After we calmed and Selby got dressed in her normal clothes, we checked out bridesmaids’ gowns. I’d met each of her bridesmaids; Donna and Beth were good friends from the elementary school where Selby worked, and Lana was a close out-of-state cousin she’d been more friends with than relatives her entire life. Our four body types couldn’t be more different. Selby decided she wanted multiple styles in the same cinnamon color, so I tried on a number of them to help her whittle down the selections. From there, my pick was easy: a halter-style tea length dress with an A-line skirt that had its own princess feel. Once the sales clerk took my measurements and I ordered it up, I told Selby I appreciated her attempt to give us options.
“Hey, bridesmaid dresses are notoriously awful, and I refuse to be a bridezilla. I’ve been watching the wedding shows. I’m not going to be that girl! I can’t have tacky-looking bridesmaids in some stupid effort to make myself feel better. I want you all to look good! Please help keep me sane, okay?”
I hugged her. “I think you’ll be fine, but I’ve got your back.”
Selby calmed and squeezed me harder. “Thank goodness.”
* * *
The start of Christmas week was an insane blitz of joyous yet busy races against the clock. I’d had some last-minute present shopping and wrapping to do outside of work, but the real stress came through final preparations for the holiday charity dinner, making life feel too rushed. Donations, party games, caterers, musicians and all the glitz and glam the event required sucked up most of my focus straight through Wednesday, but somehow, everything got done and went off without any problems. Nonetheless, it wasn’t until midway through the dinner that I relaxed and caught a breath on the sidelines, my fruit punch in hand and an easy smile finally crossing my face.
“Everyone looks so happy, don’t they?” Maddie said. She came up beside me with her own crystal cut plastic punch cup and turned to watch the near two hundred people filling the community center. She’d done her hair up in this fabulous braided crown that showed off her elegant neck over her simple black cocktail dress, and with the makeup she’d taken the time to apply for the event, I saw more of the former model in her features.
“They do. I love this night,” I said.
“Me too.”
This year, almost everyone in the office had participated in some part of the setup for the event. Kay from accounting had gotten into the invitations for our clients in private homes and those at the shelters themselves, and all our counselors had wrapped gift donations yesterday afternoon for Maddie and Tania’s raffle. Cindy and Beth, our on call phone operators, had spent the bulk of the day decorating the community center with me. We’d covered the place in hanging ornaments, tinsel-lined place settings and bows that felt bright and airy compared to the murky weather outside. With the trio of volunteer carolers singing beside the food bar, the event felt perfectly festive. Kids ran around laughing and playing, opening presents and meeting new friends, and their parents enjoyed the food and social time without any tension, struggles or seriousness. Everyone appeared to be relaxing and celebrating.
“Glad we have tomorrow off,” Maddie said.
I lifted my plastic glass and tapped it on hers. “No kidding. You ready for the big holiday bonanza at your place?”
“God.” Maddie folded one arm across her chest. “Gramma has arrived.”
“Ah, crap. Is she at least being mellow?”
“So far, but I’m not holding my breath. She’s staying in the guest room.”
“Eek. When does everyone else show up?”
“Tomorrow. A couple of the cousins are crashing on the couch, but the rest are booked with aunties and uncles in the hotel down the street. You know they’ll be in my living room most of the weekend.” Maddie clucked her tongue. “Henry owes me.”
“Yeah, he does.”
Three kids rushed by, one holding red-striped wrapping paper above his head as though it was meant to be a cape. One of the boys behind him screamed, “Wait up! I want it!” Their moms came fast after them, waving at us as they passed.
“That will be my living room.”
I laughed and patted Maddie on the back. For the last hour of the party, we both circulated and chatted with the guests who’d come out. The event seemed to be a hit. Though a few people left early, most everyone stayed until we had to flash the lights to signal it was time to go. A number of colleagues had signed up for teardown, but Maddie and I helped them out for a bit before we shared good-bye hugs and she and I walked out to the parking lot together. She’d parked a couple of stalls closer to the building than I had, and we stopped by her car to talk.
“Is it me, or has this week been crazy long?”
“It’s not you. I think it’s the holidays.”
Maddie grinned. “Bet you’re excited for yours, yeah?”
I nodded. Dean and I had hardly talked since the weekend, what with him preparing for his time off and dinner tomorrow. Still, something about all the family time we were about to share had calmed me down from the last full conversation we’d had. It felt like progress. Good, sweet progress. “I can’t believe I’m meeting so much of his family. And Niko and Cassandra?” I flashed a huge grin. “Pressure’s on! That’s almost like meeting his parents.”
“You’ll do great. You haven’t met any of them before, really?”
“Well, I met his younger brother, Dylan, one time, when he dropped stuff off at Dean’s. He works with him at Sova. Real sweet guy. But the rest are all new to me.”
Maddie lifted her head in acknowledgement. “You two are becoming the sweetest, coziest couple—with that naughty twist, of course.” She nudged my arm. “By the way, did you end up deciding on the thing?”
“The thing,” I mocked, though I knew precisely what she was talking about. “It’s possible. Probable.” I wrinkled my nose. “If he behaves.”
“Ohh, playing the naughty-or-nice-for-Santa card, huh?”
“Exactly.”
Maddie laughed. “Atta girl. All right. I should get home. You have fun on your superhot holiday with the man, ‘kay?”
I threw my arms around her for a hug. “I will. Good luck with the family.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it. Merry Christmas!”
“You too!” I waved and continued to my car. After climbing inside, I hadn’t lost my rosy glow from the party. I popped in my ear piece, then dialed Dean before I headed out of the lot toward home.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. Just left the charity dinner. How about you?”
“Fine. How was it?”
“It was fun. Everyone had a great time.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“What are you doing?”
Dean rustled the phone. “I got home about an hour ago, and now I’m prepping things for tomorrow.” He paused. “I’m really glad you’re coming.”
The warmth in his voice brought a smile to my face. “I am, too. Should I admit that I love we’re spending Christmas together?”
“You should. I love it, too.” For a few seconds, both of us stayed quiet, and I thought about how loved his comment made me feel. Our sex blew my mind, but how attentive he was, how much he cared and enjoyed time together as much as I did? It made my heart twitter. When Dean spoke again, his voice was a coy utterance. “Is it weird that I’m also really excited for you to open your Christmas present?”
I giggled. I’d spent a while debating what to get him, but having settled on a gorgeous watch to replace the one I’d seen him wear with a somewhat tattered band, I felt the same. “No. I’m right there with you. Especially the part where I get to wake up to you on Christmas.”
“Mmm... Me too. Holding you all night. Unwrapping you.” The turn of his voice sent the subtlest pulse of heat through my veins, whi
ch blossomed into something sweeter as he kept talking. “And in the morning, I’ll make you breakfast before present time. I can’t wait to see your face when you open it.”
“You’re so damn sweet sometimes, you know that?” I kept one hand on the wheel and rubbed the other along my arm, loving the electricity he stirred up in me. The way he made my heart well up to fill my entire chest.
“I try. I love you.”
I squeezed my arm. I never wanted those words from him to stop—not with how good they made me feel. “And I love you. See you around two?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then. Can’t wait.”
After the call ended, I tugged the ear piece out with a tilt of my head. The air felt back to normal between us, with no more of that nonsense of misbehavior anymore. I decided then that he wouldn’t be getting coal in his stocking.
He’d been much too nice for that.
Chapter Five
The crash of the surf beyond Dean’s house did nothing to soothe the butterflies floating about my stomach. It was my first holiday dinner with my boyfriend, where I was about to meet his brothers and friends—a concept that hadn’t really fazed me until I grabbed the casserole dish from my passenger seat and approached the two-story he and Niko had designed over a decade ago. The sun had come out during my drive, and with the salty fog surrounding me in my walk up the driveway, I felt embraced already by the thick air, the family event and how close Dean and I had grown lately. Nerves or not, everything was perfect—and my car ride thinking about all this had solidified the choice for me.
Tonight, I’d let Dean put me over his knee. As long as he understood it wasn’t about punishment, I wanted to try it. His sweetness over the last few days had done me in. Besides, it wasn’t that much of a twist to our dynamic anyway.
Why not?
I shook myself, pushing the prospect aside as I knocked. I needed to focus on chilling my nerves to meet all these important people. I didn’t have long to get over it. After a short stretch of noise from the TV, followed by a few voices in the entryway, Dean swung open the door. For a second, he swayed his head back and forth with that marvelous smile I’d come to love playing over his lips. With the holiday madness, it’d been almost two weeks since we’d gotten together, and seeing him now had my stomach fluttering. I loved this man. The realization that he loved me so much he’d invited me to meet his family spread a grin over my face, too.
“Merry Christmas Eve!” I said.
“You too. And God, you’re such a lovely sight compared to the oafs I’m hanging with right now.”
“Dude, come on!” someone’s voice shouted.
Dean muffled my laugh as he pulled me into an awkward one-armed hug, thanks to the casserole dish I held off to the side. Even that felt amazing, though, Dean bracing the dish with a slide of his palm against the glass alongside mine, the chivalrous gesture warming me while his free hand slipped up into my hair. He kissed me deep enough that it was easy to get swept in, the brief tease of his tongue I’d missed rendering me oblivious to the man who stepped up beside us.
“Good lord. Give the girl a breath, would you?”
The voice was the same one I’d heard seconds ago, a lilted but masculine tone that sounded like a variation of Dean’s. When we broke apart, Dean gestured at the younger man standing a few inches shorter than him. His shock of slicked dark hair was the exact shade of Dean’s, and his clingy T-shirt over khaki pants revealed a lean physique toned from lots of tender care at the gym.
“Maya, meet my brother, Luka.”
“This is the lovely woman putting up with my brother? I can’t even believe it.” Luka’s bright smile stood out on a face tanned from more sun than he’d naturally find in the area this time of year. He took my hand with a whistle.
Dean chuckled, and I blushed.
“That’s awfully sweet. Nice to meet you.” When I shook Luka’s hand, his light blue eyes shimmered with kindness. I decided I liked him already.
“You too. I’ve heard so much about you! Heck, we all have.” Luka gestured at the couch, where two other men sat—one a lanky brunet, the other a trim, athletic-looking blond. Luka pointed at him first. “That’s my boyfriend, Sam.”
Sam had spun completely around in his seat with a smile on his thick lips, and I remembered Dean telling me he was a gymnast or aerialist or something. Below his sweetheart of a face and solid neck, he looked it through his T-shirt. “Hi, Maya,” he said.
“Hey, Sam.”
“And there’s Max.” Luka gestured at the brunet.
Dean brushed my arm. “Max works at Sova.”
Max lifted his head, seemingly content to sip his beer and more occupied by the television. “Hey.”
“Nice to meet all of you,” I said. Dean’s hand warmed my back as he watched our exchange and I met his eyes, my smile glued to my face.
Luka took the casserole dish from me. “For heaven’s sake, Dean. Where are your manners?”
He headed into the kitchen, and Dean’s expression was a mix I’d never seen before—half exasperated, half amused. I giggled at the brotherly love paired with a good amount of humor between them, poking him in the side. “Yeah.”
Dean cupped his hand tighter around my hip and leaned toward my ear, the stream of his breath shooting pins and needles across the back of my neck. “Already sassing, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on my cheek before he continued. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. Dylan’s in there, too. Want to join?”
“Sure.”
Luka had already set my casserole dish on the counter by the time Dean and I entered, and Dylan looked up from the dining table to greet me. Even with his light hair and more compact, softer body, the familial genes between the three of them were obvious, particularly when Dylan smiled. “Hey, Maya! Good to see you again.”
“Hi! You too, Dylan. How’ve you been?”
Dean caressed my side before heading to the counter with Luka. I propped myself against a chair at the table.
Dylan had been tasked with peeling a large pile of carrots into a bowl, and his dark eyes shone in his pause to gaze up at me. “Good. Hanging out, working, you know. The usual.” He resumed peeling the carrots. “You?”
“The same.”
Having only talked to Dylan once before, I’d picked up on this kind, easygoing air I liked. He struck me as the shy one in the family, which was only amplified with the firm, commanding nature I knew of Dean and now Luka’s flashy style in his whispers with my boyfriend. Dean’s eyes stayed locked on me the entire time, the subtle promise of what could happen between us later lighting a spark in my heart.
“Would you like a beer?” Luka asked.
“Sure, thanks!”
Max and Sam erupted behind us with laughter, and Luka popped open my beer and walked it over. “It’s A Christmas Story.”
“I love that one.”
“Never gets old, does it? Sam hasn’t seen it though. Can you believe it? I’ll be back.”
“No worries.” Luka left. I took a seat beside Dylan while Dean started shuffling things on the counter. “Need any help?”
“Nah. Just peeling carrots for Dean.”
“We didn’t have enough dressing,” Dean said, cocking his head to converse with us and at the same time pulling ingredients from the fridge that he laid on the counter. Dean’s arms flexed in the movement under the short sleeves of his button-down. He grabbed a rag to wipe off the surface nearest us, then paused to pitch over the counter with a serious look on his face. “We’re having a rib roast, but these guys would kill me if we didn’t have dressing.”
“Oh,” I said, bobbing my head before turning to Dylan. “So he put you to work?”
“Yep. He put me to work. But I’m used to Dean working me too hard.”
Dean threw up his hands
. “What is with my brothers today?”
When Dylan and I chuckled together, warmth percolated in me. I liked this vibe. “How’s working at Sova for you, Dylan? Do you like it?”
“It’s great,” he began. He walked me through a day apprenticing, which sounded a lot like Dean’s days but on a smaller scale. Dylan was extremely well spoken once he started to open up, so as the guys in the living room kept laughing at the rest of the movie, and Dean continued working in the kitchen, distracting me here and there with a wink, heavy gaze or the interjection of a comment, Dylan and I chatted about all sorts of things. I learned about his days studying engineering to what it was like living with Luka, since they had a small apartment in San Francisco with one other man to help with their outrageously high rent.
“You two strike me as polar opposites,” I said.
“They are,” Dean said, opening the fridge.
“Yep. Luka is the showman of the family. Get him together with Sam, and I’m surprised we don’t end up with some sort of circus dramedy acted out in the living room every night.”
“That’s hilarious.”
“Pair of goofs.” Dean rubbed his hands together before grabbing three beers and heading over to sit with us at the table. In the time Dylan and I had talked, Dean had already taken the carrots and added them to the rest of the additional dressing he’d whipped up, cut the sweet potatoes for later, peeled and sliced potatoes, made a salad that he’d tucked back in the fridge and checked on the guys in the living room a couple of times, taking an affectionate graze of my arm whenever he passed.
“How’s your roommate?” I asked Dylan.
“He’s pretty chill. Tends to go visit his girlfriend a lot.”
“So do you,” Dean chimed.
Dylan lit up instantly, and I said, “Ooh. What’s her name?”
“Brieya.” He scratched at the label on his beer bottle as his cheeks reddened. The difference between him and Dean in this department couldn’t be more obvious—Dean, the cool, suave one versus Dylan, the quieter, shier twenty-nine-year-old. “We’ve only been dating a little while, but she’s amazing. She sings, and she’s an art teacher at an elementary school in Emeryville.”
The Discipline Page 5
