Chapter 14 #2
I spent a year wondering what it would be like to have that. And I want it. I want it with Haven, even when I thought I might never see her again, right up until I followed Miles into the One True Love.
And whatever Hendricks thinks, having Everly only makes me want it more.
My eyes stay glued to the entrance, waiting for Haven to appear, and when she does, it’s the Haven of old, hair tied back into a ponytail, swinging with each step. The one I first met.
I don’t know what they do in that spa place, but every sleepless night, every dark shadow and weary line has completely vanished. She’s shiny, glowing, and absolutely beautiful.
Also, a little confused.
“What’s going on? Why are there balloons everywhere?” she asks, easing Everly out of my arms, and kisses her cheek. “Hello, sweetheart, don’t you look the prettiest picture all dressed up. Why are you all dressed up? What’s Daddy been doing?”
Daddy.
I don’t think I’ve heard her say that before. Not like that anyway, not like we’re a unit. A family. That it’s not me or her, but the three of us—Mummy, Daddy, and Everly.
And fuck if it doesn’t make my heart swell so quickly I question whether I’m having a heart attack.
Fucking friends. Why did I ever listen to Hendricks?
There’s a wobble to my voice when I tell her, “It’s November twentieth.
” Holding her bright green gaze, her brows rise, and I wait for her to understand the significance.
“Everly’s two-month birthday. Eddie had some balloons and leftover decorations, so Miles blew them up.
And I hung the bunting.” I wave to the wall where the end is still hanging off.
Dammit.
Turning back to Haven, she looks like she’s having a tough time keeping a straight face. “You seriously did all this?”
I nod, feeling incredibly pleased with myself. “And there’s cake.”
“For Everly’s two-month birthday?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if that isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.
” A broad smile stretches across her face, flushed pink cheek to flushed pink cheek, rendering me speechless.
“I knew she was born two months ago today, but it never occurred to me to celebrate it any more than ‘yay, we survived two months.’” She pumps her fists in the air.
“Well, congratulations on that too.” And out of nowhere, I lean in and kiss her cheek.
My lips press into her skin, or it could be Haven’s cheek pressing into my lips. All I know is this is the closest I’ve gotten to her since she arrived in Valentine Nook.
I don’t get to dwell on it because my sister is bent over double and wheezing with laughter.
“Oh my God, Al. You’re hilarious. A birthday party.”
I manage to tear my eyes away from Haven to glare at Clementine, adding a snarl to boot. “Hilarious?”
She claps her hands. “Yes. Fucking funny. I can’t believe you spent the afternoon blowing up balloons, you absolute lo—”
I slowly raise one brow, which stops her laughing quite so hard.
“It’s adorable,” she corrects. “Absolutely adorable.”
“Better.”
“Hey, I blew up the balloons too,” Miles gripes, moving away from Max, who’s repeatedly trying to get his own back and hit him in the face.
“Well done, Milo. I’m sure I can find a medal for you somewhere,” she drawls, adding an eye roll while she ruffles his hair. Then she spots the birthday cake on the table. “And there’s cake?”
“Did Pierre make it?” asks Holiday, breaking from whatever hushed conversation she’s having with Lando.
Haven’s still having a hard time grasping what’s going on, and I don’t blame her. “Who’s Pierre?”
“The Burlington chef.”
“And you planned this all today?”
“Came up with the idea when you left for the spa.” I grin, and I’m actually really fucking proud of myself. “How was it, by the way? Feel relaxed?”
The smile still stretching from ear to ear tells me all I need to know. “Awesome. The best I’ve felt in a long time. Thank you, Alex.”
My grin widens because that, that look? I’ve given her that. And in turn, I know right now, with her staring at me the way she is, it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time.
Fuck it.
“So I was thinking. Instead of leaving, how about you don’t?”
“What?”
“Stay for Christmas?” I blurt, and it comes out as a question.
Her head tilts, but not in a way like she’s surprised at my request, like she’s already thought about it. “You’re asking us to spend the holidays with you?”
“I am.”
“But you hate the holidays.”
Pushing away the intrusive thoughts, I focus on spending the next month together—the three of us.
“I’m thinking that with you and Everly around, I might not hate them quite as much as usual. So if you don’t have any other plans, what do you say? I’ll take you back to Aspen for New Year’s.”
“You don’t mind having a housemate a little longer?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Haven peers down at Everly, who’s quite happily watching Max run around with his balloon, then back to me. “Okay then, yes, we’d love to.”
We stand there, staring at each other, and I wish to God I could read her mind because something is going on behind her eyes. I see it in the flare of her pupils, the faint creases fanning around the edge, the new minted sparkle.
But I’ve learned, as happens with a baby, the smell of shit can come out of nowhere—even at a birthday party. And the moment is broken with Haven’s giggle.
“I’ll go change her.”
Fine by me. I’ve already changed two today, and there’s only so much my gag reflex can take. Instead, I say, “Let me. I have it down to a fine art.”
She giggles, and her hand on my chest stops me from moving. It almost stops me from breathing. “No, I want to. I haven’t seen her all day. I can cope with a shitty diaper.”
“Then I shall fetch you a birthday drink instead.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I follow her out, Haven taking the stairs while I head to the kitchen.
“Alex—”
I spin back around and come face to face with her, and she’s standing on the stair that brings her right to my eyeline. Everything lines up—eyes, nose, mouth.
Blood pounds in my ears. The noise of my siblings quietens, and all I focus on is Haven. The faint freckles on her nose, the navy outline of her irises, the slow bat of her lashes.
“Thank you . . . for everything you’ve done for me, and for Everly. It’s been wonderful being here and being welcomed by your family. And today . . . thank you for asking Clemmie to take me. It was really very kind. I never expected . . .”
While she talks, her eyes flick between my eyes and my mouth, until they finally drop and stay put. I don’t reply. I’m still thinking about her tongue darting across her plump bottom lip, and before I know what’s happening, her hand slides around my neck to tug me in.
All I can smell are the oils she’s been massaged with—florally and not at all Haven—but they conjure up images that shoot straight to my dick, nonetheless.
And when she moans, “Alex,” I know that I don’t stand a chance in hell of not kissing her back.
Her pulse hammers under my thumb. My fingers wrap around the base of her throat, and when her lips break and my tongue slips alongside hers, the year we’ve spent apart is almost worth it.
Weirdly, I register the taste of cucumbers, before that thought is pushed away to savor her grip on my neck and the way her fingers slide into my hair, nails scraping and spurring me on. Our tongues twist together, reacquainting themselves. It’s as familiar as riding a bike.
My hand slips around to the base of her spine, pulling her against me, trying to get as close as I can. I need to get as close as I can.
It’s clear we both forgot that Haven’s still holding Everly, because when she cries out, the pair of us jump apart like teenagers caught fucking against the barn door.
I’m too shocked to speak. And based on her chest heaving while she catches her breath, Haven is too.
A couple of meters away, Max is laughing. We’re outside a room full of people carrying on oblivious. No one knows.
Come to think of it, it’s that age-old tree falling in the woods scenario. If no one witnessed it, did it make a noise?
The answer is yes, because I can still taste her lips on mine. I can feel them pressed against me. When I find her gaze, I can see heat burning in her dark green irises. She wanted it as much as I did.
Then she turns and runs up the stairs to get Everly changed without saying another word, and once the throbbing in my dick dies down, I go back into the snug pretending everything is normal.
It isn’t.
Haven and I agreed to be friends, but there was nothing friendly about that kiss. There’s nothing friendly in the way I think about Haven. And I’m done with pretending I’m okay with it.
It’s five weeks exactly until Christmas. Thirty-five days. Eight hundred and forty hours.
And if I can make it through without a repeat of what just happened, it’ll be a Christmas miracle.