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It was hard as hell to tell if he was joking or not, but luckily, Savannah changed the subject, and we all followed her lead.
Hours later, Brynn and I finished cleaning the kitchen after everyone had long since left. I washed, she dried, and the rest we crammed into the dishwasher. It was domestic as fuck, but I was practically living for it.
“Hey,” I said, breaking our comfortable silence as we finished putting the last of the dishes away. “What would you say to having Christmas, just like this?”
Brynn smiled from where she stood on her tiptoes to put away a serving platter. “I’d say I’m for it,” she said. “This was so much fun, don’t you think?”
I shrugged, and she furrowed her brow as she came to stand before me.
“You didn’t have fun?”
“I did,” I said, sliding my arms around her and planting a soft kiss on her lips. “But it would’ve been more fun if I would’ve been able to hold your hand or kiss you without worrying.”
She visibly swallowed, a smile stretching her luscious lips. “You’re saying you want to tell everyone at Christmas?”
“Why not?” I asked. “We’ll have landed the Nike campaign so there wouldn’t be any jeopardy of anyone thinking your connection to me was what landed you the job—”
“Even though it kind of was,” she cut me off. “Being a bet and all.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, grinning down at her. “What do you think?”
She beamed up at me. “I’ll put it on the schedule.”
I dipped down, capturing her mouth in the sweetest-tasting kiss as thoughts of forever rang loud and clear in my head.
BRYNN
“You are being secretive on purpose!” my mother whisper-hissed as she dragged me into Weston’s mother’s kitchen.
Our families had always been close, and I knew Weston’s childhood home in Virginia like my own. But flying back here for a big combined family Christmas was a recipe for disaster—not because we didn’t all get along, wedid—but because my mother could sniff out a secret on me like a bloodhound.
Wes and I had talked last month about telling everyone about us at Christmas, but the timing was still off. The deadline had been pushed back a bit for the Nike proposal, so we still wanted to keep things between us until we had that all sealed up.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying my best not to look her in the eye. I made my way across the kitchen, searching for another platter of food to take to the dining room.
“Don’t play cute with me,” she said, following me around the kitchen island and grabbing a dish of potatoes. I grabbed a platter of rolls. “You’re different, practically glowing. And you’re all smiles for Weston.”
“I’ve always been all smiles for him, Mom,” I groaned. “He’s my best friend—”
“It’s different,” she cut me off.
We stared each other down, both holding our respective dishes while our silent battle raged.
“Mom,” I whined.
“Iknewit!”
“Shh,” I hushed her. “You know nothing.” I shook my head. I could never keep anything from her. As an only child, we were incredibly close, and she could read me almost as well as Weston could.
“I knew I’d never seen you this happy,” she fired back, a grin as wide as anything on her face. Of course, she adored Weston. She always had. He was kind of hard not to love, especially since she’d known him so long.
“You two need help in there?” Weston’s mother—Bonnie—called out to us.
“No!” we both yelled back in unison.
And then descended into a fit of giggles.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to tell me everything,” she said, winking at me as she pushed the swinging door with her back, holding it open for me so we could both head toward the dining room.
