Eve swallowed, conscious of everyone’s gaze on them. It was one thing to have her brother upbraid her, but it was somehow more mortifying to have Livvy and Gabe witness this. “It’s fine, Livvy. Let him speak his piece.”
Livvy cast one fuming look at her fiancé and stepped back.
Nicholas gave her a narrow glance. “Eve, you can’t ever do something like that again. You could have been hurt, or worse. It’s lucky we had a bike here so Gabe could fetch you.”
Fetch her. Like she was a forgotten hat or a troublesome child. The tiny part of her that was fragile and weak shriveled up, and she opened her mouth to apologize, but then she caught sight of Gabe’s fingers.
They were wrapped tight around his helmet, so tight his knuckles were white. She glanced up to his eyes and found the kindness that had greeted her gone. He was frowning. But not at her, at her brother.
You’re a grown-ass woman.
She straightened. She was, wasn’t she? And she hadn’t done something so terrible. She’d gone for a ride. Accidents happened, and she couldn’t predict every bad thing that could or would ever befall her. “I didn’t need fetching,” she said, and she was surprised at both the words and her tone. It was hard. Assertive. Tough enough to make everyone still.
In her peripheral vision, she could see Gabe lean in. She waited for him to back her up, to tell Nicholas she had been fine without him, but he didn’t.
Be proud of your accomplishments. No one will be proud of them for you.
Actually, it was good Gabe was silent. She could tell Nicholas everything herself. “I saved myself, thank you. I stuck to the trail, I minimized my injuries when the horse spooked, and I had shelter from the rain until Gabe got to me. Had he not come, I would have waited for the rain to slow and walked down the path until I had a cell signal—which is basically what we did. I wasn’t dumb or stupid. I did everything right. I couldn’t foresee any of what happened happening, and I coped when it did, and...” She trailed off, realizing she was starting to repeat herself, and rocked back, pressing her lips tight together.
Nicholas was staring at her like she had grown a second head. “Eve—”
“Stop scolding me. I’m a grown—” She hesitated. “I’m a grown woman, not a child. Do me the courtesy of treating me like one.”
“She’s right,” Gabe said into the silence. “Not that you need corroboration. Eve did everything right. All I could bring to the table was a ride back.”
Eve flushed and looked at Gabe full-on. The lines around his eyes were crinkled up.
She loved those lines. The worst part of driving him in her Ryde had been that she hadn’t gotten to stare at those lines as he talked. She could only look in the rearview mirror so much without risking an accident. “I didn’t mean to minimize your—”
“No, no.” Gabe lifted his hands. “You had shit handled. I provided some comfort.” His smile slipped as he looked at Nicholas. “Cut your sister some slack, man.”
Livvy smacked Nicholas on the arm, but she was beaming at Eve. “I told you the same damn thing, you overprotective lug. Good job telling him off, Eve.”
“I didn’t—” She hadn’t meant to tell Nicholas off, not exactly. She quieted. Actually, whether or not she’d meant to tell him off, she was glad she had. She was grateful to Nicholas for how he’d raised her, but he needed to let her live now.
Nicholas opened his mouth and closed it again, nonplussed.
“I’m wet and gross,” she said. “I need to get changed. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Before he could answer, she swept past him, and into the house.
The bright sunshine on the all-white decor in her room made her grimace. She hated the color white, and not because it denoted virginity. It reminded her of her bedroom growing up. She’d loved that room as a child, but then around fifteen or so, she’d worked up the courage to ask her father for a different color scheme. She’d done her research, had brought paint samples and examples of different bedding she might like. She’d even priced it out.
He’d sat her down in his study and given her an hour lecture on not being frivolous and girly and wasteful. He’d told her how lucky she was to have the things she had. And then he’d sent her off, with that vaguely disappointed air, like he couldn’t believe he’d spawned a child as foolish as her.
She’d had white furniture until she’d left for college. This past year, as part of her revamp of her life, she’d purged her bedroom of every white furnishing and textile. Purple sheets, a multicolored comforter, pink drapes—she’d gone all out. A statement of independence no one would see except her, but it had made her happy and she’d refused to feel guilt over that happiness.
She would not feel guilt now. She was done being scared and frightened. She’d stuck her neck out and gotten the best sex of her life. Today she was going to tell her brother about her business, and damn his reaction.
She showered quickly and then stood in front of her bathroom mirror, critically examining her makeup. She slicked on foundation and mascara. She never wore too much makeup, for fear of sticking out. But today, she used lipstick instead of lip gloss, the added pigment giving her courage.
She turned away from her reflection and scurried to get dressed in a pressed dress shirt and navy pants. It was boring and neutral, but that was okay. She had her secret escapade with Gabe in her heart and bright pink lips and that was good enough.
“Good morning,” she said when she entered the breakfast room.
She got a chorus of good mornings in return. Gabe broke off the low conversation he and Livvy and Sadia were having and gave her a big smile. “Hey, Eve.”
She immediately flushed. This affair stuff wasn’t as easy to hide as she’d hoped. Eve gave him a distant nod and moved to the breakfast buffet, served herself, and sat down next to Livvy. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law wore leggings and a raggedly cut crop top. At some point while Eve had been changing, Livvy had finished applying her makeup. Her eyeliner winged dramatically on each eye. “You look pretty.”
