Chapter 13
brENT
We gather the presents onto a sleigh. Yes, a sleigh. Using the sleigh, we carry everything downstairs to the room with the Christmas tree.
While I should know at this point to be expecting the grandest rooms, I’m still taken by surprise when we walk into whatever room this is supposed to be, with a twelve-foot tree, decorated for a magazine.
The enormous fireplace is large enough to walk into. The massive ceiling curves overhead with a huge chandelier in the middle. The stained-glass windows are taller than the doors, curved to a point, and showcase medieval moments.
Perhaps most impressive is the sweeping stack of presents all around the tree in the middle of the room, spreading out like roots or moss, slowly covering the floor in every direction.
I have no words. Everywhere I look is something stunning to stare at, whether it’s the Christmas décor or the room beneath it.
As we’re unloading the gifts, someone joins us with armloads of their own wrapped gifts.
Rafe introduces me, and while I try to pay attention, I’m distracted by literally everything in the room.
I’m so distracted that while Rafe talks to his cousin or whatever, I wander away to stare at the painting on the wall.
The castle in the painting looks almost just like the one we’re in, but we’re not in the vineyard, so I can’t imagine it’s the same castle. Then again, Rafe said this castle was moved here stone by stone from England. Perhaps this is where it had been when it was built. That’s possible, isn’t it?
There’s an actual moat around it. I wonder if they still own land in England. Do they rent it out, or has it been taken over by people there over the years?
Rafe stands beside me, and I’m about to ask when his hand on my hip makes me catch my breath. He shifts my body to face his, and his eyes flicker up over our heads. I look up and find that I’m standing beneath the mistletoe.
My heart nearly lodges itself in my throat. There’s a chance that I look at him with fear. My god, he can’t really kiss me. That will be my undoing.
His smile curls up a little more, probably amused by how I’m looking at him. I can’t catch my breath. It becomes more difficult to breathe when he leans in and presses his lips to mine.
I expect nothing but a peck. Something small, light, and not all that convincing as a real kiss.
That’s not what happens. His lips mold to mine like he’s kissed me a hundred times. Though it’s just our mouths together, I can feel it throughout my body. It lingers. Time stretches.
He pulls his mouth from mine and stares into my eyes. I can’t read his expression. He’s… confused? Surprised? Unsure.
His grip on my hip tightens, and his other hand cups the side of my face.
Before I can form a solid, coherent thought, Rafe’s mouth is on mine again, but this time, his kiss is consuming.
He licks my lips apart, and his tongue delves inside.
His hand on the side of my face guides my head how he wants me, angling my mouth to his.
His hand on my hip pulls me against him and then slides around my back to press my body to his.
There’s a chance I may pass out. Whether from the shock, my inability to breathe, or the most amazing kiss of my entire life, I’m not sure. But my knees are weak. There’s no mistaking that. My heart races. My pulse pounds in my ears. My entire body hums with electricity.
If I were expecting my fantasies of kissing Rafe to outshine the real thing, I’m wildly wrong. This is a moment I will never forget.
“Ew,” a little voice says. “Stop doing that. There are kids in the house.”
Rafe smiles against my mouth, his tongue pulling out, but he doesn’t move away, nor let me go. “Then stop looking,” he answers. “I’m allowed to kiss my boyfriend if I want to.”
“You can do that in private,” she retorts.
“I absolutely will kiss him in private. Thanks for the permission. But I’m also going to kiss him by the fire. Under the mistletoe. In the snow—”
“It’s not snowing, and you’re inside,” she argues.
I huff with amusement.
Rafe sighs, finally pulling his lips from mine. “Fine. You win this time. But next time you walk in on us kissing, just remember that we were here first and you can come back later.”
Marietta’s eyes are narrowed on us, and she looks exactly like her mother.
Rafe takes my hand and leads me to the door.
“Are you going to go kiss somewhere else now?” she asks, clear disgust in her voice.
“Maybe. I guess if you don’t want to see it, then you don’t have to follow.”
“It’s Christmas, Uncle Rafe. You shouldn’t do gross things when it’s Christmas,” she demands as she follows us out of the tree room.
“You do gross things all the time,” Rafe argues.
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t,” she insists.
They continue to argue, but I can only concentrate on the way my heart continues to race. I can’t catch my breath. My lips tingle. Everything inside me feels like it hums with new energy.
Mistletoe, I try to convince myself. Fake. Fake. Fake.
My brain may have the memo, but the rest of my body is not on board. Even as the day progresses, I can’t seem to take a full breath. Rafe keeps me close. It feels closer than yesterday, though I’m not sure anything changed.
Something feels different. The space between us feels like it’s crackling with energy.
His hand doesn’t leave mine often, but when it does, his arm is around me instead. His hand remains on my thigh under the table during dinner, as if he can’t keep his hands off me. He needs to be in contact with me at all times.
Everything about the day feels like it’s a blur, and yet, it’s also crawling along.
Right up until the sun sets and everyone seems to get up as a single unit and head for the doors.
I think maybe there’s a silent fire alarm until we’re all out at the cars, and I hear something about Christmas lights.
“I’m surprised you don’t have lights up here,” I note as I look at the castle home.
“We don’t,” he admits, “though it’s something we debate every year, usually once we get back from touring the lights around town.”
“No,” Enfield says, and Rafe turns us to look in their direction as so many others have. “Not a chance. Go ride with someone else.”
“Enfield,” Ryan says. “It’s time to get over this—”
“Oh, I’m over it. That doesn’t mean I have any intention of forgiving you for your bullshit, nor do you have a place in our lives, so go away and just stop,” Enfield says.
I glance at Rafe. He’s watching with much the same expression as the rest of his family. My attention moves back to Enfield.
“You obviously want a relationship with the family, and everyone practices the same contracts—”
“I challenge you to find someone else who was tricked into marrying a man when they’re straight,” Enfield deadpans.
“You didn’t read the contract after we kept asking,” Betty says.
“We’re not doing this again,” Enfield says dismissively.
“I don’t care what kind of bullshit you want to spew.
The bottom line is you could have simply stated his gender at any time, and you chose not to.
You knew I wasn’t going to be happy about it, and you chose to trick me anyway.
This is the last time we talk about this.
Stay away from me. No one else here tricked me.
You did. Not them. You. No one else is as nasty and devious. ”
Xavi looks in our direction and waves us over somewhat subtly. Rafe pulls me toward them.
“Rafe and Brent are riding with us,” Xavi announces, smiling as he opens the back of their SUV. “No more discussion needed.”
Rafe has me climb in, and he follows. Xavi gets into the front passenger seat with Enfield behind the wheel. His eyes meet ours in the rearview mirror. “Thanks.”
“I see nothing has changed,” Rafe says.
Enfield huffs and starts the engine. “No. It’s exhausting.”
Once the vehicles that are all lined up begin driving down the road, Xavi twists in his seat to look at me. “Rafe told you about this?”
“About as much as you just did outside, yes.”
He nods and turns back around. Enfield takes his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it.
“I’m a lot like Rafe but on steroids. I didn’t want a contract marriage, and I didn’t want to get married at all.”
“Just so it’s clear, I don’t really care about the contract marriage,” Rafe says. “I just don’t want one now. When I’m ready for marriage, then I'll accept it.”
“The difference is that your mother will be fine if you choose your own partner,” Xavi says.
“I’m guessing she’s taken a lesson on what not to do by watching what her brother did,” Rafe says, smirking.
Xavi grins, nodding.
“I admit I went a little overboard trying to get out of it.”
“Did you really have an affair with a duke in Europe?” I ask.
Enfield laughs. “No, though I’m guessing that rumor is what made my parents decide a male partner was acceptable.”
“You really didn’t read the contract?” I ask, unable to keep my questions contained.
He laughs again, shaking his head. “To be honest, I’d been fighting the contracts since I was a teenager, and a decade later, I was fucking tired.
If it would get them off my back, then fine.
I had no intention of being a good husband.
I’d fulfill the contract, but that was it.
Right or wrong, my plan was to make sure my house was as cold and miserable as I was. ”
“You succeeded,” Rafe says.
“Mm,” Enfield hums. “Not intentionally, though. I was so damn floored to find that Xavi was a man that my entire reaction to him had nothing to do with anything other than my shock. I hadn’t meant to make him feel awful.
I was so pissed at my parents that I wasn’t thinking about him or… anything else.”
“But it worked out?”
Enfield and Xavi catch each other’s eyes and share a smile. “It did.”
“So they got what they wanted,” I note.
“Not exactly. In my rage toward them, which had gotten incredibly loud and ugly, they broke a lot of the contract, which my lawyer had a field day tearing apart. And there was nothing they could do about it. However, I’d gotten my head out of my ass toward Xavi, and strangely enough, they did pick the perfect partner for me.
Not to brag, but I have the best husband anyone could ask for. ”
Xavi smirks, throwing us a smile over his shoulder.
“Then you no longer have a contract?” I ask.
“We do. We wrote up our own and forced our parents to sign it, and if they refused, then we were out. We’d leave and never return. At least now, they get to watch us from the outside. And I get my money,” Enfield says.
“Spoiled rich boy,” Rafe says, laughing.
Enfield releases a heavy sigh. “The contract benefits us greatly, and it removes all the bullshit like kids and other familial obligations that are archaic.”
“I’m convinced that they were so appalled by the new contract because they hate that they had to sign the old one,” Xavi says.
“They’re non-negotiable?”
“Eh. To a point. The kid thing isn’t. We’re supposed to have our first kid by the third year of our marriage.” Xavi twists to look at us. “As people who never wanted kids in our contract, you can imagine how much we hated that line, and yet, we were bound by it or we’d each lose one of our trusts.”
“No offense, but being so reliant on money sounds toxic.”
All three men laugh at me.
“It is,” Rafe and Xavi agree.
“Besides, my slutty husband has three kids already. And three different baby mamas,” Xavi says, eyeing Enfield.
Enfield shrugs. “I love my babies but yeah, I had them for the wrong reasons.”
I look at Rafe. “Do you have the same contract?”
“I do, but as already pointed out, my parents have learned from Enfield’s parents’ mistakes.
If I don’t want kids, then I’m positive it’ll be taken out of the contract without my losing any of the trusts.
They’ll just be worked into other parts of the contract instead.
My family already has four kids in the next generation.
Our family line carries on. Me and Ryanne have much more freedom because of it,” Rafe says.
“Which is how my parents should have responded. Eloise and Quincy both had kids already. They were already married with contracts. There was no need for me to fall into line.”
“Here we are,” Xavi says, and I turn my attention out the window.
I don’t know where here is, but our line of cars is turning into a maze of lights. While it’s difficult to see exactly what we’re driving into, I can already make out different storybook scenes blown up larger than life.
Rafe slides across the seat and crowds in at my back.
I try not to let my breath catch at the way he wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.
His fingers lace with mine, and… this feels real.
I can’t even muster the fake, fake, fake chant in my head as he holds me like this while we get lost in the enchanted maze of lighted Christmas scenes.
We don’t talk for the rest of the ride. Once we’re finished with the maze, we drive around town and look at all the house lights before going back home. It’s not late, but we set out the milk and cookies with the kids and head up to bed.
My skin feels flushed. My heartbeat is still not normalized. I feel like there’s something sitting on my chest making it difficult to breathe normally.
We share the bathroom as we go through our nighttime routines and then climb into bed together. Silence surrounds us, our fingers loosely hooked under the covers. Minutes later, Rafe rolls onto his side and pulls me to face him.
It’s dark. I can only see by the glow of the digital clock.
“I’d really like to kiss you again, Brent,” he says quietly.
The tone of his voice whispers through my body, sending gooseflesh to cover my skin. I shiver all over and nod helplessly.
Rafe pulls me to him, bringing my body flush. His fingers gently brush my hair from my forehead, thumb tracing my jaw, my chin, my lips.
Then, his mouth is on mine. Unlike the first time he kissed me, there’s no simple press of our lips together. He moves straight into consuming me with his tongue sweeping through my mouth, taking control.
I lose myself in Rafe Holt, and quite frankly, I don’t ever want to wake up from this moment.