Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Brooke
“Merry Christmas!” my sister announced joyfully as I pulled the front door open. “The bride is here!”
I burst into laughter, even as I reached forward to hug her and take the tray of pastries from her arms. I asked Abydos, “Has she started leaning into her Bridezilla era yet?”
His expression was carefully blank as he juggled bags and bins. “I don’t know what that means, and even if I did, I would never insinuate my Mate is using her status as a wife-to-be to finagle special treatment.”
Holding the door open with my butt, I snickered and took the wine from Abydos, leaving him in charge of the big bag from Cole’s Seafood. I’d been looking forward to Riven’s salmon all day.
I peered behind them at the dark SUV parked on the road in front of Mom’s house. “Where’s Sylvik? He’s coming separately?”
When my sister and Abydos exchanged a confused glance, I felt my stomach clench in embarrassment.
“We didn’t invite him,” Abydos confessed.
Riven nodded. “You said Christmas dinner was family only.”
“But Sylvik—” is family. Luckily, I clamped my lips closed on the words and hid my embarrassment by leading them inside. “Tarkhan and Sami are out back, fiddling with the grill, and Mom—”
“Is wrapping some last-minute presents!” my mother called from her bedroom. “Don’t come in here.”
Riven snorted. “Like I was going to go barging in there. Come on, dkaar.” She jerked her chin toward kitchen, and Abydos obediently followed.
Grateful for an excuse to escape, I hurried to the living room, where earlier I’d set up an appetizer, dessert, and drink table beside the large Christmas tree. The one I’d knocked over on top of Sylvik.
Sylvik is family.
He wasn’t going to be here for Christmas dinner, and I was surprised by how hollow that made me feel.
Guilty, almost. I wanted him here, and didn’t want to think of him spending the day alone.
But my mother had made it clear she wanted this dinner to be just for her babies, and she wouldn’t think Sylvik was family.
Pressing my lips together, I slid the wine into the silver ice bucket.
He called me dkaar. Last night, when he made me come not once, but twice.
And then when he’d begun to move that deliciously ribbed cock in and out of me, I’d felt my arousal spike again and realized I was well on my way to my third orgasm… before we were interrupted.
I tipped my head back to look up at the top of the tree, not really seeing it, or the wine bottle I was arranging and rearranging in the bucket.
On the night of the solstice, I’d been the one to stop our kiss. But last night, despite the cold, despite the discomfort, I’d wanted him. All of him.
And he’d wanted me.
He wasn’t as in control as I’d seen him in the past, no, but…he was still Sylvik, and he’d wanted me. This hadn’t been the heat of the moment, or being caught up in the chase. He’d wanted me.
Even with all my messy chaos, he’d wanted me. He’d praised me.
I remembered the look of ecstasy on his face as he’d drawn his fingers—the fingers which had been inside me—into his mouth, and I had to press my thighs together to capture that sweet throbbing.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I jumped and fumbled for my butt in excitement. But it wasn’t Sylvik texting me to tell me he was on his way.
It was Ethan.
I’m tired of you leaving me on read, so I’m taking action.
Check your email. I bought you a ticket back out here, the plane leaves tomorrow morning.
Don’t worry about scrambling to pack because I didn’t bother paying for a checked bag.
That’s right, Brooke-bear! My Christmas present to you is buying you a whole new wardrobe when you get back out here, so you can look as polished and smooth as possible in front of our new clients!
You’re welcome.
Look, I know that you know that you’re NOT going to be happy out there in that creepy little town.
Your dream is out here in L.A., Brooke-bear, and I’m going to make it happen.
Once you clinch this deal for this wedding, I’m willing to give you SIXTY percent of the profits.
You know that’s a big fucking deal, right?
I’m sending a driver to pick you up tomorrow. I’ll see you soon, and can’t wait to kiss you again, once you’re looking the part of a successful wedding planner to the stars.
All of my earlier joy had been chased aside by the empty pit in my stomach.
Ethan…sounded so sure. Smug, yeah, but… I mean, he was right; I did like my job in L.A.. But not necessarily with him.
No. Frowning, I swiped the message away. Definitely not with him. Not with a guy who thought taking me out to dinner was a special treat, or who tried to manipulate me with praise, or who thought I was going to forgo my sister’s wedding to be back in California by the 31st.
But he was offering me another chance at my dream. The celebrity who wanted to hire me? He was a big shot, and if I did his wedding, I would be a guarantee for the rest of the big Hollywood weddings.
It wouldn’t be you. It would be Wish Upton a Starr. It wouldn’t be Brooke Starr’s event, it would be Ethan Upton’s. Could you live with that to achieve your dream?
“Brooke, honey, come help me bring in the gifts!”
Mom’s call shook me out of my quandary. I sighed and shoved my phone back into my pocket. There was so much I loved about Eastshore, and last night—realizing Sylvik did want me—made this place even more appealing.
But the Brooke of a few months ago, the Brooke who had sobbed at the thought of losing the business she’d worked so hard to build…she would’ve jumped on what Ethan was offering, wouldn’t she?
“Brooke!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I called.
“You give me anymore sass, young lady, and you’ll have to open your stocking last!”
I was reluctantly grinning as I went to help my mother. Being able to hang out with her was one of the cool things about being back here. Sure, she snored, and sure, she was a bit flighty…but so was I. We were actually a lot alike—
Wait, I didn’t snore, did I?
You don’t honestly think Ethan would pass up a chance to criticize you, if you did?
Right.
It was amazing what a few months of post-breakup therapy could help me realize about myself.
Christmas afternoon was wonderfully chaotic and fun.
We’d drawn numbers for a gift exchange, and luckily I’d landed Sami, since I knew her better than I knew Tarkhan or Abydos.
Since I knew she valued the professional image she projected around Eastshore, I’d purchased her a gift basket of fancy organic hair products from my salon in L.A.
, and she was appropriately excited to try them all out.
Abydos gave me a subscription to the cheese-of-the-month club.
“You’ll have to tell me your address, once you decide upon it,” he said with a carefully neutral expression, and I wondered what he knew about my struggle to decide on my future. “We can have it delivered to my house until then.”
I thanked him, but wondered—based on the way his eyes sparkled with amusement—if maybe he was just interested in having a monthly cheese delivery.
Dinner was just as delicious as I’d been dreaming. The salmon was perfectly tender, Mom’s twice-baked potatoes were better than I’d remembered, and all the sides were incredible. We sat around the table joking and telling stories as the sun sank lower in the western sky.
“Okay!” Riven called out over the laughter. “Most expensive gift! Go!” She pointed a finger at Sami, who immediately replied.
“A horse!” When the rest of us burst into incredulous laughter or questions, she nodded enthusiastically. “A horse. My father bought it for like my fifteenth birthday, maybe? What was I going to do with a horse?”
I’d only had the one glass of wine, so I couldn’t blame the pinot for how hard I was laughing right now. “Don’t all little girls go through a horsey stage? I remember begging my mother for one.”
“Yes, when we’re seven,” Sami chortled. “By fifteen, I was grossed out by the thought of taking riding lessons. All I wanted was a pair of Prada slingbacks!”
Mom leaned forward. “You were eight, Brooke, when you made an impassioned argument for why we should get a horse—you had an interpretive dance entitled How Horses Bring Meaning To Our Lives, and a little diorama of your bedroom, and a food pyramid of all the vegetables you would sacrifice to feed it.”
“Wait, wait!” Tarkhan was struggling to form words. Or perhaps draw breath. “Your bedroom? The horse was going to live with you?”
“And eat my Brussels sprouts, apparently!”
Abydos’s low rumble broke through the laughter when he lifted his glass for attention. “Worst gift?” He glanced at Riven.
She winced. “I got my cancer diagnosis three days before my birthday.”
“Oh shit,” I whispered, stomach clenched. “I remember that.”
“Way to bring down the mood, man,” Tarkhan teased. “My worst gift was that—what was it you gave me, Abby?”
“Don’t call me that,” the scarred male intoned. “And I’ve never given you a gift.”
Tarkhan snapped, as if just remembering. “That’s right, you haven’t.” He grinned at his best friend. “Merry Christmas anyhow, you jerk.”
“Merry Christmas.” Abydos lifted his wineglass and deadpanned, “I value our relationship and your contributions to my life.”
The other male pretended to sniff and wipe his eyes as he threw his arm around Sami’s chair. “That’s the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me.”
Mom lifted her finger to draw attention. “Okay, I have a contender.” She glanced back and forth between me and Riven. “Our first Christmas together, when I was hugely pregnant with Brooke, your father gave me a mop and bucket set.”
As Tarkhan burst into incredulous laughter, Sami, Riven, and I gasped in outrage. “He expected you to mop?” Sami sputtered.
Mom just shrugged, a small grin on her face as she settled back into her chair. “I think the idiot was just clueless about what to get me. Frankly, I’m impressed I stayed with him for so long.”
“Me too,” muttered Riven.
But Abydos nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Sharon. You deserved better.”
“Oh, I got better,” Mom announced, reaching over to twine her fingers around mine. “My girls are the best, and now I have Sami too.”
“We love you, Mom,” Riven whispered.
I rarely thought about my father anymore, since he hadn’t been a part of my life since I was very small, but my earlier thoughts about Sylvik had me wondering more about their relationship.
“Why did you marry him?” I blurted, then winced, hoping I wasn’t bringing down the vibe of the holiday dinner.
My mother didn’t seem to mind, though. She shrugged.
“I got pregnant.” She winked at me. “Sorry if that’s TMI, honey, but it’s true.
Then I stayed with him, because that’s what you did back then.
I convinced myself he had feelings for me, and he was always telling me he loved me to the moon and back…
” She rotated her free hand. “Et cetera. But meanwhile he was out sleeping around, and Lord knows what else.”
It took me a moment to realize the low rumbling I was hearing was coming from both Tarkhan and Abydos. No, their chests. Mom looked as surprised as I felt.
Sami sighed and settled back against Tarkhan, reaching over to pat his chest. “It’s okay, dkaar. Not all humans think like you do.”
“How do you think?” Mom asked before I could.
Abydos sighed and placed his glass on the table before gathering Riven’s hand in his.
“To an orc, it is impossible to consider even looking at another female after he’s found his Mate.
Humans use words like love and devotion, but Mating is beyond feelings like that.
” The way he looked down at Riven made my chest ache. Was that jealousy? Of my little sister?
“Mating is a biological thing,” Tarkhan explained, and when Sami poked him, he snorted. “No, not just sex, I mean…”
“There is a knowing,” Sami whispered, beaming up at him. Then she turned her smile to Mom and me. “Even humans can feel it. At least, I can. It took me a while to accept that Tarkhan was my Mate, but once I did, I felt the certainty. It was crazy.”
“There’s a connection,” Riven agreed with a nod. “It’s more than physical, more than emotional. I know where Abydos is without having to guess, and sometimes he knows what I’m thinking.”
My eyes were wide. “There’s…a knowing?” I whispered.
Sami nodded. “That’s what finding your Mate is like. You just…know.”
The conversation swirled around me, but I found myself staring down at my dessert plate and the remains of Mom’s pie and Riven’s pastries and the be-boobed snowwoman sugar cookie.
There is a knowing.
The last two weeks, I’d felt drawn to Sylvik in a way I’d never experienced.
I thought it was just like…an instalust kinda thing.
Because let’s be honest; the dude is hot.
And yeah, maybe I thought of him constantly when I wasn’t with him, and maybe I tried to make myself better, make myself the kind of person he would want to be around, even while constantly terrified I couldn’t be that sort of person.
But I’d thought that was just…me having a major crush on him.
But then last night.
I remembered how intent he’d looked when he’d stood between my legs and slid his cock into me. It wasn’t the bliss of a male thinking of his own pleasure; it was Sylvik, watching me.
There is a knowing.
I shook my head. We’d only known each other for a short time. I didn’t even know if he wanted to be anything more than fuck buddies.
But…
But I knew how to find out.
“Mom,” I blurted as the conversation swirled around us, “do you have any to-go containers?