It’s all white lace, with sleeves that are skintight until they reach his elbow, where they begin to loosen until the fabric is long and dangling around his wrists. The fabric covering historso is loose as well, and any one move will send the see-through material moving to one side or the other.
I barely register all of that, though, as my eyes are drawn constantly to the plunging neckline that makes the shape of a V and ends an inch or two above his navel. The lacy fabric covers his nipples, but it exposes much of his soft, barely defined pecs.
Fucking stunning.
“You look like a fairy, Atty,” Abigail says in awe, staring up at her brother with wide eyes.
Atlas’s glacier eyes are trained on the floor, as if he’s embarrassed, which is odd. He’s normally brimming with confidence in all of his silky, see-through clothing.
“You look beautiful, son,” Abraham praises, and Theodora extends a hand, which, once he’s close enough, Atlas takes gracefully.
He sits in his seat, a soft breath leaving him.
“Thank you,” he says. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”
“Merry Christmas!” the room choruses, but I say nothing. I can’t find words, not in the presence ofthis. Ofhim.
If I thought I was attracted to him before, I’m an idiot. Apparently, I know nothing of the world or what beauty it offers. If I had, I would have anticipated this. I would have anticipated the catatonic state his very body would put me in.
I spend the rest of breakfast pretending to focus on the constant stream of chatter, but in reality, my attention is solely on Atlas. On the way his lips close around his fork, how his sweet laugh sounds when he finds something Atticus has said to be funny, or how enticing his skin looks as his top shifts from side to side teasingly.
He’s an evil little thing. Such a sweet, torturous man.
And as breakfast comes to a close and everyone collectively heads toward the drawing room on the second floor, my eyes still refuse to stray. I watch him from several feet behind as he climbs the stairs, his ass perky and round in his pants.
There is a grand Christmas tree in the drawing room, off-center from the fireplace. I’ve noticed that most common rooms have one. The tree is around nine feet tall, and below it are more presents than I can count.
Abigail squeals loudly. “Presents!”
I found out a few days ago that she no longer believes in Santa Claus, which honestly made me feel a bit relieved, as I was constantly worried I’d ruin the holiday for her. If I remember correctly, I also knew the truth by nine years old.
But this does not dissuade her. Even as she’s aware that these presents all came from her parents, she’s just as excited as any young kid on Christmas morning.
Over the fireplace hang seven stockings. I see one for all of the Chastains, and surprisingly, one for my father and me, too. As if Abraham knew we’d agree to join them for the holiday before he even asked.
All of the Chastain children sit around the tree as Abraham sits on one of the two-person sofas set to one side of a large coffee table. My father and I sit on the opposite side, on its matching pair.
Theodora grabs the stockings, handing them out one by one. Once she’s extending one to me, I blush.
“Oh, thank you. You guys didn’t have to—”
“Nonsense!” she interrupts. “Christmas is my favorite holiday, and everyone deserves gifts.”
Then she’s gliding away, taking her seat next to her husband.
“Atticus, son, pass out the gifts, will you?” Abraham prompts, and Atticus nods dutifully, beginning to sort through the large pile.
Soon, they are divided up amongst the three children, and unbelievably, my father and I have a few as well.
“Your family is too kind,” Dad says, observing his stack of four gifts with a slightly reserved expression.
Neither of us is used to handouts.
“Consider this your Christmas bonus,” Abram responds. “You both work so hard, and we love having you here. In no time at all, we’ll feel like one big family.”
At this, Atticus huffs, but he goes ignored.
I watch as Abigail opens a large box, one that contains a dollhouse like the one in her bedroom, but this one is modeled after Chastain Castle. She loves it.
