28. Gabriel
Gabriel
As we pull into my mother’s driveway, there are already two other cars parked beside one another along the edge of the stone foundation, plus a matte black motorcycle that could only be Dominic’s.
My brothers, with the exception of Beckett, have already arrived.
I kill the Maserati’s engine and glance at Alexis, sitting in the passenger seat.
She’s quiet, her hands folded in her lap, but I can see the way her fingers worry at the edge of her handbag. Her expression is composed, but I’ve learned to read the subtler signs. The slight furrow between her brows. The way her shoulders are just a little too stiff.
“Hey,” I say. “You alright?”
She offers me a tense smile. “Of course.”
“There’s no need to be nervous. They’re going to love you.”
“I’m not n-nervous,” she says quickly.
I raise an eyebrow, leaning back in my seat. “Uh-huh.”
Alexis glances behind us at Peyton, who is fast asleep in her car seat, then sighs. “It’s just… everyone already has their own opinions about me. About this situation. I d-don’t feel like I’m going to be able to—”
“You’ve got nothing to prove,” I say reassuringly. “Just try to enjoy yourself, okay? My mom puts together a really great dinner party.”
This isn’t really a Camille Thorne dinner party, of course.
That would involve several dozen people and a catering team.
It’s just the two of us, my brothers and Chloe, and Ivy and Jackson.
Even though Jackson and his younger sister aren’t Thornes by name, we’ve known them both for years, long enough that they’re basically family.
Alexis lets out a shaky breath, then nods as if she’s steeling herself. We step out of the car, and I open the back seat to rouse Peyton, who blinks at me with groggy eyes.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” I ruffle her already-mussed curls fondly. “We’re at Grandma’s.”
She yawns, seeming like she’s about to drift back to sleep. Before she can, I unbuckle her car seat and scoop her up in one arm, letting her lean heavily on my shoulder.
When we reach the porch, Alexis pauses again as I reach for the brass knocker. The sound of laughter from inside filters through the door.
“They’re just my family, sunshine,” I tell Alexis, shifting Peyton in my arms so I can meet her eyes more fully. “It’s not a boardroom or a gala. Nobody’s here to judge you.”
Her lips part, then press into a thin line. “I know… I just don’t want to mess this up.”
“You won’t,” I say firmly. “You couldn’t, even if you tried.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I reach out and put two fingers under her chin, lifting it so she’s looking at me again. “I do.”
For a moment, there’s quiet between us, the noise from inside fading into the background. Alexis smiles faintly.
“Okay,” she whispers.
Satisfied, I shift Peyton on my hip. She’s asleep again, her curls tickling my neck. I raise the brass knocker and rap it against the door.
It doesn’t take long before I hear footsteps on the other side, and then the door swings open to reveal Ivy. She’s smiling brightly, a glass of white wine in hand and a flush creeping over her cheeks. “Hey!” she greets us with her usual exuberance. “You made it!”
I scoff. “What do you mean, ‘you made it?’ Beckett’s the one who’s late.”
She laughs, waving her phone. “He’s already texted me. He’s on his way. Apparently, he ‘forgot.’”
“Forgot?” I roll my eyes and adjust Peyton’s weight on my hip. She lets out a little squeak of protest at the disturbance. “Classic.”
“Is Peyton tired?”
“She’ll perk up in a few minutes,” I say. “She was fast asleep in the car.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Peyton objects, but her point is undercut by another yawn.
“Well, everyone’s waiting in the sitting room. Come on in.”
I follow Ivy into the house. The foyer is warm and inviting, with yellow light spilling from the antique chandelier above our heads. Alexis trails in my wake.
When we reach the living room, the conversation stalls, and everyone glances toward us. I can tell it’s taking all of Alexis’s courage not to shrink behind me.
“About time you guys showed up,” Dominic says.
He’s sitting in an armchair nursing a short glass of whiskey.
On the loveseat opposite him, Tristan is curled up with Chloe, his arm draped around her shoulders.
Reid and my mother are both on the longer couch.
I set Peyton down, and she rubs at her eyes, already looking more alert now that we’re in a room full of people.
“Blame the traffic,” I say. “And besides. Beckett isn’t here yet, so we’re not technically late.”
“That’s not what my watch says,” Reid chimes in. “Mom, what time did you say we should get here?”
“Six,” my mother says, a smile curling her lips as she offers my brothers ammunition for their teasing.
“And, Gabe, what time is it right now?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, pointedly ignoring the large grandfather clock on the other side of the room, just within my field of vision.
“It’s six-thirty,” Tristan says. He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “My chief content officer is less than prompt.”
“Listen, none of the rest of you have to wrangle a kid out of the house. That adds at least fifteen minutes. Then you factor in the highway—”
Tristan pulls a face. “Oh, and now he’s making excuses. Get a load of this.”
“That’s a bad look,” Jackson comments with a smirk from across the room, where he’s in the midst of pouring himself a drink.
“Well, Beckett—”
“We’ll lay into Beck when he gets here,” Reid says. “Right now, you’re the latest to the party. Sorry, bro. It is what it is.”
There’s a chorus of agreement and laughter. I glance at Alexis, feeling simultaneously exasperated and amused by the playful jabs. The smile melts from my face the second I see her expression. She looks overwhelmed, her eyes wide.
Shit, I think to myself. I didn’t think I would have to warn her before we came in.
My family is big, and when you get all of us in a room, it can be a lot.
I think about what I’ve seen of the Beaumonts.
Just Alexis and her parents, drifting past each other like ice floes in the ocean, the occasional collisions sharp and dangerous, the atmosphere twice as cold.
By contrast, this must be like a fucking circus. My family is loud, full of inside jokes, and impossible to ignore when we’re all together. It wasn’t always that way, but since my father’s death, we’ve been more open with each other, closer.
I clear my throat, extending a hand to her. “Guys, you’ve all met Alexis.”
“Met might be generous,” Dominic says. “We had to fight through about three hundred people just to see you two for a second at the wedding.”
Reid nods. “Yeah, there was so much going on we barely got to say hi. It’s good to get a do-over.”
“Well… Alexis, you’ve seen my brothers. That’s Dominic, Reid, and Tristan.
” I point to each of them in turn. “Tristan’s wife, Chloe.
And over there is Jackson, who’s not technically my brother but might as well be at this point, and his sister Ivy.
I’m pretty sure you met them both at the wedding too, albeit briefly. ”
Alexis nods silently. She still looks too nervous to speak.
“Hey,” Reid says. “Nice to finally meet you properly.”
“Yeah, glad you guys could make it,” Dominic adds. “Pleasure to see you again, Alexis.”
“And of course, you know my mother,” I say, turning toward the woman in question.
“It’s great to have you,” my mother says warmly. She sets her wine glass down and extends a hand for Alexis to shake. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Alexis takes my mother’s hand. If her nervousness is palpable through the tremor of her fingers, my mother doesn’t show any reaction to it. Alexis opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. She bites her lip, then tries again.
“You h-have a l-lovely home,” she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Her stutter is out in full force, and my stomach clenches. I know that’s a sign of how stressed she is.
“Thank you,” my mother says. There’s a slight crease between her brows now, and she glances at me before turning her attention back to Alexis. “How are you adjusting to married life?”
Alexis swallows. Her hands twist together in front of her, her eyes darting briefly toward the floor. Before she can speak, Peyton skips over to her and reaches up to grab her hand.
“I have to tell you a secret,” my daughter says in a solemn, carrying whisper.
A smile flits across Alexis’s face. She crouches down to Peyton’s level, her nervousness momentarily forgotten.
“A secret?” Alexis repeats, her voice more stable now. Something tightens in my chest as I watch the exchange.
Peyton nods. “Yup. A good one.”
She leans in close, cupping a hand around Alexis’s ear, and whispers something I can’t make out. Alexis tilts her head, listening intently. Then her eyebrows lift, and she grins.
“Ooh, okay,” she says. “You’re right. That’s a very good secret.”
Peyton, apparently deciding this insider information is too good to keep to herself, spins around to face the rest of us.
“I told her Grandma has ice cream in the freezer,” she reports with her sweet lisp. “The kind with the chocolate swirls. But we have to eat all our dinner first.”
A ripple of laughter goes around the room. Even Alexis huffs a small laugh, and I watch some of the tension go out of her shoulders. Peyton beams, clearly pleased with herself, and Alexis straightens, meeting my mother’s gaze.
“I’m adjusting to married life pretty well,” she says.
Her voice is still quiet, and I can tell the nerves haven’t faded entirely, but the stutter is gone and she seems more at ease.
“It’s been a change, but it’s been good.
A pretty smooth learning curve, I think.
” She glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes shining. “And I’ve had a lot of fun.”
I smile at her, feeling a warmth spread through me. It’s the first time I’ve heard her talk about this whole situation to someone else in a positive way, without the uncertainty or hesitation.