SYLER MCKNIGHT: A Holiday Tale

by Brent, Cora

  “You buy me one. I’m kind of unemployed.”

  “You drive a hard bargain. But you already know you’ll get your way.”

  She batted her eyes. “We should look for Santa while we’re at the mall. I need to sit on his lap and tell him what I want for Christmas.”

  “Sit in my lap instead. I’ll make sure you get what you want.”

  She threaded her fingers carefully through mine. “On second thought, forget Santa. Just hold my hand and feed me mall pretzels. That’s what I really want.”

  19

  Thirty Candles

  Katrina

  Beansy woke me up.

  I cracked one eye and saw a painted blue one watching me from three inches away.

  “Mommy said we should wake you up,” Gretel informed me.

  I yawned and sat up. “What time is it? And what day is it?”

  Gretel bounced on my bed. “It’s Christmas Eve! It’s your birthday!” She pulled at me. “Come see the surprise.”

  “What surprise?”

  She looked at me like I was daft. “THE surprise.”

  I rubbed my eyes and checked out the time. I’d slept until nine. I hadn’t meant to.

  “Come downstairs, Aunt Katty,” Gretel demanded.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, sweetie,” I promised and that satisfied her enough to send her little feet scampering down the hallway.

  I stretched in bed and felt a rush of exhilaration. The magic of yesterday was still going strong. The only thing missing was Syler in bed beside me. I couldn’t stop playing in my head the words he’d said to me in Gemma’s kitchen. All these years I’d never known how he felt. I’d never really understood who he was.

  How much time had we wasted being at odds with each other?

  On the other hand, maybe that time wasn’t wasted after all. Maybe it was exactly what we needed to get us here. I should be grateful for the journey, grateful it wasn’t easy. That made it all the more worthwhile.

  After spending yesterday afternoon at the mall, shopping and laughing and verbally sparring and just enjoying each other, we came home to find that Gemma had cooked a delicious lasagna dinner. Afterwards, we all stopped by the stone house to visit with Annika, Levi and the animals before taking the kids on a holiday light tour of Maple Springs. Everyone was yawning by time we arrived home, including me.

  Ryland opted to stay at the Maple Springs Inn, which bothered Gemma. He’d been on the quiet side since his surprise arrival yesterday. Ryland had never been super chatty to begin with but Gemma thought maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Syler muttered that Ryland was probably stressing over the work he was missing. I didn’t know Ryland well enough to have an opinion.

  Gemma disappeared into her room after we tucked the kids into bed, leaving Syler and me free to do as we pleased.

  We kissed for a few passionate minutes outside the door to my room, torturing each other with our clothes on. The day had been incredible. The night could be the same. But we held back, reluctantly saying goodnight at the door. Neither of us had slept well the night before. By unspoken agreement we didn’t want to rush through our next intimate moments. We wanted to be able to take our time.

  But now that I’d enjoyed a solid night of sleep my body ached for his. With a groan I leapt out of bed and padded across the hall to the bathroom. I didn’t know what ‘surprise’ Gretel was referring to but knowing Gem, she’d probably cooked a big birthday breakfast. I brushed my teeth, rolled my unruly hair into a messy bun and pulled on a cozy bathrobe. I was hardly the sexiest thing on earth but looking slightly less than awful would have to suffice since my presence was awaited downstairs.

  I’d hardly made it three steps out of the bathroom when I was seized by strong arms, lifted against a warm chest and carried to the bedroom I’d exited moments ago. I didn’t even have time to squeal his name before he set me down and dove in for a kiss that put last night’s make out session to shame. Not that I was on the verge of complaining. The feel of the overnight scruff on his jaw stimulated my basic instincts and he smelled like an intoxicating mix of soap and coffee.

  I slipped my arms around his shoulders, happily giving in, my body igniting as I pressed into his hard muscles. Syler’s hands invaded the folds of my robe and searched until discovering the elastic waistband of my warm (yet very non seductive) pajama pants.

  “Happy birthday,” he whispered when we broke for a breath of air.

  His big hands found their way inside my pants, evading the inconvenience of my panties and capturing my ass while I boldly grinded myself on the thick cock that taunted me inside his sweatpants. He rolled his hips hard. I moaned into his neck, thankful he’d located the presence of mind to shut the door. An early morning orgasm seemed like the perfect way to inaugurate my thirties. We’d leisurely make love some other time. Later. After I got off.

  Then Syler abruptly stopped what he was doing.

  He removed his warm hands. I felt like I’d just been slapped.

  “HEY!”

  And then the bastard grinned at me.

  “Let’s go have breakfast,” he said in a mild voice, grabbing my hand and intentionally ignoring both the titanic tent pole in his pants and my gasping protests.

  “You can’t do that,” I hissed, trying to yank him back.

  He turned back, all innocence. “What, I can’t kiss you good morning? Wish you happy birthday?” He shook his head in mock confusion. “You’ll have to go over the rules with me for this relationship, Katrina. I had no idea those things were off limits.”

  I pushed him against the nearest wall. He chuckled. He stopped chuckling when I reached down and began skillfully stroking him through his sweatpants. He sank his teeth into his lower lip, rolled his head back and groaned.

  I stretched up and licked his earlobe, continuing to torment him with my hand. “You like that?”

  “Oh, hell yeah.” He was breathing hard, urging me on.

  “Want me to use my mouth?”

  “Holy shit. Please.”

  “Thought you said breakfast was waiting.”

  “It can wait longer.”

  “Will you come on my tongue? I want to swallow you.”

  “Fuck, baby.”

  I smiled. And then I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I calmly released him, tied my robe and patted my messy bun to make sure it was intact.

  “Syler McKnight,” I said sweetly. “You have no idea how much I’m going to make you pay for teasing me before I’ve had a cup of coffee.”

  His dark eyes were tortured. “Any chance you can make me pay some other time?”

  “No.”

  “Freaking dying here, Katrina.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have started playing a game you can’t win.”

  He leaned forward, placed his palm on the wall and lowered his head. “I need a minute.”

  “Yeah you do.” I pointed. “Can’t face the family with that monster trying to stab through your pants.”

  He glared.

  I laughed.

  I opened the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

  “Katrina?”

  I turned, expecting something dirty. But the smile he gave me this time was tender. “Happy birthday, baby.”

  I blew him a kiss. I loved the way we were with each other.

  Gemma had cooked breakfast. That was no surprise. The surprising part was that both my parents were seated at the dining room in anticipation of my arrival.

  My mother launched into an immediate rendition of Happy Birthday, accompanied by three out of four of Gemma’s kids since Drew declared himself too cool for singing. I was relieved that she had not brought any chickens or goats with her. My father looked a bit grumpy about being dragged out at such an early hour but after the singing finished he stood up and wrapped me in a genuine hug. Annika joined the hug and if anyone else knows of a feeling that matches the comfort of being hugged by both of one’s parents at the same time then I’d sure like to know about it.<
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  Gemma presented me with a tower of pancakes that had been covered in whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Ryland, looking a little out of place in a straight backed chair, sat apart from everyone and observed.

  “Make a wish,” Gemma demanded after she lit the pink candle in the center of my cupcake tower. I was glad she decided on just one candle. Thirty candles would have shredded that poor pancake.

  I was poised to blow out the candle when I saw Syler coming downstairs. He stuffed his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie and leaned against the doorframe at the entrance to the dining room. My eyes found his and the small flutter in my chest progressed to rapid fire pounding when his lips tilted into a smile.

  I made my wish. I blew out the candle.

  After breakfast I was ordered to proceed to the living room to begin opening the stack of presents piled on the coffee table. The kids had wrapped up homemade gifts they’d lovingly created, each one a unique and wonderful masterpiece that I planned to treasure forever. Gemma had copied all of Gloria’s handwritten recipes and bound them into a book. Syler presented a rectangular box that had been wrapped with pink paper.

  I tore it open and stared at the object within.

  “You seemed to enjoy wearing it so much I figured I’d just give it to you,” he said by way of explanation.

  I pulled out the flannel shirt Syler had tied around my waist on the morning of his arrival. I held his shirt to my face and breathed in a musk of mint and aftershave.

  “Oh god, it even smells like you,” I declared, cuddling Syler’s shirt like it was my new pet.

  The ring of silence in the room brought me to my senses. I’d forgotten we weren’t alone. And that ravenously inhaling a man’s shirt might be construed as a weird thing to do. I lowered the shirt and began tidily folding it back into the box.

  People stared at me.

  Ryland. The children. Annika.

  At least my father was busy doing something on his phone and had noticed nothing amiss.

  Only Gemma looked amused. Strange, how she looked completely unsurprised by the fact that I was greedily rubbing my face all over her brother’s clothing.

  Gretel turned to her uncle. “Why did you give Aunt Katty your shirt?”

  “And why is she, like, smelling it?” Chloe wanted to know.

  Syler had no idea how to answer these questions. He sat there on the sofa like a hot, scruffy deer caught in the headlights.

  I decided to throw caution to the wind, or whatever the saying was. This was my birthday. I was owed a wish and there he was, sitting all alone and helplessly at a loss for words.

  I got to my feet, took three steps over to the sofa and promptly helped myself to Syler’s open lap. He grinned when I rested my hands on his shoulders and I felt the strong sanctuary of his arms surrounding me. I kissed him. I wasn’t all pornographic about it with the kids and my parents looking on. At least I kept my tongue to myself. But I kissed him on the mouth long and hard and it wasn’t the kind of kiss a girl gave out casually.

  “Wow,” said Gemma when we finally finished kissing.

  “Yuck,” said one of the kids.

  Another kid giggled.

  My mother clapped her hands like she’d just seen an excellent play.

  My father finally looked up from his phone and noticed I was sitting in a man’s lap. He scrutinized Syler. “Who are you again?”

  “Open mine next,” my mother urged, pushing a tiny box at me. It had to be jewelry, although Annika wasn’t typically a fan of jewelry.

  I decided I might as well remain in Syler’s lap. He seemed like he wasn’t about to let me go anyway.

  I opened my mother’s gift and was confused. “A key.”

  “I also called a lawyer and added you to the deed,” Annika said, so excited she was almost bouncing.

  “I’m the lawyer,” my father volunteered. “Katrina, you are now the owner of the stone house.”

  “What?” I was astonished, which was a proper reaction when someone hands you a house out of the blue.

  Annika couldn’t wait to explain. “I’ve been agonizing over selling it. That house feels like a member of the family. And this will give you options. That is, if you decide you’re moving back to Maple Springs like we talked about.”

  “You’re staying in Maple Springs?” Chloe squealed.

  “You are?” This time Gemma really was surprised.

  I hadn’t made that decision officially, not yet.

  Or had I? No, not out loud. Only in my heart.

  After all, what did I have waiting for me in Manhattan? No job, Bath Bomber hate and the prospect of Pretend Apocalypse.

  There was no contest. Maple Springs wins.

  Syler hadn’t said anything. He was looking at me with almost boyish hopefulness. This move wouldn’t be just because I was following him. Although the fact that he was also coming home made the decision feel all the more right. I was at an intersection in my life. And I intended to take the road most likely to lead to happiness. The road that led to home.

  I touched Syler’s cheek and gave him a soft kiss as an answer to his unasked question. Then I slid off his lap and went to my mother. She met my hug and stroked my hair and there’d never been a moment in my life when I felt more loved than I did right here in this room on this morning.

  “Thank you, Mommy,” I whispered even though I hadn’t called her that since I was tiny.

  My father had a surprise gift of his own. He’d already decided that my Maple Springs destiny was meant to be and so in anticipation of my new life he had ordered me a Cadillac Escalade to be delivered before New Year’s.

  Yes, I was a spoiled, spoiled girl.

  And yes, I reveled in it.

  But I was feeling like kind of a birthday scumbag in my pajamas so I dashed upstairs for a quick shower, dressed, and returned to find my mother on the couch reading Princess Snowball to the children. Gemma was fastidiously adjusting ornament placement on the sizeable Christmas tree. Meanwhile, over by the front bay windows my father was evidently grilling Syler on topics ranging from the job prospects in Maple Springs to the state of national politics. Syler appeared to be keeping pace admirably although the look he threw my way was that of a cornered animal.

  While debating on how best to rescue my boyfriend (SYLER MCKNIGHT… MY BOYFRIEND!) from the clutches of my domineering dad, I realized Ryland was nowhere in sight, although I figured he must be around here somewhere.

  All at once I realized what was missing in my life today. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked but was not shocked to see that other than a few happy birthday messages from New York City pals, there was nothing from my brother.

  I hoped Syler would forgive me for bailing while he tried to properly respond to my dad’s question on facial recognition technology. I had something to do in private.

  I expected the kitchen to be empty but it wasn’t. Ryland McKnight sat in one of the chairs at the small table, nursing a glass of water and looking out the window. He looked embarrassed to be caught.

  “How come you’re hiding out in here?” I asked him, dropping into the seat across from his.

  The question made him uncomfortable. “I wasn’t hiding. Well, not exactly. It just seemed like kind of a private gathering.”

  “It’s a family gathering. You’re part of the family.”

  Ryland gave me a shy smile. “I’m really happy for you and Sy. I was surprised. It always looked like you guys hated each other.”

  “A façade we cultivated carefully.”

  That drew some laughter out of him.

  “You didn’t have to stay at the Maple Springs Inn,” I said. “There’s room for you here. Gemma really wanted you to stay here.”

  “I know.” He picked up a dishtowel and began toying with it. It appeared that he was trying to origami the thing into a perfect triangle. “It just really hit me this time, how much of an outsider I am to my own family. Gemma learned long ago not to depend on me. Her kid
s hardly know who I am. As for Syler and me, we’ve never been more distant.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, Ryland.”

  He abandoned his dishtowel folding task and sighed. “I guess I always thought there’d be time. Later. After this or that project or dig or convention. It didn’t occur to me how quickly time eats away at life. Now I’m starting to realize how much I’ve missed.”

  “Gemma loves you. You’re her big brother, her hero. And those kids are so eager to know you. They want to love you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And Syler?”

  “You’re his brother. His only brother. He’ll give you a chance if you give him one.”

  Ryland gave those words some thought and finally nodded when he decided they made sense.

  I stood up and reached for a tin container filled with homemade snickerdoodles. “Do me a favor? Bring this out to the living room please?”

  “Sure.” He took the tin and opened the kitchen door. “You coming?”

  “In a minute.”

  I waited until Ryland was gone before once more withdrawing my phone from my back pocket. I calmed myself with a couple of deep breaths and made a call. I was unsurprised that voicemail picked up. At least he hadn’t blocked me.

  “Hey Pas,” I said. “It’s your big sister here. I just wanted to say something so I hope you’ll listen to the whole message. Look, I’m not mad that I haven’t heard from you. A little hurt, but not mad. I know the day will come when you’ll want to pick up the phone and talk to me. And you can. Always. I’ll answer. I’ll be here for you.” A tear rolled down my cheek and my voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you, little man. Merry Christmas.”

  I shouldn’t cry. This was a happy day. And Pas would come around someday. I had to believe that. But I allowed a few trapped tears to fall anyway. Sometimes they just needed to get out.

  Soft arms circled me from behind. I hadn’t heard the door open but she must have seen me walk in here and grown curious about what I was doing. My best friend hugged me tight until my tears ended and then she found a tissue so I could blow my nose because that’s what best friends did.