Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
Stephanie
I smoothed my sweaty palms over the velvet skirt of the dress as I stepped forward, and Nash’s gaze washed over me with appreciation and a smile.
Scooping the floor-length skirt up in one hand, I trailed my free hand over the polished wood of the banister as I descended.
Nash’s eyes locked on mine. Utterly transfixed.
“Hi,” I said, stopping on the last stair so we were nearly eye level, and smiled shyly.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“You like the dress?” It was one of my favourites. A floor-length burgundy velvet gown, designed with the illusion of a wrapped dress in the bodice with short puffed sleeves and an A-line skirt. And, of course, a strappy pair of black heels that added a hint of loftiness to my five-foot frame.
Nash scanned me up and down once more, like he was just noticing the dress. That made me feel more confident than I could have ever been in that skimpy sapphire number upstairs under my bed. “Yes, of course. But you’re beautiful. The dress is just a bonus.”
I reached out, straightening his tie—an impressive Double Windsor knot, if I wasn’t mistaken—and patted his chest. The man knew how to wear a suit.
His wavy hair was stylishly tousled and very distracting.
But the way his tie perfectly matched my gown sent a flutter in my stomach.
It was couple-y, and I loved it. “You look pretty dapper yourself.”
He kissed me softly before holding out his arm with an elaborate bow. “Shall we, my lady?”
I laughed and tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow. “With pleasure.”
The dining room sparkled as we entered, among the last to arrive.
Zoe had outdone herself on the decorating.
The table was beautifully dressed. Greenery and holly snaked through the center of the distressed wood, interspersed with golden candlesticks, their pure white tapers flickering with welcome.
Golden-rimmed china plates and a narrow-fluted glass marked every place.
It was a feast for the eyes as much as for the nose.
All the food was piled in steaming dishes on the table.
Buttery, fluffy rolls neatly arranged in a linen cloth basket.
Roasted turkey overflowing with dressing.
Honey-glazed ham. Brazed carrots. Creamy confetti corn.
Roasted Brussels sprouts drizzled with balsamic and topped with hazelnuts and pomegranate seeds. A heaping punch bowl of ambrosia salad.
Eager faces clustered in groups, laughing. A bonus table off to the side housed a gaggle of kids.
Against my will, my eyes pinged to Hiram, like a heat-seeking missile, and I saw the exact moment he noticed me. His face iced over in disapproval as he took me in, head to foot. In my festive dress, I was formal dress-code appropriate.
Just not molded into the image Hiram Addams wanted to control.
“You weren’t kidding about formal,” Nash whispered, reclaiming my attention as he held out a chair for me. “From snowball wars to ugly sweater contests to the red carpet, y’all go big. Can I assume there will be family glambot pictures afterwards?”
“Just selfies.” I laughed, settling my skirts as he pushed me in. “And the unexpected seems to be a theme for us.”
“Us, huh?” he smirked, dropping into his chair. “Considering we haven’t even had a proper date yet.”
I glanced around, worried someone might overhear, but Nana had everyone laughing, granting us a bubble of privacy for now. “Maybe we’re just untraditional?”
“I plan on remedying that.”
“Is that so?”
“Most definitely.” Nash grinned easily, eyes crinkling with mirth and warmth as he squeezed my knee lightly. Leaning in till his shoulder brushed mine.
I swallowed hard. He’s not like Hiram. He doesn’t think you’re too much.
Nana stood at the foot of the table, her kelly-green gown commanding notice, and clapped twice. “All right, attention, everyone.”
“Everyone,” Gabe drolled across from us, flashing me a wry look as he fiddled uncomfortably with his tie.
I flushed, ducking my head and lacing my hands in my lap even as I bit back a laugh.
One of the good things to come from this fake-turned-real relationship was the opportunity to annoy my brother a little bit.
None of my dates had ever met him, not even my boyfriend of a month, so Gabe seeing his sister get lovey-dovey with a guy was new territory for both of us.
And I loved seeing him, big strong Marine that he was, squirm just a bit. Little sister perks.
Nana’s lips twitched when she glanced my way. Busted. “Gabe, if you’ll say the blessing.”
Gabe obliged, ignoring the murmurs of disapproval. Outside of the family close to me, none of the rest were religious, although not from lack of exposure. But Nana insisted on family grace when it came to holiday meals.
Nash reached out under the table and entwined our fingers. Family drama aside, this was the best Christmas ever. Good food, people in my corner, and a forever kind of guy.
Over the evening, plates were passed, toasts were offered, and laughter bathed the table.
And I let my guard down a fraction. I thought about what Nash said earlier—it was okay to grieve a relationship that didn’t turn out the way you wanted.
Looking around the table, I understood that better.
Joy and grief were intermingling dinner guests.