“Oh hush.” She waves me off before taking my hand and turning it palm up. Her fingers glide softly over the lines in my palm. “Everything is within reach when you let go.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Oh dear, you’re just as clueless as all of my grandkids.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but I can’t quite hide my amusement.
“I’m telling you, there’s someone who would love to love you the way you deserve,” she says, all traces of humor gone from her voice. “Don’t be afraid to take risks.”
She winks, then pats my hand and walks away like she didn’t just completely unravel me.
I stare after her, completely rattled.
“Okay, everyone,” Rain shouts from across the kitchen. “Let’s get this party started before we kick the men out.”
“Damn, Cherry. These are fucking delicious,” Xander says around a mouthful of cookie. “I don’t think you’ve made them before.”
Right on cue, Rain’s brothers twist their faces in disgust, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s a shortbread cookie with cherry and rum flavoring,” Rain says brightly.
Xander’s face immediately shifts from delight to panic. “Rain, you can’t drink.” His hand goes straight to her belly, where the slightest bump shows beneath her shirt.
“Relax, hotshot. It’s rum essence, not the actual alcohol,” she says, patting his chest.
Xander lets out a deep sigh of relief before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.
A pang of longing hits me square in the chest.
That’s what Granny was talking about.
Behind me, someone turns the Christmas music up louder, and suddenly the kitchen fills with the opening notes of an old holiday song Mami used to play every December while decorating the house.
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon hangs heavy in the warm air while everyone around me keeps moving—laughing, stealing cookie dough, arguing over icing colors.
And somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, Rain looks completely at peace in Xander’s arms.
Seeing Rain—a badass woman who’s always loud, fearless, and ready to take on the world—completely soft and content in her man’s arms awakens something deep inside me.
My deepest secret.
I’ve always wanted someone who loves me for me. Not for my family’s name. Not for my money or my connections.
Just me.
But I’ve never felt comfortable enough with anyone to truly let myself believe that kind of love could exist for me, at least not with someone who wanted something real.
Xander and Rain sway together while he whispers something against her hair that makes her giggle.
Then he straightens, mischief written all over his face. “Rain González, you’re the cherry to my wood.”
Rain throws her head back, howling in laughter, and the entire kitchen follows.
Why would he say that out loud?
As ridiculous as it is, the comment feels oddly intimate, like something meant only for the two of them.
As the laughter dies down, I straighten up, and my gaze finds Miles across the kitchen table.
