Rayden
THE AROMA WAFTING THROUGHthe air as I headed toward the kitchen brought a smile to my face, reminding me it was that time of the year when my family always came together to make new memories. I loved the smell of winter freshness, baked goodies, hot chocolate, and cinnamon apple pie—everything I’d missed. Despite my reservations, it was good to be back home with my family and, more importantly, sharing my first Christmas with Sianna. If everything went according to plan, she might accept my proposal, and she’d be my wife by next Christmas.
While the notion sent a thrill rushing through my body, I couldn’t ditch the idea that there was a change in Sianna every time I thought about it. Maybe I’d done something to warrant the difference, maybe not. Still, she seemed a lot more reserved than the day we’d arrived at my family’s home. A part of me accepted she was something of a loner, and being around people during the holidays wasn’t her thing. Only, the other part, the one worried she was having second thoughts about our relationship, wouldn’t stop spinning in my head.
After we got back from the slopes, I was hoping for some alone time with her, just to get her to open up. Hopeful, she’d let me in to what was troubling her. I entered the kitchen and froze. The sight of my father with his back to me, leaning over Sianna, stunned me. I couldn’t see her but the shoe between his spread legs was a definite indication of who sat there. Was he kissing her? Even the air in my lungs struggled to exhale.
Balling my fists, I snapped. “Dad?” The extent of my rage fired out in the single word.
“Hey, son.”
He straightened, and only when he stepped away from Sianna did I realize what he was doing at the same time Kyra and Tamara exited the pantry. It took a conscious effort to breathe.Christ.I felt like a real ass for thinking the worst of him. Yet when my gaze landed on Sianna’s flushed features, a small part of me wondered whether she was smitten with my father. This was the third time I’d noticed her unease around him, and I’d been with a few infatuated girls to know the reactions. My stomach muscles twisted. Was that jealousy? Over my father’s effect on my girlfriend?Jesus, I’m an idiot.
“Hey, Ray.” Kyra grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the table. “You have to try these biscuits Sianna made.” She handed me one as Sianna stood and neared me.
“Hi.” Did I imagine the hesitation in her gaze?
Cut it out, man. You’re being an ass.“Hey.” Smiling, I shook my wet hair in her face. She flinched then laughed, the genuine music in her tinkle I was used to, thrilled me. And just like that, all was right with the world again. I scooped her up in my arms and sat down with her in my lap. “She looks like a princess, dad,” I said as my father exited the washroom and dried his hands on a towel. “My princess.” I nipped her ear, and she squirmed.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He grinned, picking up a biscuit. I watched his gaze meet Sianna’s before she dropped her head to finger the black leather band on my wrist. Did they just share a moment? What the fuck? I was becoming paranoid. “They both do,” he added, turning away to circle Kyra’s waist in a one-handed hug.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked to get my mind out of my fucked-up thoughts as Sianna stood and walked away.
“Fettuccine Alfredo, Sianna style.” She laughed, returning to the table with an apple and a knife.
“What’s Sianna style?” Kyra asked, taking a seat with my father and Tamara as they began icing biscuits.
“Sianna has this tendency to put her spin on dishes. She’s half Indian, half Italian,” I explained, pulling her onto my lap when she attempted to sit next to me.
“That’s a hectic combo.” Tamara chuckled. “I can see why you fell for her, Rayden.”
“Smitten.” I snaked my hands around Sianna’s waist, gripping her tight. When I kissed her neck, biting the smooth skin there, she wriggled to get free until my father cleared his voice. I glanced at him, not mistaking the warning in his eyes this time. I wondered why. He’d never minded my mischief with Zena whenever she visited. If I recalled correctly, he’d been a lot more relaxed around her. Again, I found his reservation with Sianna strange.
“So, what’s in the Fettuccine Alfredo?” Tamara asked, drawing my attention.
“I can say it’s not for the health-conscious, that’s for sure,” I replied, and Sianna elbowed me in the stomach. “It’s true.” I grinned.
“That’s why you scrape the pan, don’t you?” She stuck her tongue out at me. Everyone laughed beside my father.
His concentration on the biscuit was noticeable until Tamara nudged him, and he looked up. “So, what goes in there that makes it unhealthy?” my aunt asked.
“Well, the standard is butter, heavy cream, cheese, salt, and pepper.” Sianna shrugged. “But, mine is a touch of ghee, it’s a form of clarified butter, cream, saffron, garlic salt, cardamom, parsley, and three kinds of cheese instead of one.”
Tamara’s eyes widened with each ingredient. I snorted out a laugh. “Trust me, Tam sounds hectic but tastes like heaven.”
“I could just grill some steaks if you prefer,” Sianna suggested.
“Maybe we should give it a taste,” my father replied, earning a shocked look from his sister. “What?” he held out his hands, laughing.
“You. Mr. Fitness and pasta and cream and cheese?” Tamara rolled her eyes.
“If Dad can eat Frosted Flakes, so what?” Kyra mumbled without looking up from the biscuit she was decorating.
“Wait. You eat Frosted Flakes, dad?” I asked. “That’s Sianna’s midnight treat.”
“I know,” he replied.
