Chapter 34 Adam
ADAM
The final event, our holiday party, is in full swing as the roads thaw out and townsfolk show up.
Soft Christmas music plays in the background, the banquet room is full, and so is the sitting area, cafe, and lobby.
All of our unexpected guests ooo and ahh over what Drew’s brilliant brain created. She truly was made for this.
The decorations are classy, elevated, not too Christmas-centric for our non-celebrating patrons here. But the small sitting room where the kids congregate is decked out in Santa decor, packed with games and treats to keep them occupied.
It’s an excellent balance and everything I expected after seeing what Drew could do, even if I can’t seem to get a minute alone with her.
Daisy has stuck to Drew most of the day, helping, chatting, and I’m a bit surprised.
Because Daisy’s been defensive of her, even though it’s obvious that she’s not much for mingling like this.
I spot the sisters across the room by the food, and the more I look at Drew, the paler she seems to be.
She catches my gaze and smiles shyly before putting a cupcake on a small paper plate, which she brings to me.
I take the plate in one hand and brush my other over her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face, feeling the chill in her cheeks but the heat at the back of her neck. Is she coming down with something?
Her usual fire has dulled, and I worry that what we did the other night—the four of us—is coming back to bite us in the ass. Were we too much for her?
Daisy clears her throat and rolls her eyes before peering around the room, like she’s checking who’s watching us.
Drew gives me her half smile and points to the cupcake in my hand.
“It’s my own invention. Don’t tell my dad.”
That pulls a laugh out of me.
Her unease probably has more to do with her parents being here than it has to do with us.
All those expectations she’s been battling against since she returned home.
And fuck all, I’m absolutely in love with her.
The thought strikes me directly in the center of my chest.
I shift my thoughts and peel off the corner of the cupcake paper to take a solid bite.
Holy…god, that is a good cupcake.
Moist. Full of flavor. Good balance. Delicious.
She twinkles when she sees my reaction and puts her finger to her lip to cement the secret.
Daisy has her by the arm, leaning in to whisper something before Drew aims that crinkling amusement back at me and is off again to hand out food and talk with tourists.
I finish the cupcake as I watch her, catching the way she flinches at something someone says behind her.
What the hell is that all about?
I take a step toward her to find out, but one of the local business owners—Greg, our local grocer—steps in front of me with a smirk. “Excellent party. That Bennett girl has turned into a hell of an asset, hasn’t she?”
I try not to take that the wrong way, but I bristle inside. “Absolutely.”
“Do you think she’d be interested in taking on other clients? I mean, if you don’t plan to keep her busy yourself.”
My brow raises automatically, even though I know Greg is happily married. I don’t understand this sudden defensiveness, but tension is crawling up my back and latching onto my shoulders.
Then, I hear it, the snippets of gossip breaking through the regular chatter.
Did you see how tired she looks?
Must be something in the water…
Or someone.
All of it followed my laughter.
Anger builds as I narrow my eyes at the gossipers. Locals. Every one of them.
“She might be interested. You should bring it up to her. Drew’s the best events planner I’ve ever had.”
Greg nods, if he’s not oblivious to the chatter, he’s ignoring it pretty well. “Competent and creative. It’s a brilliant combo.”
Then the sharper, nastier whisper hits my ears.
Pregnant. Obviously. But which one’s the daddy?
My fists clench, and this time Greg’s eyes widen but don’t stray from mine.
My blood boils, but what rattles me isn’t the rumor—it’s that the idea of Drew carrying a baby doesn’t scare me the way it should.
“If you’ll excuse me.” I start for her immediately, but I’m halted by one of the ladies from out of town. I try to be patient, but if another woman tries to subtly or not so subtly hit on me tonight, I’m going to lose it.
I peer over the woman’s shoulder to catch Drew stiffening. She’s trying to slip away. The whispers are reaching her, and I need to check on her.
“I’m sorry—” But I can’t finish the half-hearted excuse as I make my move, cutting across the room to intercept Drew.
I’m not the only one. Gabe is breaking away from the bar, jaw set, and Greyson abandons his easy grin with a rare look of steel.
The three of us converge at the same time, flanking her without even needing to speak.
Suddenly the whispers die down, because the sight is intimidating.
We’ve herded her into a corner without meaning to—and when I glance up, I realize we’re standing under the mistletoe.
Drew opens her mouth to make an excuse, to protest whatever we seemed to have orchestrated, but I cup her cheek, drawing a thumb across chin, over her bottom lip.
Gabe rests a steadying hand on her back.
Greyson brushes her arm, wrapping their fingers together.
The effect is overwhelming, grounding her but also heating her to her core.
It turns her eyes molten, her worries burning away.
I rather like the way she can’t seem to resist us.
And she can’t hide it when we’re like this.
I speak low, for her ears only.
“You’re under mistletoe, princess. Tradition says I should kiss you. But let’s be honest.” I lean closer. “Tradition doesn’t have a damn thing on what I want to do with you.”
I steal a kiss, long and simmering. It sends sparks all the way down to my toes.
She’s breathing fast, eyes flitting between the three of us. “People are going to talk—”
“They’re already talking. And do you know what I thought when I heard what they were saying? Not rage. Not shame. Hope, Drew. That’s how far gone I am.”
Gabe and Greyson lean in closer, and she asks them the silent question with her eyes.
Greyson smiles—ease and knowing.
Comfort that he seems to come by from some cosmic source.
Gabe slips behind her, kissing her hair. “If it’s yours, it’s ours. End of story.”