It was hard not to feel special. Animals always liked me, and even as a vet, that was a flex. My dad always said it was my energy. Animals felt safe with me.
Winter gave me the brightest smile. He was so close. Closer than I would normally allow, but it was different with him.
Iwas different with him.
Having him in my personal space wasn’t a bad thing. The way it was with my parents. I was safe with him; I trusted him. Much like how Chutney felt with me. My body felt at ease, not tense and alert. There was no pressure building up, needing an outlet. There was no panic brewing in my belly. Even in this new environment: a strange house surrounded by people I didn’t know well.
I smiled back at Winter, and Chutney plonked herself down and closed her eyes. Conversation around me resumed, and I sat there, listening. Not actively involved but included all the same.
Dinner was laid out on the kitchen counter, a serve-yourself affair. I stood beside Winter and he was so happy. I’d been nervous all day about the food situation. My list of dislikes was long, but I’d mentally prepared myself for what to expect and told myself whatever was served was fine, and I should expect foods I wasn’t familiar with, especially if I intended to go on dinner dates with Winter.
And I wanted to do that.
There were some dishes I wouldn’t eat, but there was a selection of roast beef, potato au gratin, green beans. Food my mom served often, and I stuck to those. Most of the guys’ plates were piled heaps, but I noticed Winter tried a little of each, and he plated his carefully, creating littlevalleys between small hills of food. No food touching other food.
Like mine.
And I noticed Braithe’s plate was similar.
I wasn’t the only one, the odd one out.
The table was set beautifully. A Christmas centerpiece of gold and garland, gold candles, and each setting had a gold Christmas cracker.
“This is so perfect,” Winter said.
Jayden and Cass were first to pop their crackers, taking out the paper crown and putting them on their heads. It was probably a bit childish, but it was fun. Everyone laughed when they popped their crackers, they wore their crowns, they read out the lame jokes.
Winter took his cracker and held it for me to pull apart with him. It popped loudly, and then we did mine. We wore our paper crowns, read aloud our silly little jokes, and not for one second did I feel out of place or overwhelmed.
Ren stood up at the head of the table and raised his wine glass. “To friends, old and new. To the family we choose. Merry Christmas.”
Everyone raised their drinks and chorused, “Merry Christmas.”
I looked at Winter and he was smiling, but his eyes were glassy. Was he sad? Was he about to cry?
I was shocked to see it, but he let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Happy,” he murmured. “Just really happy.”
Oh.
Okay then.
Everyone else began eating, though I noticed Gunter was watching Winter and me. His smile was warm, and the way Gunter looked at Winter reminded me a lot of the way my dad looked at me.
I liked Gunter, and I was glad he’d befriended Winter.
Eating dinner was pleasant. General conversation, happy and decidedly normal. Soren asked Winter about the kittens he’d helped rescue, and Winter’s whole face lit up as he talked about Merry and Bright.
“Deacon named them,” Winter said.
All eyes went to me—the attention wasn’t great, but Winter’s gentle smile told me it was okay. “It was written on the box he brought them into the clinic in,” I explained, sure my face was red. “Christmas decorations, I believe.”
“Perfect Christmas names,” Deputy Price said.
“Ah, I love it,” Hamish said. “We should totally get a second dog. A little brother or sister for Chutney to play with.”
“We have an adoption drive in the new year, late January,” I volunteered. “The end of the holiday season usually has a high surrender rate.”
Hamish made an excited buzzing noise and gave Ren a wide-eyed grin.
