The room laughed.
And my world was perfect.
* * * * *
I was drunk.
Not on liquor or intoxicating substances but on happiness.
Pure, unadulterated happiness.
Such a cliché expression:I’m drunk on happiness. But for the first time in my life, I could positively say it was true.
“Hey, man, we’re gonna push off.” Vaughn clasped my shoulder, squeezing tight.
The last few hours had passed in good company and gentle conversation. The crowded parlour had dispersed after the cake had been devoured and Tex and Jacqueline had gone to their guest rooms while Nila and I retired to the newly decorated den with the children. Jaz and Vaughn had joined us, pulling out Twister and other silly games to tire Kes and Emma.
“You’re safe to drive? You guys can just crash here.” I smirked. “It’s not like we don’t have the room.”
Jaz smoothed the blanket over her legs, reclining beside Nila. “V has the clothing line reveal tomorrow. We want to get back tonight.” Her eyes landed on Vaughn. The intimacy and tenderness between them layered my happiness.
I never thought my sister would leave Hawksridge, let alone find love and support her chosen partner in the limelight, where her disability was questioned and discussed. But she had and she’d never looked better.
The fireplace crackled warmly, the burgundy drapes ensconced us away from the rest of the world, and the scattered bean-bags and toys on the floor painted Hawksridge in a completely different light than the one that’d existed for so long.
“Do you need any final adjustments?” Nila asked, running her fingertips casually through Emma’s hair.
My daughter’s energy level dwindled. She remained awake, playing Legos with Kestrel, but the long day finally sneaked closer to sending her into slumber.
Vaughn waved dismissively. “Nah, I’m fine. You’ve given me enough of your time making the men collection perfect.”
Nila glowed. “Anything for you.”
Vaughn beamed. “Ditto, sis.”
Over the past eight years, V and I became fast friends. He was prickly and opinionated, smug and sometimes arrogant, but he adored his twin and was besotted with my sister. He adored the ground Jasmine wheeled over and treated her with the utmost care and respect.
His friendship soothed the hole left behind by Kes, giving me the comradery to share a beer at a local pub or just discuss meaningless things, but he’d never be able to fill the emotional void left by my brother—nor did I want him to.
I enjoyed V’s company, but he didn’t control his thoughts around me like Kes could. I knew far more than I needed to about how much he loved Jasmine, how much he found the power in her forearms from wheeling herself around a turn on, and how much he longed to cradle her in his arms after a long day at the Weaver factory.
I shifted in my wingback, nursing the small amount of cognac I’d poured. “Well, I wish you the best of luck for the reveal.”
“Thanks.”
Taking a sip of amber fire, I asked, “You up for clay shooting next weekend?”
V rubbed his hands together. “Damn right, I am. Gonna kick your arse after the last beating you gave me.”
“Come up for the weekend.” Nila ran a hand through her long hair, loosely draping the strands over her shoulders. She’d slipped into a knitted jumper, and her hair weaved with the wool. I loved that the length was the same as the day I claimed her.
Jasmine smiled. “Sure. Sounds good. We’ll come up on Friday and spend a few days with you guys.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Glancing at Vaughn, I pointed a finger. “However, if you’re up here to shoot clay and play with your niece and nephew, then no sleeping in until midday.”
Jasmine swallowed a laugh.
V simpered. “Hey, blame that on your sister. She likes mornings and things that happen in themorning.”
