Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Stephanie
Who was this daring woman asking for a kiss? Even as the words came out of my mouth, my anxiety started to climb. This was bold, especially for me. What if he—?
Nash brushed a kiss to one corner of my mouth, then the other, short-circuiting my spiral. “I’ve got you.” The words were as soothing as his caress. I could fall; he’d catch me. Who was I kidding? I’d already fallen hard and fast.
“Nash,” I whispered, and he caught my plea with his lips, cradling my face in his hands.
I felt… safe. Cherished. The kiss for my family had been wonderful, mind-blowing.
This kiss was softer, sweeter. For us. Time slowed as the kiss lingered, giving and taking.
Nash took charge, and my racing thoughts bled into the background, anchoring me in the moment.
I was breathless and yet for the first time, I could breathe.
Pantries were absolutely romantic material, highly recommended.
My lower back lightly bumped against one of the shelves, rattling the jars.
But I ignored it, winding my arms tighter around his neck.
He groaned with approval when I wove my fingers through his hair, which was absolutely as soft as I’d imagined.
And would be properly tousled when I was finished with it.
The shelves shook again and then THUD!
I gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a shower of white powder flew through the air, coating us. “Was that…?”
Nash didn’t let me go, just glanced behind him before resting his forehead against my neck and laughing softly. “Flour. Of course it was the flour.”
His chest rumbled as he held me close, and I joined in the laughter. The bag had missed our heads, but the fine sheen of powder blanketed the entire pantry and our clothes. “There’s no hiding the evidence that we were in here,” I whispered between gasps.
Nash tugged his Henley over his head, leaving just his white T-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. There was no pantry stripping on the agenda.
“Relax.” He chuckled and shook his head, ruffling his hair to dislodge the white film. “We can’t track this all over the house. I’ll go grab some paper towels.”
I grabbed his elbow, his skin warm under my touch. “Make sure the coast is clear.”
“Aye, aye.” He winked over his shoulder before cracking the door and peering into the kitchen. “Let’s go.”
I felt like a teenager, slinking through the deserted kitchen after making out in the pantry.
Something I’d never done before, but that was beside the point.
I couldn’t meet Nash’s gaze without blushing.
He’d kissed me for real, no fake agreements between us.
After two years of dancing around the truth, we were doing this.
And as we wiped up the flour explosion, I knew I couldn’t go back to being just friends, where these quiet, heartfelt moments between us vanished. Those light touches and sweet kisses.
And as I watched Nash kneel on the floor, mopping up the mess, I knew deep down this was right. I’d been brave enough to leap and trust the fall wouldn’t break me. Lord, please don’t let him leave, too.
Not long afterwards, Nash headed upstairs to grab a shower. There were plenty of washrooms and hot water on demand to go around, but it was still a bit of Russian roulette at times. After saying goodnight—with a goodnight kiss, of course—he left me to mingle with my family alone.
I helped Nana in the kitchen—dutifully avoiding eye contact with the pantry—before finally dragging myself towards my bed.
As an introvert, too much socializing drained me, and I was ready to recharge in solitude while I finished the last touches of my knitting project.
The one I needed to have wrapped and ready for tomorrow morning.
I hugged Ivy at the bottom of the stairs as she ushered her three kids out of the crowd still gathered in the living room and up to bed, since Eden was already asleep. “Merry Christmas,” I murmured, squeezing her tight.
“Merry Christmas. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
“Stephanie.” Hiram’s abrupt voice cut through the haze of Ivy’s hug and my post-kisses bliss, making me tug away.
He rarely addressed me directly, so this was new.
“A word.” He tilted his head down the hall towards the same small room I’d dragged Nash into the day before after rescuing him from Great-Aunt Edith.
Without even waiting for my acknowledgement, he disappeared into the room. Expecting my compliance.
I couldn’t help the way my body tensed instantly and the sinking feeling in my gut that made me feel small. I was tired and not really in the mood for whatever he had to say. The curious, burning gazes of my siblings watching from the couches didn’t help either.
“You can say no,” Ivy whispered.
I smiled at her wearily. “Yeah, but might as well get it over with.” There was no way I wanted it hanging over my head tomorrow either.
Giving her an extra squeeze, I trudged after Hiram.
I loved how protective she was of me. I may not have been her actual kid, but she could go mama bear for me if the situation called for it.
Stepping into the room, I closed the door behind me and mentally assembled my armour for battle. As much as I would rather be dwelling on Nash and those kisses, I needed my head in the game for this conversation.
“What is this scheme of yours?” Hiram asked coolly, eyes taking me in from where he stood perfectly relaxed by the small corner bookshelf. From the disdain in his expression, I’d been found wanting. Again.
I frowned, adjusting my stance. Being short had its disadvantages when dealing with a powerful individual. Although… Nash’s height didn’t make me uncomfortable. I felt safe with him. Focus! “Scheme?”
“Bringing the enemy into the fold. You told me you had a suitable partner, not some—” He dropped a curse that had me cringing. “Were you jealous of Zara and me? Trying to upstage our announcement for attention?”
I should have gotten an Olympic medal for refraining my eyeroll. “I didn’t even know about you and Zara before you arrived. Guess I missed that wedding invitation. And Nash and I are dating, so it made sense for him to spend Christmas with me. That’s what boyfriends do, right?”
“Maybe if he was like Jarrett. You need a man worthy of this family. Of the image we represent. I have several important contracts coming up, but you’ll be the ruin of us if you insist on this petty rebellion.
Do you know what people think when my own daughter works for my biggest rival? He’s not worthy of us. But—”
“But nothing. Nash is completely suitable. Regardless of the rivalry your companies have going on, he’s here because I asked him to come, and that’s that.
It’s not a question of if he’s worthy of rubbing shoulders with the Addams. Or even being worthy of me.
He’s entirely too good for me.” Anxiety burned in my veins as I finished my spiel, and my limbs buzzed like I’d had too much caffeine.
“And Jarrett tried to assault me. I don’t care that he was a potential big win.
After his behaviour, you shouldn’t either. ”
“So dramatic. I’m sure it was nothing that bad.” Hiram waved dismissively. “You encouraged him.”
Excuse me? Trying to steal kisses when a woman said no was not nothing or encouragement. Jarrett was lucky to be alive, since it was Hailey and not Gabe who’d found me cornered in the hallway. She’d still managed to give him a nasty concussion with a trusty Sanderson tome.
Hiram continued. “After all I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get.
You’re just like your mother.” The words reeked with derision.
“You have no idea what it means to be an Addams, to carry the honour of the family name. You had the best of everything. Name-brand designers. A pony. A new Mercedes at sixteen. Who do you think paid for your high school trip to Europe?”
After all he… what? Thanks to my frayed nerves, the laughter spilled out of me in deranged cackles.
“I never went to Europe, Dad. That was Veronica. And Zoe got the Mercedes. You haven’t had an active part in my life since the day you dumped me off on Nana and Papa when I was five years old.
” My voice cracked slightly, and I hated the show of weakness, but I pressed on, the words I’d repressed for years tumbling out of me.
“You gave me stuff that never fit into my world. Stuff we sold because it wasn’t like you gave Nana and Papa any compensation to raise me.
I get it. I’m the family disappointment, who never fit into your vision for the perfect Addams image.
I’ll never be good enough for you, no matter what I do or have done.
It was never enough! But don’t you dare try and make this my fault. ”
I was panting once I finished. I needed air.
Out. Get out. Stomping to the door, I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob.
“I wish you all the best with Zara, and I truly mean that. She’s a nice woman.
Better than you deserve.” I lifted my chin to meet his gaze, those hazel eyes a mirror of my own as he stood there, watching me.
How the man had the audacity to look disappointed in me was astounding.
Was he really so clueless as to his parental failure?
Or did he just not care enough? As long as he kept up the image, who cared about the foundation?
“I hope with her at least you realize the treasure you have instead of chasing an illusion.”
Heart pounding like a bass drum and dizziness threatening to overwhelm me, I stumbled up the stairs and locked myself in the bathroom, grateful it was free at that moment.
I sank down to the cold tile floor, my back pressed against the door, and buried my face in my knees, tremors rattling my limbs.
Emotional fireworks ricocheted in my brain as I felt like laughing and crying at the same time.
I’d stood up to Hiram verbally, finding my voice, for the first time in my life.
Before this, my decisions were mostly action-based, like declining his offer to pay for college and the complimentary job offer to Nova Designs every Addams sibling received upon graduation.
Getting out all the words I’d said to him in my head for years was freeing, but it still made me nauseous.
I was exhausted, and his accusations hurt.
He didn’t refute anything I said. How could he?
Some hopeful—or delusional—part of me had hoped we could have existed in civility.
But it had been too much to dream of, and something inside me snapped.
I couldn’t force someone to accept me or even treat me with respect.
And I was done reinventing myself into a more palatable shape for someone else’s convenience.
I didn’t know what that fully looked like going forwards.
But if I’d accused Hiram of chasing an illusion, I was just as guilty of chasing his affirmation.
I had a Father who loved me, who’d affirmed me as His child.
My beloved daughter. Chasing a flawed man’s acceptance would never be enough.
I already had my Heavenly Father’s love and approval.
I didn’t have to earn it—it was freely given. No strings attached. Thank you, Jesus.
I inhaled slowly, trying to ease the tension in my chest and the burning of my lungs. This wasn’t how I imagined the holiday would go. Wasn’t how I wanted this chapter to end.
And it wasn’t until I brushed my teeth after disassociating on the floor for twenty minutes, I noticed the tears trickling down my cheek.