Chapter 25 - Maren
Maren
“Come on, quick! You don’t want to be out in that mess,” Ethan called, ushering the last group of Lumen staff through the front door.
Snow swirled in gusts, whipped by a steady wind that rattled the brownstone’s windows.
Guests laughed and shook off coats, scarves dangling, while Ethan ran ahead to grab towels and hand them around.
He was animated, surprisingly in his element, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed, and I caught myself smiling before I even realized it.
It was rare to see him like this, loose and joyful, and I wasn’t the only one noticing.
“Okay, everyone, shed the wet, grab a drink, and find your spot,” Miles called from near the tree, holding a tray with glasses of sparkling wine. He gave me a cheeky wink, and I resisted rolling my eyes at how effortlessly charming he could be, even amidst constant activity.
The kids, naturally, were already darting around, laughter bouncing off the walls as they weaved between the furniture and each other, leaving a blur of excitement in their wake.
Will groaned as I adjusted his bowtie for the fifth time. “I hate this thing,” he muttered, tugging at the knot like it was a live wire.
“It’s called looking festive,” I teased, sliding my hands into the pockets of my dress. “I believe in you, buddy. Power through.”
Emma twirled, letting her skirt flare, practically vibrating with energy. “I want to pin the nose first,” she announced, eyes sparkling as she scanned the setup for the game.
The kids migrated to the corner where Ethan had taped a giant paper reindeer to the wall, the kind with too-wide eyes that looked vaguely alarmed about its situation.
He handed out little paper noses like he was dealing cards. “Alright,” he said, steady and serious, as if this were a board meeting instead of a children’s game. “Who’s up first?”
“Me,” Emma snatched the blindfold from him.
Ethan shot me a look as he tied it around her head, and that faint quirk at the corner of his mouth made my stomach rearrange itself. He leaned in while the kids argued over the turn order.
His voice brushed my ear, and he said, “Before I forget… I like the dress. I’m curious about what’s under it.”
“Ethan, stop.” I flushed all over, and quickly turned to apparently check on the bowl of popcorn on the table beside us.
Miles wandered by with a tray of gingerbread cookies shaped like questionable Christmas trees. “Why do the kids get all the games? We should make an adult version.”
“I can think of something I’d like to pin down,” Adrian said with a wink, nearly making me choke on my wine.
Emma took three confident steps toward the wall, swung her arm, and stuck the paper nose directly onto the reindeer’s eyeball.
Ethan nodded, impressed. “Strong start.”
The kids laughed as Emma sulked off to the side, demanding a rematch.
“Maren, you should play,” Miles called out.
I shook my head immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Have my turn,” Will said, shoving me toward the wall.
“Oh my god,” I muttered. “Fine. Give me the blindfold.”
Ethan’s eyes lit in a way that didn’t match the innocent tone he tried for. “I’ll tie it for you.”
He stepped in close. Close enough that I caught the faint scent of his cologne. Close enough that his breath warmed the side of my neck while he looped the fabric behind my head. My hands hovered in midair, unsure of themselves, until he said quietly, “Relax. I’ve got you.”
And then the blindfold slipped into place.
Everything shifted. The room muffled, like someone had thrown a blanket over the world. I could hear the kids whispering. Miles humming intentionally off-key. Adrian mumbling to himself about symmetry. But the closest sound — the one that found me even in the dark — was Ethan exhaling.
“Alright,” he said behind me, voice steady. “Straight ahead.”
I lifted my hands, trying to orient myself. The floor felt different under my feet when I couldn’t see it. Everything was too loud, too exposed, too everything. When I took a hesitant step forward, something brushed my elbow.
“Sorry,” Ethan whispered. “Didn’t mean to guide you.”
He absolutely meant to.
“Three more steps,” he said.
I walked, aware of every breath. Every shift of air. Every brush of sound. My fingers found the cool paper on the wall and I reached out in the direction of my best guess.
“Left,” Ethan murmured. “A little more.”
I heard Miles stage-whisper, “He so wants her to win,” followed by Adrian saying, “They’re not even pretending anymore.”
I pressed the nose to the paper. The room cheered, and I tugged the blindfold off to find the nose stuck triumphantly between the reindeer’s antlers.
“Hey, no fair.”
Ethan’s laugh sparkled in his eyes. “Good effort.”
“That’s what you get for cheating,” Will said, and took the blindfold from me.
He sauntered up and tied it himself like he’d done it a hundred times. Two steps. One turn. A confident jab of his hand. The nose landed perfectly in just the right spot.
The room erupted and Adrian yelled, “We have a champion!”
Will just smirked at me. “Told you.”
The game dissolved into laughter and sugar-fueled bragging, and the party took over again.
People drifted toward the music, the food, each other.
I moved with them, weaving through conversations and half-empty glasses.
I’d been nervous about the party, but the men made sure they included me as someone other than ‘the help’.
Miles was in his element, spinning a coworker across the rug.
He dipped her dramatically, and something prickled in my gut.
I didn’t like seeing him like that with another woman.
She yelped and hit him on the shoulder, and he grinned with that too-bright, too-easy warmth that acted like its own gravitational pull.
I bit the inside of my cheek as she looped her arm around his neck and they continued dancing.
“Are we throwing shade from afar, or do you want me to kick her out?” Adrian sidled up next to me, a plate of appetizers in one hand.
I batted my lashes at him in all innocence. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
He laughed softly, and pointed to his plate. “Was this supposed to be a tree? Because right now it looks like the snowman from that horror movie Ethan made us watch at Halloween.”
“It’s a Christmas tree,” I said, picking up the misshapen cookie. “Or maybe a Christmas shrub.”
He nodded. “Shrub feels generous.”
A small streak of frosting clung to his sleeve. I swiped it off, then sucked the sweetness from my finger. “I think the kids did a great job. Considering they’re only amateur caterers, and they were free.”
“And I think you need to stop doing things like that when we’re in a room full of people, which stops me from responding the way I’d like.”
His gaze burned into me, and heat spread slow and full inside me. Without breaking eye contact, I dipped my finger into the frosting again and repeated the motion. Adrian groaned low in the back of his throat.
“Is that all you have to say?”
His hazel eyes flashed with desire, and he took a step toward me. But before he could say or do anything else, our party of two was interrupted.
“Refill in aisle six,” Ethan said, holding up two empty ice buckets. He shoved one of them against Adrian’s chest.
“I’m not in charge of refills.”
“You are now,” Ethan replied, and started for the kitchen without waiting for him to agree.
I let the noise swell around me and headed back toward the tree. Emma and Sadie were crouched by the presents piled up by the undecorated tree, shaking boxes with the focus of jewel thieves.
Sadie held one up. “Can I open it?”
“Tempting,” I said, crouching beside her, “but I have a better idea. Go upstairs and change into your pajamas. All the sugar from tonight is going to need a soft landing soon.”
Emma lit up and grabbed Sadie’s hand. “Race you.”
They tore off toward the stairs, their giggles floated up to the landing. Just then, Will walked past at the same time, hands in his pockets.
“Time for—”
“I was on my way upstairs already,” he cut me off. “Gonna play some video games before bed.”
I stared after him, the tail of his shirt disappearing around the corner.
The wild part was how easy the whole night had been with them.
Less arguing. Less pushback. As if they were trying to set a record for best behavior.
I didn’t know if it was the holiday vibe or that I’d come back, but something had softened around the edges of their usual antics.
Someone tapped my shoulder. “Do you know where the ice went?”
I blinked. Right. Ice. That was where Ethan and Adrian had vanished to earlier. “Let me check,” I said, already heading toward the back hall.
I passed the archway to the kitchen just as both of them came out. Adrian had his curls smashed beneath an oversized winter hat he hadn’t bothered to fix, and Ethan carried a look that said he’d reached the end of his patience with whatever they found in the freezer.
“We need to make an emergency ice run,” he said.
Adrian hooked his arm into mine. “And you’re coming with us.”
“But… the kids…”
“They’re fine,” Ethan said, already reaching for the coat hooks by the door. He shoved a puffer at Adrian and handed mine with a quick nod toward the living room. “Miles! Keep an eye, will you? Getting more ice.”
Miles shot a thumbs up from across the room, mid-conversation with a group of staff. And that was it. Decision made. Ethan held the door, the wind hissing through the crack like it was warning us. I hesitated on the threshold.
“Is this a good idea?” I asked. “That storm is building.”
Ethan pulled his hood up. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back long before it hits.”
Adrian was already halfway onto the porch, boots crunching against the thin layer of fresh powder. He didn’t seem too fazed by it, and I decided to take that as assurance.
I stepped outside, the warmth of the house closing behind us.
The music dimmed as the door shut, leaving only the bite of winter and the three of us hustling to the SUV.
The moment I climbed in, the cold clung to my cheeks and the windshield fogged at the edges, the last of the party noise fading into nothing as Ethan started the engine.
“Pick a station, for God’s sake,” Ethan muttered. “You’re driving me crazy.”
Adrian twiddled the knob on the radio a few more times, before settling on a classic holiday station.
The snow slapped against the windshield in relentless sheets, wiper blades squealing and scraping, barely keeping a line of sight clear.
Ethan’s jaw was set, hands gripping the wheel like it was a life preserver, eyes squinting through the blur of white.
I stayed in the back, knees pressed to Adrian’s seat, a sticky twist of unease curling in my stomach.
“Maybe slow down,” Adrian said, voice rising over the wind and the wipers.
Ethan shook his head. “I want to get back before it hits.”
I chewed my lip and glanced at the snow-covered rooftops racing past. I needed a distraction.
“You should’ve seen Em and Sadie tonight,” I said, voice catching slightly in the cab’s rumble. “They were under the tree, poking through the boxes. I don’t think they’ll last till Christmas morning.”
Adrian snorted, turning toward me. “They’ll last as long as you let them. And they have you wrapped around their little fingers.”
“Hey,” I said, jabbing my knee into the back of his seat, “I’m the good cop. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Looks like I’m going to have to put some locks on the gifts when we get back.”
I laughed, the tension loosening just enough to breathe. A jingle popped over the radio, and Adrian crooned along off-key, ignoring Ethan’s mounting threats to get him to stop.
And then the SUV lurched. I grabbed out with both hands, one clamping on the door handle and the other on Adrian’s headrest. My mouth was open, but no sound or breath came out. It all happened so quickly.
The tires slipped on the slick ice, the wheel yanking to the left as Ethan fought for control.
The world tilted sideways, a roar of wind and snow flooding the windows, and we skidded off the road, over the sidewalk, crunching through a rising bank that swallowed the wheels.
Ethan cursed under his breath as the car settled against the snow, wedged but thankfully upright.
I pressed my hands to the seat in front of me, trying to slow my heartbeat as the storm picked up like it had a personal vendetta. Outside, snow whipped in every direction, a white blur hammering at the glass. Inside, the cab smelled of heated vinyl, wet coats, and adrenaline.
“We’re stuck,” Adrian said in disbelief.
“No shit.” Ethan killed the engine and fell back into his seat.