Chapter 61
SYLVIE
Iwas beaming from ear to ear, feeling like my heart might literally explode from happiness. They were all being nice. Really nice.
And I had a boyfriend.
Not that we were official, but I felt like he was my boyfriend. Was that childish? Teeny-bopper stuff?
I didn’t care.
He was mine.
I didn’t need to add the boyfriend title.
Mine.
“Kent,” Dad said, putting down his glass of wine.
His tone was one of complete seriousness. Everyone stopped talking and eating and gave them their full attention.
Oh please, please don’t let him say something rude.
“We’ve talked it over as a family, and we would like to accept your investment offer.”
Kent just stared at him for a moment, his fork halfway to his mouth, looking like he couldn’t quite process what he’d just heard.
The silence stretched long enough that I started to worry he might have changed his mind, or that he was having second thoughts about the enormity of what he was proposing.
No one breathed.
I nudged him with my elbow, and suddenly he was moving, setting down his fork and extending his hand across the table with a huge grin that took ten years off his appearance.
And damn if I didn’t have to squeeze my legs together to fight the urge to jump him right there at the dinner table.
“Really?” Kent asked as Dad shook his hand firmly. “You’re sure?”
“We’re sure,” Dad said, relief and hope in his voice. “Though I have to warn you, we drive a hard bargain when it comes to protecting what we’ve built here.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Kent said, still grinning. “I can have the lawyers draw up paperwork tonight,” he continued, his businessman instincts kicking in even in the middle of Christmas dinner. “We could sign everything first thing tomorrow morning.”
Dad held up a hand, laughing. “Son, I’ve had a couple glasses of wine, and this is Christmas dinner with my family. The lawyers can wait. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”
Kent’s expression softened at being called “son,” and he nodded. “Of course. Tomorrow it is.”
The rest of dinner passed in a blur of laughter and storytelling and the kind of chaotic family joy that made our dining room feel like the center of the universe.
Mom kept piling more food on everyone’s plates despite protests that we were all already stuffed.
Brom told embarrassing stories about my childhood Christmas disasters.
Stacy regaled us with tales of her adventures with the kids, which Aspen and Alder thought was pretty funny.
Throughout it all, I kept stealing glances at Kent, watching him take in everything with the kind of wonder that suggested he’d never experienced anything quite like this before. And maybe he hadn’t.
From what little he’d shared about his upbringing, the Bancroft family dinners sounded like formal affairs with perfect table settings and children who were expected to be seen and not heard.
This dinner was the opposite of that. Kids interrupted conversations.
Wine was spilled. Someone’s elbow knocked over the gravy boat.
At one point, Alder and Aspen got into a heated debate about which reindeer was the best. The entire table took sides with the kind of passionate intensity usually reserved for political discussions.
Rudolph was not the favorite.
Kent seemed to love every chaotic minute of it.
When he caught me watching him over the rim of my wine glass, I tipped my head toward the main room, silently asking if he wanted to slip away for a few minutes.
He nodded once ever so slightly. We quietly excused ourselves from the table while the debate over best Christmas cartoons raged on.
I was team Charlie Brown.
The main room was dimmer than the dining area, lit only by the Christmas tree and the dying fire in the hearth. We settled onto the couch facing the fireplace, Kent’s arm coming around my shoulders automatically. I curled up against his side.
“So,” I said, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. “How did you ever convince your father to accept the new terms of your offer? I thought he was pretty set on the mineral rights approach.”
Kent was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my arm. “I didn’t,” he said simply.
I pulled back to look at him properly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I didn’t convince him of anything. I went to my own lawyers and realtors and had the offer drawn up independently. Got my own preapproval, used my own assets as collateral.” He met my eyes directly. “This offer has nothing to do with my family. It’s completely personal. Just from me.”
The words hit me like a bucket of cold water. “Kent, does your father know about this?”
He shook his head, and apprehension flickered across his features.
“Is this going to get you in hot water?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.
Kent shrugged, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“It might. He definitely won’t like that I went behind his back.
And he really won’t like losing out on the mineral rights, or the fact that I’m willing to just let them sit there.
To him, it’s a pile of money just ripe for the taking.
It’s a lot of money. A lot. One of the biggest deals the Bancroft business was moving in on.
Losing that kind of income is going to piss him off. ”
“We could let you drill,” I said quickly, hating the thought that my family’s happiness might come at the cost of Kent’s relationship with his father. “If it would help smooth things over.”
“No.” Kent’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “That’s not how it works, Sylvie. Drilling means tearing up the entire two hundred acres. Nothing would be left standing. Not the lodge, not the tree farm, not any of it. That’s not happening.”
The finality in his voice made me panic. “Kent, I didn’t want my family to win if it means you lose everything. I can’t be the reason you get cut off from your family.”
Before I could spiral further into guilt and worry, Kent gathered me in his arms and kissed me with gentle intensity that made my thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.
“Baby,” he murmured against my lips, “if this is how it feels to lose, I never need to win again.”
The words made my heart do something complicated in my chest, a mixture of love and gratitude and terror at the magnitude of what he was sacrificing for me, for us, for the life we were building together.
He said he wouldn’t be broke, but he failed to mention he would be disowned. I knew things were complicated in his family, but I also knew he loved his brothers. I pushed those thoughts down and decided to enjoy the moment.
I kissed him back, pouring all of my feelings into the connection between us, trying to show him without words how much his choice meant to me.
We might have stayed there kissing by the firelight indefinitely if the sound of chairs scraping and voices getting louder hadn’t indicated that dinner was officially over and the family was migrating to the main room.
“Ew, gross!” Aspen announced. “Mom! Aunt Sylvie is kissing Kent!”
“Leave them alone,” Stacy said with a laugh. “They’re in love. It’s sweet.”
“It’s nauseating,” Brom muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. If anything, he looked almost fond as he watched me and Kent untangle ourselves from each other.
The next few hours passed in the kind of perfect family chaos that I’d grown up with but had never fully appreciated until I saw it through Kent’s eyes.
We played board games that ended in good-natured arguments.
Mom brought out photo albums that chronicled every embarrassing stage of my childhood.
Dad told stories about the lodge’s early days that had everyone laughing until their sides hurt.
Kent participated in all of it with the enthusiasm of someone who’d been starved for exactly this kind of warmth and acceptance.
He looked at baby pictures of me with the kind of tender attention that made my cheeks burn.
He listened to Dad’s stories like they were the most fascinating things he’d ever heard.
“I think we’re going to take these guys home and tuck them in,” Brom said.
Aspen and Alder were doing their best not to yawn but failing miserably.
Kent shook his hand, a sign that Brom was finally unthawing toward him. We said our goodbyes and walked out of the house. I took Kent’s hand and stopped him when he started across the driveway back to my place.
“Where are we going?” Kent asked as I led him around the back of the lodge.
“Somewhere private,” I said.
I led him to the bar, locked the door behind us, and turned to find Kent watching me with an expression that made heat pool low in my belly.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” he asked, his voice low and rough in a way that sent shivers down my spine.
Instead of answering with words, I crossed the room and kissed him, putting all of my gratitude and love and desire into the connection between us.
Tonight had been perfect in ways I’d never dared to hope for.
My family had accepted Kent’s offer. They’d welcomed him into our inner circle.
We had a future together that looked brighter than anything I’d ever imagined.
And now I wanted to show him exactly how grateful I was for the choice he made and the sacrifices he was willing to make. And mostly for the way he’d looked at my chaotic family dinner like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
I stepped back and went behind the bar. “You deserve a glass of the good stuff.”
“I knew you were holding out on me,” he said with a laugh.
I waggled my eyebrows and opened a cabinet under the counter. I pulled out a bottle of scotch. It wasn’t super expensive, but it was one of the better ones. I poured us each a glass and handed one over to him.
“I want you to be honest and tell me about your brothers,” I said. “Will they disown you as well?”