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I bite back a smile when Archer’s brow rises the moment he spots the whiskey on the table. “That’s one rare bottle,” he remarks. “Bribing my dad, are you?”
I shrug. “Is it working?”
Celeste’s dad tries his best not to smile but fails, and he nods at the empty seat opposite Archer. “Sit there.”
I nod politely and do as I’m told, noting the tension in my girlfriend’s posture. If I look even a little bit uncomfortable, she’ll lose her shit, no doubt. Celeste is surprisingly protective of me, and it’s something I find endlessly adorable.
“That bottle,” she says as she sits down next to me, her voice soft. “That’s the one you said was your father’s, isn’t it?”
My head snaps up, and bewilderment rushes through me. I did mention that once, but it was months ago. How could she possibly have remembered that?
She reaches for it and shakes her head. “You can’t have that, Dad. Give it back.”
“Celeste,” I murmur, grabbing her hand as I throw her a look only she’ll understand. She looks into my eyes, her expression pained, and all it does is reassure me. I know she doesn’t like seeing me put in this much effort, but it’s nothing to me, since it’s all for her. She sighs and sits back in defeat, and I just about manage to keep from bringing our joined hands to my lips.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Clara says, trying to lighten the mood.
George doesn’t say a word, while Archer crosses his arms, glaring at me fiercely. “So how exactly did you go from being the boy that made my sister cry for years, to sitting at this table?”
Celeste sighs, and I place my hand on her knee. “By growing up, apologizing for my immaturity, and doing everything in my power to prove to Celeste that I love her with all my heart, that the mistakes I made when we were kids will never be repeated.”
George’s expression softens, and he tips his head toward the door. “Grab the bottle of whiskey your grandfather gave me for Christmas, and put this one away safely,” he tells Archer.
Archer frowns, hesitating for a moment before he gets up and does his father’s bidding. Clara smiles, seemingly pleased, but that doesn’t ease my nerves at all.
“I can’t,” I say when George pours a glass of equally expensive whiskey and pushes it toward me. “I have to drive.” I could call my driver, but I’d hate to bother him so late at night.
Clara grins at me and reaches over to pat my arm. “You can just spend the night here, sweetie.”
“In theguestroom,” George adds, his tone sharp.
I glance at Celeste, who nods subtly, a sweet smile on her face. “I’d be honored,” I murmur, my heart overflowing with something akin to gratitude.
“To new beginnings, I suppose,” George says, raising his glass.
I smile at him as I lift my glass and tap it against his. “New beginnings,” I agree, the edges of my lips tipping up into a smile.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes, but I’m going to win him over. I have to, because I don’t think my goddess would ever be truly happy with me if our families don’t give us their blessing. I know she’s pretending to be strong for me, but she loves her family fiercely — even that stubborn grandfather of hers. I’ll learn to love them, because I loveher.
ChapterThirty
Celeste
I tiptoe across the hall moments after I hear the guest room door swing closed, my curiosity overflowing. After dinner, Archer, Dad, and Zane sat on the porch for ages, drinking and chatting together. I’m not sure what they discussed, and the frequent laughter I heard isn’t as reassuring as I thought it’d be. Each time I tried to join, I was shooed away unceremoniously, and eventually, my mom banned me from trying to go out.
It doesn’t matter how old I am, Mom will never cease to terrify me when she scolds me, which, in all fairness, happens very rarely. Perhaps that’s why I heed her words more than I do anyone else’s.
Zane looks up when I walk into the guestroom, a slow smile transforming his face. “My goddess,” he whispers, slurring his words slightly. He has lost his suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie, and the way he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt is ridiculously sexy.
He cups my face, and I study him carefully. It sounded like things went well, but I can’t help but worry nonetheless. Both Archer and Dad are incredibly protective, and the thought of them being mean to Zane or making him feel unwelcome just breaks my heart.
“Is this a dream?” Zane asks.
I grin at him and shake my head. “No, boyfriend dearest. This is all very real, but I’ll admit you’re a dream come true.”
He sighs as he drops his forehead to mine. “I love you, Celeste.” He grabs my hand and places my palm on his chest. “I love you so much that it hurts here.”
My stomach flutters, and I grin as I slowly unbutton his shirt. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him I love him more. Zane doesn’t get drunk often, but when he does, he gets adorably stubborn. “I’ll kiss it better,” I promise him.
