Chapter 19 – Luke
LUKE
Christmas Eve
Normally, the guys and I hold our annual Christmas party in the poker room at the House of Cards. A virtual meeting with Maura a while back changed all that. In the middle of discussing the cherrywood labels with me over Zoom, she’d burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” I asked uncertainly. It’s hard to know what to do when confronted with a crying woman, let alone an eight-months-pregnant one.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “My hormones are all over the place, and the baby’s kicking me awake all night, and I’m exhausted.”
“It’s fine,” I reassured her. “It’ll all be over in a few weeks, right?”
That only makes her cry harder. “I need to get out!”
“Of the pregnancy? Might be a little late for that—”
“Of my house! I’m so tired of going nowhere except this goddamn building!
” she wails. Compared to her usual composed demeanor, her crumpled, miserable face is unsettling.
“Bedrest is a nightmare. I’m exhausted from looking at the same walls over and over again!
And don’t tell me I can go to the poker room, because James already suggested it. I’m sick of that, too.”
“What if I hosted the Christmas party at Twisted Devil this year?” I suggest, wracking my brain for anything to make her stop crying.
She sniffs. “Really? You’d do that?”
“Of course!” Anything to make her stop crying.
It took a while to convince James that Maura would survive the short drive to our tasting room, but eventually, he caved. I'm guessing that all Maura had to do was cry once to get him to agree.
Fortunately, the tasting room was already decked out for the holidays, so I didn’t have to haul in Christmas trees for the party.
The glittery garlands and hanging bundles of mistletoe were deemed sufficient by everyone.
I did, though, have to promise Beau a walk-through to ensure the space was perfect for the proposal.
Other than some extra twinkle lights, Twisted Devil passed inspection.
The resulting party is a little more adult than our usual White Elephant parties, which included party games, occasional stripping, and, usually, an ice luge.
Tonight, everyone’s dressed up nice and sipping drinks instead of downing shots.
It makes sense—plenty of us are going to be plunged into adulthood by the time we hit next Christmas.
Maura is due by the end of January, and Cat should have her baby mid-April.
If everything goes right for Beau and Brinley, they'll be planning a wedding.
If I didn't know better, I'd assume Brinley knew the proposal was coming tonight. She looks great in an ivory silk gown that emphasizes the contrast between her pale skin and dark hair. Beau stares at her like she’s a bomb about to go off.
When she touches his arm, he practically jumps, like she can feel the ring box in his jacket pocket through his biceps.
As for me, I’m having a hard time not staring at my own date.
Eden looks like a fucking princess in a dark red dress that sways around her knees.
The square neckline is just low enough to make me lean forward every time she bends over, even though I can’t see anything.
I’m just too goddamn aware of her soft skin, more on display than usual.
Her long neck is bare, and I can't help wondering whether she would be wearing the necklace I bought her if I hadn't run into her at the Christmas fair.
I just saw that thin gold chain with the delicate carved poppy charm and thought of her.
I didn't expect her to buy me anything, either, but I know it would be weird to give it to her now.
I notice that her glass is empty, so I nudge Beau.
“Hey, do you have any more of that peppermint martini batch left?” I ask.
His face lights up. “No! I don't, actually.”
“And you're excited about it…why?”
“I need something to do with my hands that isn't just checking my pocket for the ring,” he says in a low voice. “I'm freaking out.”
“You know she's going to say yes, right?” I remind him. “She agreed to be in a secret relationship with you for years. If that's not love, I don't know what is.”
I follow Beau behind the bar, where he pulls out the vodka and the peppermint schnapps.
“Rationally, I know that,” he says. “In my head, though, all I can see is her looking down at the ring with disgust and telling me I’m a delusional idiot.”
“Knowing Brinley, she might do all that and say yes,” I say, and Beau glares.
“Don't joke,” he snaps. “I'm too freaked out for jokes.”
I raise my hands in defeat. “Fine. No more trying to lighten the mood from me.”
“Thank you. That’s all I wanted.”
When he's finished, I carry two peppermint martinis over to the couches where Eden’s sitting with the other girls. She stiffens slightly as I slide onto the sofa next to her.
“I’ve got fresh martinis for you and Brin,” I say, earning a bright smile from my sister.
“Thanks! For the drink, and for being the only man brave enough to infiltrate our feminine corner,” Brinley says.
“Hey! We’re not cowards,” Ryan yells over from the table where he sits with Nate and James. “As soon as I’m finished taking their money, I’ll be right there.”
“He’s not even being cocky,” Nate groans. “He already took out Beau. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Impending fatherhood has weakened them,” Ryan says. “If you're thinking about babies, you're not thinking about blinds.”
Pippa rolls her eyes. “He says, as if he didn't order magnet frames for our refrigerator to hang up both your ultrasounds.”
“Baby fever is catching,” Cat jokes. “Who’s next?”
“Not me,” Pippa declares. “My IUD is happy right where she is, thanks.”
“Me neither,” says Brinley. “I’m of the firm belief that having a child and starting a business at the same time is a recipe for a nervous breakdown.”
“Technically, you're not starting a business,” Eden says. “You're just pivoting the business you already have.”
Brinley's eyes flash with mischief. “Well if it's not me or Pippa, you know what that means. Eden, you’re next.”
The group oo’s, and Eden sighs. “Please. Luke and I have barely started dating.”
“Yeah, the honeymoon phase,” Ryan says. “Perfect time for baby making.”
“If you time it right, you can get all Maura and James’s baby hand-me-downs,” Beau adds. “Score.”
“I’ll happily be the godmother,” Pippa says.
“Hey! I thought you wanted to be my baby’s godmother,” Cat complains.
“What? I can do both! I have great time management.”
“See? We all agree,” Pippa says, smirking. “Luke and Eden are having the next group baby. Don’t bother arguing.”
Everyone laughs, except for Eden and Brinley. My sister is scowling like someone just spat in her cereal, and all the color has drained from Eden’s face. I brace myself, because I have a feeling I know exactly what she’s going to say next.
“We’re faking it,” she blurts out. “Luke and I aren’t really dating.”
The room falls into complete silence, save for the Mariah Carey Christmas album playing quietly in the background. For a moment, everyone gapes at us. Then Ryan cries, “What?”
“Our whole relationship is fake,” Eden says. “I needed to get my overprotective brothers off my back, and Luke needed a PR overhaul. It solved problems for both of us, so we just ran with it. None of it was real.”
“Wow,” Cat says, her eyes wide. “I thought—well, I’m shocked!”
“You’re better actors than Beau and Brinley were,” James says, earning an elbow to the ribs from Beau.
“They are not!” Beau complains. “I figured it out immediately.”
Nate raises his hand. “I suspected.”
Ryan shakes his head. “Are you kidding? Have you all seen the way he looks at her? If that’s fake, then I have no idea what’s real anymore.”
The guys laugh, and I join in, a little uncomfortably. Eden’s face is Santa-red.
“Seriously, though, you can't tell anyone,” I insist. “If any gossip flags catch on, my reputation is ruined. And if Eden’s brothers find out, they’ll never leave her alone. So nobody outside of this room can ever find out.”
“Ryan,” Pippa hisses. “They mean you.”
I tune them both out as Ryan starts protesting his excellent track record as a secret keeper, even while the guys provide counterevidence.
Normally, I’d be right there with them, reminding Ryan of the time he spilled the beans about three separate surprise parties.
Right now, I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
I thought it would be a relief to tell everyone.
Instead, dread weighs heavy in my stomach.
Now that everyone knows, we won't have a reason to pretend.
I've lost most of my reasons to touch Eden, to sit next to her or whisper in her ear. If I stop pretending, I lose the only parts of her I have—parts I didn’t realize I needed so much.
I’m totally fucked.