Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Elsie
Other than answering three of Than’s questions, I had helped put icing on red velvet cupcakes, sliced the banana bread that Winslet had made once it came out of the oven, and eaten two of the white chocolate chip cookies.
It had been over an hour since the guests had arrived.
Cressida and I had not left the kitchen, but Winslet had carried a few trays of the treats we had made in there, then promptly returned.
Each time, her gaze flickered to Cressida for a brief second.
I was growing anxious. I knew this was about me or my situation. The fact that we were staying in here had been the first clue. I wanted to ask, but since Forge hadn’t told me, I assumed I wasn’t supposed to know. Yet.
The conversation in here had remained light, chatty, from one topic to the next. Nothing heavy or deep. It was almost forced. As if they were nervous, too, and trying to cover it up. That wasn’t helping me relax. But then I was rarely relaxed these days. I doubted I ever would be again.
“Any news on Calvin and the TV set life?” Winslet asked cheerily as she took a seat to the left of me, smiling brightly.
“He’s, uh, enjoying it,” I replied. “He’s made a friend there. Seems happy.”
“Oz said that he’s worried about you. He calls Oz daily to check on you.”
I hadn’t known that. A small bubble of warmth swelled in my chest. Comfort. If ever so brief. I opened my mouth to respond when Oz filled the doorway. His hair was darker than Forge’s, but there was a similarity to them at times. Like now. The way his jaw was jutted out slightly.
“You can join us in the great room. Business has been discussed.” He was looking at Winslet as he spoke, but his eyes cut to me for a second. As if I was the business he was speaking of.
I’d already worked that out. I didn’t like not being informed. It was my life, my safety, that this had to involve.
Winslet stood up. “Oh, good. Do we need more snacks?”
Oz shook his head once. “I am having Forge make a takeout order. I’ll send one of the guys to go get it. You’ve made enough. Come relax. Put your feet up.”
Winslet gave her husband a crooked grin. “I’m barely in my second trimester. I don’t need to put my feet up.”
He cocked a brow. “Yes, you do.”
“Are you insinuating that my ankles are swollen? Because I assure you, they are not,” she shot back at him defensively.
He took several long, purposeful strides until he was towering over her. I’d have cowered, but her shoulders went straight, and she tilted her head back to meet his heated gaze.
Oz slipped a knuckle under her chin and leaned closer to her face. “Your ankles are fucking perfect. I’m saying that I want you to rest. I don’t like seeing you tired.”
He brushed the side of her cheek reverently. I looked away, feeling as if I were invading their moment by being in here. I glanced over at Cressida, and she was grinning and nodded her head toward the door. I followed her out, leaving them alone.
“Savelle men,” she sighed with a knowing smirk on her face and a shake of her head. “They are a blessing and a curse to every woman who falls under their spell. But”—she cut her eyes at me—“when they fall in love with you, then you’re the luckiest female on the planet.”
I felt a small pang of … envy. I’d had guys claim they loved me before, but I never returned the emotion. I cared, but not loved. I’d only ever loved Calvin, and I had always compared the men who came into my life to him. They never measured up.
Until now.
Forge was nothing like Calvin. They couldn’t be more different. Yet Forge didn’t pale in his cousin’s shadow. He had his own distinct mark. As if he didn’t need to meet another’s expectations. He knew he had more than most.
I managed a smile at her response in case she looked back at me.
The walk to the great room became louder as we got closer.
Music—country music, to be exact—and voices.
Several of them. Some laughter, which was comforting.
I hadn’t known what we would be walking into, but by the sounds of it, this didn’t seem like a serious gathering. More like a party.
As if his presence beckoned me, my gaze scanned the room for Forge, but I didn’t see him.
Concerned, I started to ask Cressida when I noticed movement outside.
Through the glass doors and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the back patio, there was a swish of long blonde hair, then Forge.
I tensed.
He was outside, dancing. The two-step. Calvin had taught me how to do it at a country bar we went to in Nashville once.
The smile on Forge’s face as he stared down at her made my chest tighten up.
Stupid, stupid, Elsie. You do not care. You know better.
But I did care.
“Kash is motioning me over,” Cressida said, snapping my attention off the couple outside. “Are you okay, or do you want me to stay with you?”
I blinked, trying to clear my head from the taunting image. “Uh, yeah, um … I’m fine,” I assured her, although I wasn’t. I wanted to go to my room. Write Calvin a letter. Hide from this.
“Go. I don’t think I am staying long. I’m tired,” I added.
A frown puckered her brow. “It’s only seven,” she pointed out. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just didn’t sleep much last night.” Which was the truth. It was always the truth. Sleep brought nightmares. They weren’t easing. If anything, they were getting worse.
“Cressida,” Kash called, “let’s go show my brother the real dancer in the family.”
She had a torn expression on her face as she looked from him to me. It was nice that she was even considering not going for my sake.
“I am fine. Go on, before he comes to get you.” I tried to sound teasing and lighthearted, but my voice didn’t quite hit the mark.
“If you’re sure,” she said, giving him a quick glance, then turning back to me.
“Yes,” I assured her again.
“Okay, but if you need anything or want to leave, I will go with you. Just come get me or even give me a look.”
There was no way I’d take her from here because I wanted to leave, but I nodded anyway. If I didn’t agree, I feared she might not go to Kash, and he was going to come get her at any second. I’d already witnessed his attachment to her. He rarely let her get far from his side.
I let out a silent sigh of relief when she headed in his direction.
Oz was making Winslet sit on the end of the sofa that reclined and getting her feet up while she laughed softly at him. I could go over to sit by her if he was going to continue speaking with the guests.
I’d not paid much attention to the rest of the people in the room. I didn’t recognize many of them. There were several older men here. My eyes made contact with one who was standing over by the bar with a glass of whiskey, studying me.
His hair had streaks of silver in it but was styled in a messy way that stood up slightly. Although his jaw was covered in a beard much the same shade, you could still tell he had a strong jawline. But it was his eyes that were familiar. Something about them …
His mouth quirked, and I realized the sudden amusement was directed at me. I snapped my eyes off him to stare at the screen that covered the wall, playing a silent basketball game.
Gathe. It hit me, and I chanced a look back at the man. He was still watching me. A full-blown smirk was on his face now. His eyes were like Gathe’s. As was his current expression. Was that his dad? If not, he was related. The similarity was undeniable.
“We’ve not met,” a male voice drawled close to me.
Snapping my attention off the older man, I looked to see who had spoken to me.
I had to tilt my head back to see his face. He was tall, blond, a nice tan for March, and he looked … clean-cut. There were no tattoos peeking from his collar or on his arms. The all-American look that Calvin always had. The kind that girls noticed. He was nothing like the men I’d met here.
“Uh, no,” I replied, taking a slight step back.
He was too close, and I didn’t like having to stare up at him.
“I’m Wayon Davidson,” he said as he held out his hand.
I glanced down at it for a moment, then decided I was probably expected to shake it since he was one of the guests. The Davidsons from Louisiana. His larger hand engulfed mine, and he squeezed slightly.
“You’re Elsie.” It wasn’t a question, but I realized then that I hadn’t introduced myself and he was making sure.
I nodded. “Yes.”
There was a touch of relief when he released my hand. Although he didn’t appear intimidating, he was one of them. One that I didn’t know.
“Oz’s description of you was rather vague. He left out several details,” Wayon said with an amused tone.
“Oh,” was my response because I didn’t know what to say to that or what he meant by it.
He grinned. “Are you always ignored like this?” he asked, scanning the room briefly before focusing back on me.
No, not really. But how did I answer that? There was a blonde outside with Forge, who normally noticed me, included me, made me feel seen. My gaze flickered back to the windows to see him laughing down at her. Kash and Cressida were out there now, dancing too. They all looked happy.
“Uh, it’s, uh …” I paused from my stammering and turned my attention back to him. “No.”
He chuckled. “Am I making you nervous? I don’t mean to.”
I started to shake my head, then stopped. “Maybe a little. I wasn’t going to stay long. You, uh, caught me before I left.”
“Where were you going?”
I licked my bottom lip. “To my room.”
He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “No, no, it’s too early for that, and this bothersome trip just got interesting. If I’d known that the female we were coming to help had a face like this one”—he brushed a thumb over my chin—“I’d have been happy to come.”
O-kay. He was flirting. What did I do with this?
“Come outside with me. It’s a younger crowd out there,” he said. “Less intense.”
My gaze swung back to the windows to see Forge was still dancing with the blonde. Did I want to go out there? I’d have to watch him flirt with her. That wasn’t going to be easy.
“My sister has found her entertainment for the night. We can watch her seduce Forge while we get to know each other. Any chance you can two-step?”
His sister? Fantastic. A gorgeous blonde who was a member of the family.
Perfect match for Forge. He sure seemed to think so by the way he was touching her as they spun around out there.
It was like a scene from Urban Cowboy, and I was about to turn into Sissy on them if I didn’t get myself together.
Forge was not mine. He was a friend, and this surge of jealousy had to stop.
“Sure,” I agreed, thinking the best way to deal with this was to face it head-on.
God knew I’d had this happen to me numerous times over the years with Calvin. I was a pro at covering up my envy and pain. I could do it this time too. Besides, I wasn’t in love with Forge Savelle.