“And were you a part of it?” He swallows. “The digging to find something that would hopefully put us in hot water or take us out?”
“Absolutely not,” I tell him truthfully, not faltering for a split second. “Victor thinks I’m still here in Maine, trying to get you to sell. But the truth is, I stopped trying to get you to sell basically the night I came here for dinner the first time.” I nervously run my finger up and down the chilled glass, not looking at Ridge or anyone else. “I stoppedwantingyou to sell out not long after that too.”
My eyes skim the table for a moment, and I find everyone is seemingly satisfied with my answer. But while everyone else seems to relax and go on talking about something else, Ridge’s eyes stay on mine. But there’s not anger in them anymore.
No, it’s something else. Something I can read like a book when it comes to him because it’s exactly how he looked at me that night in his kitchen—moments before he had my legs spread wide while I lay back on his countertop.
The look in his eyes? It’s need. Desperate, agonizing need.
And I recognize it instantly because it’s exactly what I’m feeling too.
Home Aloneplays, and my dad snores loudly in his recliner, just like he does every year after all the Christmas shit is over. Tucker and Easton left a few minutes ago. And my mom is working on knitting something in the corner because she’s suddenly decided in the past few weeks, she’s a knitter. I’d tease her about it, but this is what she always does. She’s constantly finding a new hobby that she wants to start. Some she’s good at, and others … not so much.
Tonight, my family got to see the playful side of Stella that I had gotten to see on the day we went to the tree farm. She let her guard down, and she genuinely smiled. But now, she’s exhausted. I’ve been watching her fight sleep for the past twenty minutes, and her eyes finally flutter shut. Within a few seconds, she’s out like a light with Marlin curled up beside her.
With Riley across from me, he stirs slightly, sitting up a bit, and I can sense instantly that he’s going to say something.
“You should give her a ride home,” he drawls, leaning forward, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re my big brother, and I’ve never seen you give a shit about what a girl is doing.” He jerks his chin toward where Stella sleeps. “With her though, you care.”
My eyes shift from him to her before moving back to him. “I hardly know her,” I huff out, trying to play it off like he’s not right. Like this girl hasn’t consumed my every fucking thought after I spent one night with her. “She could still be here to fuck with us, you know.”
“Yeah, okay.” He shakes his head, standing up. “We both know that isn’t true. But either way, I’m headed out. Merry Christmas, you grumpy fucker.”
My mom comes out from the kitchen. “Are you taking off, Ry?” And when he nods, she walks toward him, wrapping her arms around his body. “Merry Christmas, babe. I love you.”
“Love you too. Thanks for everything.” He hugs her back. “As usual, you made Christmas great for all of us. Even if we are grown-ass men.”
“Well, you could be sixty, but you all will still be my babies.” She gives him one last squeeze before stepping back. “Get home safe, babe. That storm left a damn mess.”
He salutes her before heading out to drive himself the whopping quarter of a mile he has to go. But still, she worries, I’m sure.
My dad snores so loud that he startles himself awake, and my mom looks at me and giggles before she walks over to him and pats his shoulder.
“Time to go to bed, love.”
Groggily, he stands up and holds his hand up to me. “Merry Christmas, Ridge.” He yawns and leans in to kiss my mom. “I’ll be in bed, waiting for my Christmas present.”
She swats at his chest but blushes, and I grimace.
“That’s just gross,” I grumble, pushing myself from the couch. “Think I’ll head out too.”
My mom and I both look down at Stella, and I run my hand over the top of my head.
“I’ll get her.” I shrug. “Night. Love you.”
After hugging me tightly and turning off the TV, she heads off to bed, but not without Marlin hot on her heels.
She smiles down at him, then looks back at me. “Can my grandboy stay the night? It’s Christmas.”
“Go ahead. He farts all night, so you have at it.” I chuckle, and within seconds, she’s walking down the hallway with him right beside her.
That dog loves two things in life: sleeping and eating. And I’m honestly not sure which one he loves more.
Once everyone is gone, I stare nervously down at Stella, not wanting to make her feel awkward when I lift her up to take her out to the car.
She’s so pretty this way. Sound asleep and seeming peaceful. Her skin is almost porcelain, and her lips are a deep pink. But even though she’s beautiful right now, there’s just something about her mouthy lips that makes me love them more when she’s awake.
Kneeling down, I slide my arm behind her and lift her into my arms before standing. She stays asleep, nudging her cheek against mine, but the farther I walk, the more she stirs. When I reach the mudroom, her eyes flutter open, and she looks around, disoriented.
