Chapter 6 #2
At this, Mom looked up from across the counter, raised a brow, then ducked her head and went right back to her perfect flooding. I huffed at both of them and crossed my arms over my chest in a pout.
I’m so mature.
“I don’t see why they have to be perfect anyhow.”
“They’re never going to be perfect,” Riven teased without looking up, “as long as you’re involved.”
“Mom,” I whined.
On the other side of the counter, my mother sighed happily without looking up from her work. “It’s so good to have both of you home again.”
Maybe my lips twitched a little.
Don’t get me wrong; I did like being back on Eastshore.
The last few weeks had reminded me how much I like this place, even though it’s so different from the big city I’d been navigating for years.
Stuff was slower here, but I felt like I could really connect with the people and community, if that makes sense, rather than rush rush rushing through each day.
There’d been a few times since returning that I seriously considered selling my place out in California and buying one of the small homes for sale along the south side of the island.
I could be happy here, with my mom and sister and her new husband.
Maybe there weren’t a lot of weddings here on the island, but maybe I could change that.
And then there was Sylvik, and the way he made me feel…a very compelling reason to stick around.
But today, trying to focus long enough to decorate my sister’s delicious Christmas cut-out cookies, I was third-guessing those thoughts. Because there was a reason to return to L.A., and because Sylvik had kissed me, and I’d kissed him back.
Nope, that had been more than kissing. You were all hot and bothered in the space of like two seconds, and if you’d held out for another thirty, he probably would have made you come just by rubbing against you.
God, he’d felt good.
How many times since the solstice had I regretted stopping him? Even if that hadn’t been his real intentions, even if he had lost control…I’d wanted that. Wanted him. So, so badly.
So here I was, grumpy and horny and angry at the world for something I could have fixed.
Riven sighed as she leaned across Mom’s counter to scoop up a small icing bag filled with black royal icing, then reached for the scissors to snip off the end. “You’ve been distracted for days. What happened at the Solstice Circle?”
I started guiltily. “What?”
Without looking up, Mom hummed. Too eagerly, as if she’d been waiting for an opening. “You disappeared with that nice young Sylvik fellow.”
Oh God.
Since my sister was holding out the icing bag and smirking, I yanked it out of her hands, grateful for something to focus on. “What’s this for?”
“Since you suck at methodical and careful icing application—”
“I hate you,” I interrupted without rancor.
Riven continued with a deeper smirk. “—you’re in charge of decorating the snowmen. Make each of them unique.”
Oh. Well, I could do that, no problem.
“No penises this year,” Mom called out.
Damn.
Still, as I exhaled carefully and bent over the tray of flooded snowmen cookies, I felt myself calming a bit.
This was a good way to use the creative side of my brain, and I could feel my antsiness easing as I blobbed on two eyes, then an open mouth, to make this guy looked shocked.
Buttons were easy, and I could make little stick hands look like he was holding a present…
“Sooo…” Riven had gone back to her task, but she wasn’t letting me drop the topic. “What’s been going on, Brooke?”
I was not going to tell her—or Mom—about that kiss, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I got another job offer. In L.A.”
Silence, and I peeked up after I finished that snowman to see my mother and sister exchanging a glance. Mom settled a careful look on me. “A new job? In California?”
Riven pounced. “Are you going back?”
“What’s the job?” Mom asked.
I winced and reached for another cookie. This one would have eyelashes and boobs. “It’s not a new thing. It’s…Ethan wants me back.”
There was a clatter from where my sister was working, but I didn’t look up, pretending fascination with the shape of the snowwoman’s thick lips. Lips that felt like mine did after Sylvik pinned me against that tree…
“He wants you back?” Riven blurted, higher pitched than normal. “Like…dating?”
I managed to shrug as I went to work on the modest little neckline of the sweater my snowwoman was apparently wearing. “To work. He has a contract from a client who wants one of my visions, and I think—”
“Yes!” Mom’s shout startled me to blob on a button too thick, and I looked up in time to see her pumping her fist. “What?” she asked unapologetically. “I knew that jerk would realize how brilliant you were and come crawling back, begging you to save his sorry ass.”
…What?
Gaping, I exchanged a glance with my sister, who looked equally shocked by Mom’s harsh words. When I glanced back, our mother shrugged.
“He’s not a good partner, honey.”
“What did he offer?” Riven asked.
“Half the contract—”
“Oh, how generous.” I could cut her sarcasm with a spoon. “I mean, did he at least apologize? Was there crawling and begging?”
Snorting, I shook my head, bending back over my cookie’s snowboobs. “He’s emailed me twice, and yesterday I got a text from him.”
And each time, I remembered the way Sylvik had told me he believed I could run my own event planning company, if I returned to the west coast. The idea was scary and exhilarating and flattering but…I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave Eastshore.
My hands were full of the piping bag as I carefully finished this cookie, and thus I couldn’t stop my sister from sliding my phone from my back pocket. She hummed as she opened the text chain.
“You didn’t respond. He texted you about an hour ago, too.”
“Of course I didn’t respond. I don’t know what to tell him.”
Mom’s fist pounded the table. “Tell him to go to hell! What’s the most recent text say?”
I could see Riven’s surprise at our mother’s vehemence, and she glanced at me as if asking permission. Or if I even wanted to hear it. I shrugged and reached for another cookie.
“Brooke-bear, I know you’re seeing these.
You owe me an answer at least. My offer is a good one, and you know it.
You BELONG out here in L.A., not some dumpy little East Coast town.
You have talent, and it’s not fair to deprive all these brides of it.
” My sister snorted derisively this time. “He’s good.”
“He’s manipulative,” Mom growled.
“Yeah, but he’s also right.” I felt Riven move to stand beside me, even though I pretended interest in the cigar I was piping into this snowman’s mouth. “You are talented, Brooke,” she said quietly. “And you love wedding planning.”
She was right. “I do,” I whispered. “I love any event planning. I love the excitement and the pride of seeing it come together.”
“You can do that on Eastshore,” Mom pointed out.
It was nothing I hadn’t been thinking in the last weeks, but now I sighed and straightened and met my sister’s eyes.
“I don’t know. I worked hard in L.A., I built a name and a reputation.
That was my dream. I mean—” Jerking my chin toward the phone she still held, I referenced Ethan’s message.
“He’s got a celebrity asking for my vision. That’s a big deal.”
“It is,” she agreed quietly, solemnly. “You did work hard, and you deserve your success. You deserve a lot more than being dumped by a partner with half your talent. But this could be a triumphant comeback.”
Across the counter, Mom sounded shocked when she asked, “You’re not seriously considering going back to him, are you?”
“Not him, Mom,” I corrected dully. “Just the job.”
Was I?
I hadn’t lied; I was proud of what I’d accomplished, and proud that I wasn’t a complete fuck-up like Ethan thought. Proud that he still needed and wanted me.
But did I need and want him?
Did I need or want that business back? That was the dream I’d worked so hard to build, but was it still my dream?
Or was there something else, something right here on this island, that I needed and wanted even more?
I stared down at the piping tip in my hands, considering the wedding I was planning right now, the wedding I needed to focus on. And the male who was helping me plan it.
Sylvik.
And I realized I couldn’t return to L.A., to my old life, without knowing for certain why he’d kissed me. Once I was sure of that answer, I could choose a future. If he’d just lost control and been overcome by the—the primal part of the Solstice Hunt, and had chased me because I’d run…
Well, if that was the case, then maybe I would tuck my tail between my legs, run back to California, and try to forget how amazing that kiss had been.