Brooke
Christmas Eve dinner was…lessawkward than I’d expected.
Look,Wish Upton A Starrmight not have ever made it to the tippy-top echelon of Hollywood wedding planning, but I’d spent my share of time with the high and mighty. Ethan called meeasily distracted, and he was probably right…but I also found people interesting, and I wasgoodat listening to clients, or making small talk with the preening billionaire heartthrob, or pretending interest in the self-important celebrity, or whatever.
But Abydos was different.
Well, I dunno—maybe he’d once been an asshole, and my sister had turned him into a thoughtful, interested guy. But on the other hand, I couldn’t imagine Riven falling in love with an asshole, so what did I know?
What I’m trying to say is that despite my worries, dinner wasfun. It wasn’t like all the other meals I’d been forced to take with the ultra-rich; it was homey and friendly andfun. It was like having Christmas Eve dinner with family…which is exactly what we were doing, I guess.
Except.
Except there were a few people at the table whoweren’tfamily.
And knowing that Sylvik was right down the table from me, knowing thathewas also thinking about that kiss we’d shared? Holy moly, I really struggled to concentrate on the conversation.
I think it had mostly been about Riven’s wedding details, but don’t quote me on that. I’d been on autopilot most of the time, trying to keep my attention away fromhim.
Which was, let me tell you, extremely difficult.
Sylvik might not be as big as his adopted brother Garrak, but he still managed to take upall the spacein my senses, if that makes any kind of sense. Throughout the meal, I was keenly aware of him; I could feel his gaze on my skin, causing prickles of awareness all over.
I probably had too much wine in an attempt to drown out that awareness and concentrate on the meal…but I couldn’t regret how deliciously languid I was feeling now.
I helped Riven clear the table, and joined in her teasing Abydos about how to do household chores. He was a good sport, though, and carried in the largest dish to the kitchen. Since I’d helped cook—I was determined that this Christmas would be Just Like Old Times, after all—Garrak and Mom insisted on doing the dishes.
Which meant it was the perfect time for me to slip out onto the back patio to measure the space for the archway. When I’d pitched the idea to Riven, she’d been delighted, and I’d already ordered the wrought-iron to be decorated next week.
The realization that I’d be working directly with Sylvik on this made my heart beat faster.
It might be December 24th, but I’d wanted to look cute for dinner, and thus had foregone my jacket and hat. I slung my wrap around the shoulders of my little cream-colored dress and tipped my head back to look up at the stars.
We didn’t have anything like this in Los Angeles.
The patio stretched the length of the house, a heavy stone half-wall that stood between the stone and the sheer drop off the cliffs. Far below, I could hear the sound of the sea crashing against the cliff walls, and I smiled into the darkness.
It was probably the wine talking, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at ease.
And then…
And then, a shiver ran down my spine, and I knew I wasn’t alone.
“Brooke,” came the rasped whisper from the shadows.
I pulled my wrap closer as my breathing stuttered in anticipation. Sylvik was here.
Play it cool. Don’t trip over yourself or do something stupid like fall into his arms and request another kiss.
So I swallowed, trying to remember how to act blasé. All I had to do was remember the way Ethan had been aroundmethese last few years.
“Hi Sylvik,” I said too brightly. “I’m just looking at the space.”
“For the wedding.” It wasn’t a question, and despite my back being to him, I couldfeelhim coming closer. “What are you thinking?”
Riven and Abydos wanted to be married on the patio on New Year’s Eve, so tonight was a pretty close approximation.So freaking focus on the wedding plan, yeah?Right. I could pretend that’s why I was here.
I gestured as breezily as I could to the most obvious place for the ceremony, a portion of the patio that bulged out along the cliff where the scrub pines and oak gave way before the view. “Here, of course. Riven wants the arch. Your idea.”
