fugly blazer with a pixelated print of pigs in Christmas garb.
They even have little bells on their heads that jingle.
He moves around the room, following his wife, who in turn clearly doesn’t want to risk ending up in a photo with him.
He would have cheated and stopped wearing the thing by now if it wasn’t for the fact that his loss in the knife-throwing contest was very much public, and it’s better to give one’s wife the ick than be seen as dishonorable by other men.
Straights. I’ll never understand them.
At least Samantha is having the time of her life with a few other people as they prepare for a game of charades. She seems much less bothered by the failed matchmaking than Uncle Roger.
The party is in full swing, and when I spot Aspen sneaking punch into a flask, I roll my eyes. I guess it’s not like he’ll be driving anywhere tonight. I’m more alarmed when I see him pass that flask to an even younger cousin of Damen’s.
I’m twenty-one. Am I old enough to wag my finger and tell them it’s wrong?
Nah.
And to be honest? Aspen is a wild card. I’m not fooled by his Christmas getup of a golden tracksuit with red sequin stripes on the sides. I don’t want to be on his bad side.
A whisper comes my way from one of the tables, and when I look that way, I spot Damen’s mom locking eyes with her husband. “This isn’t the right water. I told you we need alkaline!”
“There’s nothing better than fresh spring water,” Karl argues, and when she scowls, looking around, he lowers his tone. “I’m not overpaying for some bullshit again.”
“Is business going so badly that you can’t afford the good water?” she shoots back, but I’m not there to watch the argument unfold, because Damen pulls me away and whispers.
“See what happens when they’re forced to spend a whole week under one roof? My childhood was paradise.”
“At least you had the private chefs on call whenever Mom and Dad forgot to feed you.” I wink at him.
Damen stills. He’s watching me as if he’s ready to whisk me away and cover me with seven blankets. “Kill… I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s fine, really, I can joke about it now.”
“I shouldn’t complain. For better or worse, my family is a functioning entity, and they accept my choices,” he tells me and slides his hand into mine. “But I already told you, they’re your family too.”
“Yes. I feel so pampered. Your mom even got me a set of crystals in the morning in case I was anxious about meeting even more people tonight. That was really thoughtful. Made me feel accepted. Maybe this was my goal all along? To weave myself into your family?” I grin at him.
He takes a deep breath and puts his hand against his chest, as if he’s just been shot. “I’m wounded! And all this time I thought it was me you wanted!”
The tall silhouette of Damen’s father appears behind him, and my eyes must have communicated that something is going on, because my man turns to face his parent.
I’m still rather awkward about the impression I made that first evening, so I’m glad when it turns out the two of them need to exchange a few words in private.
Damen gives me that will-you-be-fine? look, and I nod with a smile before his father takes him away. I don’t know what the cutting glance Karl Van der Horn sends my way is about, but whatever.
I approach the table for some nibbles, back straight when I spot a few of the younger teens glancing my way. Instead of bristling, I imagine them saying ‘wow, I want tattoos like that’, because yeah, I feel so fucking cool.
In the room next door, Alexandra is taking an antique crossbow off the wall and shows her kids some detail at the top of the weapon, but her husband, Victor, is drifting my way, his handsome face lit up by a smile.
“Are you overwhelmed yet? I know I was the first Christmas I spent here,” he says, reaching for a canapé from one of the trays arranged around the ice sculpture.
He’s one of the few people here who doesn’t treat me as ‘one of the girls’, so I perk up.
“It’s a lot, but also… pretty magical.” I turn to the giant Christmas tree decorated with colorful baubles and fake snow.
“Would you mind if I ask…” I lower my voice.
“You’re the spouse of a Van der Horn. Alexandra’s been talking about how excited she is to take part, but do you hunt?
Do you not want to? Are we even allowed to join? ”
Victor shudders but offers me a smile and leans against the wall, taking in the room full of people.
“Some of the husbands do, but fortunately there’s no pressure after the first time.
Honestly, I much rather read or tinker with my memoir than run around in the snow.
But those Van der Horns, they’re so competitive, and the gene did not skip my Alexandra. ”
I cock my head at him. Maybe I misunderstood him. “Are you saying there is pressure that I join in the first year? I don’t really think I’m cut out for it.”
Victor adjusts his nerdy glasses and chuckles. “Neither am I, but here I am. It’s just one of those things you have to go through, and then it’s out of mind. Good luck tomorrow, by the way. I’ll be happily minding the kids.”
“Go through what? Aspen told me I’ll be hunted, but that’s apparently a bunch of BS.”
Victor hums. “I… already said too much. Sorry, it’s the punch. No, you will not be hunted, I assure you. It will be fine.”
Okay. I’m not getting more out of him. I need to find Damen, because my tipsy mind is on high alert. “Um, thanks, I guess,” I say, but he’s already off with a whole plate of cookies.
As I’m left on my own, Damen’s mother’s voice reaches me again as she complains to Samantha. The poor girl seems unable to walk away and join the charades. “I told him acrylic plates would have been better than paper. He’s so cheap.”
I don’t want to be roped into this conversation, so I make sure to rush toward the corridor where I saw Damen disappear with his father.
I’m worried someone might try to grab my attention, so I turn into dark matter and disappear before anyone can notice.
It’s much safer in the hallway, and while a server passes me with a tray full of champagne flutes, all we do is exchange a nod, and then I’m on my way past the other side of the smoking room and closer to where Damen told me his father’s office is located.
So far away from the festive atmosphere of the party, I can hear them talk, and were it not for the last few words I hear, I would have just walked into the office with a wide smile.
But how can I do that when Damen’s father calls me a ‘boy with no basic table manners’? And I thought I’d been doing so well lately…
My heart sinks, and while eavesdropping is even more impolite, I need to know what else they have to say about me.
“Your sister apparently found the two of you… coupling in the stables? Kids could have been there.”
“As if I’ve never walked in on you and an escort,” Damen says bluntly.
“That was different—”
“Was it? Besides, the stable incident is entirely on me. Blown out of proportion too, since we were just kissing.”
A half-truth, since we were about to do much more than that, but no point in dwelling on such details.
Karl grunts, and I can imagine him shaking his head.
“It’s irrelevant anyway. Fine, I get it.
You’re gay. You made your point, but he is inappropriate in every way.
I’m not telling you to create upheaval, keep him until New Year’s, but then get rid of him.
You can take part in the hunt, since I’m guessing that’s what this whole ‘elopement’ was about.
I need to know tonight if you agree to such a deal.
No games, Damen. After tomorrow, there will be no turning back. ”
I stare at the wall in front of me, and the questions I have about my role in the hunt suddenly don’t seem so important. Sure, I didn’t come here to be liked by Damen’s father. I fully expected to be the bane of his existence.
What I dread is Damen’s answer, because I’m about to find out the truth, not sweet words whispered to me in bed.