“Uh, oh,” said Alex and Peyton pretty much at the same time.
“What?” asked Ainsley.
“Cue the pregnancy test.” Alex laughed.
Bradley’s eyes opened wide, but then she shrugged. “We have been trying.”
“Are you ready? I expect gasps, hand-clapping, and even catcalls if you’re so inclined.” Alex said from behind a screened partition.
When she came out from behind the screen, no one made a single sound. Ainsley didn’t know about Peyton or Bradley, but she was too stunned to speak. She’d never seen a gown like the one Alex wore, or a more beautiful bride.
“Speechless? Is that how you’re going to play this?”
“You’re stunning,” Bradley finally whispered.
The dress was made of antique lace that looked as though Alex wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. It had long sleeves, a drop waist, and at the front, there were two slits that opened partway down Alex’s thighs.
She turned around, and Ainsley saw the gown dipped low in the back, and had the same slits as the front. Only a woman of Alex’s height and slight frame would be able to pull a dress like this off. As short as she was, Ainsley would look ridiculous in it.
“You’re going to bring him to his knees,” smiled Peyton. “But I have no doubt that’s what you’re going for.”
The door opened, and Alex ducked back behind the screen, only to come back around when she saw her mother and Ainsley’s walk in.
Both had the same reaction. They gasped first, cried, and then said things in their own native languages that no one else in the room understood. It wasn’t necessary, though. The looks on each of the women’s faces mirrored Ainsley, Peyton, and Bradley’s reaction moments ago.
“Is it time?” Alex asked.
“Si, mija,” Lucia answered, dabbing at her tears.
“May I have a moment?” Sorcha asked. Her mother was rarely at a loss for words, and it was rarer still for her to be quiet when she spoke. She, once again, found herself stunned. Sorcha looked around the room and waited until everyone left, including Ainsley who closed the door behind her. She was tempted to leave it open just a crack, to hear what her mother was saying to Alex, but she respected their privacy.
Soon, the door opened, and Alex stepped out, following Sorcha who led the way downstairs.
It wasn’t until they were standing at the bottom of the stairs that Alex, who had descended last with Lucia, turned around.
There, where her dress dipped right at her waist, Ainsley saw the gift her mother had given her.
Wearing a luckenbooth brooch was a Scottish wedding tradition, and Ainsley recognized the one Alex wore. It was made of gold, and the crown that sat above two intertwined hearts was encrusted with diamonds and rubies. This brooch had been given to Sorcha by Laird’s mother only moments before she married him.
The tradition was that it was given to the bride of the family’s oldest son right before she walked down the aisle. Ainsley didn’t know whether her mother had told Alex its significance, or if Peyton, Bradley, or Lucia knew; but she did, and it was impossible for her to keep her tears at bay.
If what she’d heard was true, about her older brother’s marriage, the brooch should’ve been given to Kade’s bride, except their family had known nothing about her. It made seeing Alex wearing it almost bittersweet.
Cris stood with Maddox and Naughton, who was the best man, and Brodie. It hadn’t dawned on her, until then, that he was the only one of Alex’s brothers Maddox asked to stand with him. She’d never known them to be close, and wondered if, maybe, either Alex or Maddox had known about their secret relationship; or if, like Brodie and Peyton’s baby, it had just been kismet.
He looked so handsome in the charcoal gray tuxedo, wearing an emerald green ascot that matched her dress. His gaze traveled up and down her body, letting her know he was equally appreciative of her wedding attire.
When Peyton took her place as matron of honor, the music being piped out onto the courtyard from the winery changed, and the door of the villa opened.
It wasn’t that Ainsley hadn’t seen her brother Maddox’s various expressions—he had the most expressive face of all her siblings, maybe of anyone she’d ever known—but the look she saw on his face when Alex came out the door on her mother’s arm, was one she’d never seen before.
Everyone deserved love, and a great love at that, but what he and Alex had between them was a grand passion worthy of the classics. The tragedy it could have been, if they hadn’t finally admitted their devotion to each other, would’ve been Shakespearean.
It was as though the two of them were made for one another, in temperament, humor, zest for life, and outright beauty.
The ceremony was traditional Presbyterian, until it came to the vows, which the minister said Alex and Maddox had written to one another. They were sanctified by God, he said, but they would remain private. Ainsley was disappointed, but only because she was curious, and at the same time, she was envious of a love so deep it only mattered what the other thought, no one else.
“May I have this dance, niña bonita.”
Ainsley put her hand in Cris’ and let him guide her around the makeshift dance floor set up in the winery.
“It was a beautiful wedding, don’t you agree?” she asked as she rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“Beautiful bridesmaid, definitely.”
“Your sister looks amazing, too.” Ainsley wondered if he knew she was pregnant, or if anyone did. There were probably several people here, tonight, who suspected it, since neither she nor Maddox had anything more than sparkling water to drink.
“Tomorrow is Christmas,” Cris murmured. “Our first together.”
In the past, they’d talked about telling their families they couldn’t leave Palo Alto for one reason or another, just so they could spend one Christmas morning together, but neither had been able to go through with it.
“I guess we should talk about what we’re going to do tomorrow, but…”
Cris pulled back so he could see her face, and then smiled. “We’re going to sleep as late as we want to, and then we’re going to take a walk on the beach, have breakfast—just the two of us—and then, in the afternoon, we’ll visit both of our families.”
“Cris…I…uh…um…”
“Didn’t get me anything for Christmas?”
She hadn’t, but how did he always know what she was thinking?
They’d been broken up, and then, after he came to the Kensey building last weekend, they’d only been apart when he was working, or she was teaching, or finishing up her paperwork for the semester. She’d tried a couple of times to get something for him online, but nothing seemed adequate enough.
“I hope you didn’t get anything for me…”
“Just something little, Ains.” He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. “You gave me the thing I wanted most already. The only thing I wanted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. What did I overhear Maddox say a couple of days ago? It’s over. Let’s move on.”
When the song ended, Cris led Ainsley over to where Alex and Maddox stood talking with Peyton and Brodie, who had Kismet in his arms.
“She’s so beautiful, Brodie.” Ainsley kissed the baby’s head.
“I’d let you hold her, but you have two people in line ahead of you.”
Ainsley looked over to see Jamison and Finn waiting patiently.
“Who won the toss?”
“I did!” Finn raised his hand in the air.
“Because you cheated.”
“Did not.”
Jamison shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Even if I got to hold her first, you’d just be bugging me every five seconds for your turn anyway.”
“I doubt any of you ever argued over holding me.” Ainsley nudged Brodie, who shook his head, and then sat next to Finn, making sure he cradled his sister’s head and held her tight, but not too tight.
She
leaned back, thinking it was Cris standing behind her, but Maddox rested his hands on her shoulders. She peeked at the ring on his left hand, and then turned around to see that Cris was dancing with Alex.
“I like your ring.”
“Scottish thistle.”
“Yes, Mad. I know.” She rolled her eyes.
“Have you seen Al’s ring?”
She had, and until Alex pulled her aside to show it off, Ainsley hadn’t realized that the first time Alex saw it, was when he slipped it on her finger during the ceremony.
“I can’t believe you chose the same thing for each other, with neither of you knowing it.”
Alex’s ring had a Scottish thistle design as well, but far more elaborate than Mad’s. Hers was made of platinum, with one large diamond in the center and several smaller ones all around the band.
“You know why we never fought over holding you?” he asked.
“I was just joking, Maddox.”
“I’m not. It’s because Kade was always first. He’d spend hours, sitting on the front porch, rocking you to sleep. Even after you’d closed your eyes, he’d still hold you. Ma would scold him, saying that you’d never go to sleep on your own if he held you so much, but he ignored her.”
“He ignored Ma? You had me convinced until you added that, Maddox. Tell me the truth, did Kade even hold me once?”
“It’s true, lass,” said their mother, who Ainsley hadn’t realized was in hearing distance.
“I miss him so much.”
“We all do.”
Right after Maddox asked their mother to dance, Naughton joined her.
He tweaked her cheek. “You look about a million times better than you did at the last wedding.”
“Thanks, Naught. I appreciate the compliment so much.”
“I heard you and Mad talking about Kade. I remember him holding you all the time.”
“I bet you weren’t second in line.”
Ainsley caught the flash of hurt on Naughton’s face. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny.”
“I guess, you owed me one since I just told you, you looked like shit at Brodie’s wedding.”
She slugged him. “You’re hysterical, Naughton.”
She watched as Brodie helped Finn hand the baby to Jamison. “It’s so sad, though, isn’t it?”
“What’s that, Ains?”
“Do you think Kade knew his daughter?”
“I don’t have any idea. It doesn’t sound like Quinn knew him, but I could be wrong. All I know for sure is she didn’t know he was her father until recently.”
“I hope you hear from her soon.”
He nodded, but didn’t look like he agreed.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I want to know anything more.”
Ainsley nodded. Part of her agreed. Whenever she thought about the story Naughton told her about Kade’s daughter, she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe there were some things that were better left unknown. After all, how much hurt might it cause her, her siblings, and her parents, if they knew the truth?
13
When they pulled into the driveway after Mad and Alex’s wedding, Ainsley noticed a tree, decorated and lit, in the front window.
“Isn’t that sweet? With everything going on, she still got a Christmas tree. Wow.”
Cris smiled and nodded, but once they were inside, she realized her mistake. Alex hadn’t gotten a tree, Cris had, and somehow, he’d managed to sneak a box of decorations here with him.
They’d always decorated a tree, much like this one, and celebrated a makeshift Christmas with just the two of them before they both went home to their families.
After she’d taken off her bridesmaid dress and Cris, his tux, they sat by the tree, wrapped in a blanket. It didn’t feel much different than those other Christmases, except this year, they wouldn’t go their separate ways tomorrow. For the first time in six years, they’d celebrate the holiday together. Her only regret, tonight, was that she didn’t have anything for him to open tomorrow morning.
“I love you, Ainsley,” Cris said, as though he read her thoughts.
“Cris, I…”
“Love me, too? Is that what you were about to say?” He leaned forward and ran his tongue along her lower lip. “That’s all I want for Christmas, mi amor.” He kissed her again and eased her onto her back. “Actually, I did think of something else I want.”
It was close to five in the morning when something startled Ainsley awake. She thought she’d heard a noise, but Cris hadn’t budged, so maybe she’d been dreaming.
She stretched, slid out of bed, and found one of Alex’s robes hanging on the back of the bedroom door. She padded to the bathroom, but noticed the Christmas tree lights were still on. She could’ve sworn Cris had turned them off before they’d gone into the bedroom, but maybe they were on a timer.
Instead of going back to sleep, Ainsley crept into Alex’s kitchen in search of something to make coffee, or maybe even breakfast.
In the third cupboard she opened, she found coffee as well as a French press and a copper kettle to heat water in. She studied the kettle while she filled it; something about it looked familiar. Maybe her parents had one like it. She turned around to put it on the stove, and almost screamed when she saw someone standing outside the back door.
“Da? What are you doing here?” she whispered when he put his finger to his lips, shushing her. “Come in.”
“Just for a minute.” He brushed past her and set a box on the counter. “I was supposed to give this to you last night, and I forgot. Your ma saw it this morning and insisted I drive it over here.”
Her mother had always gotten up long before dawn—probably the result of being married to a vineyard owner for so many years.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, Ainsley. It’s for you, but it’s heavy.”
He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas, my beloved child.”
“Merry Christmas, Da. Please, tell Ma we’ll be over later.”
The kettle started to hum, and Ainsley raced over to turn the heat off before it whistled and woke Cris. When she turned back around, her father was gone.
She peeked inside the box and saw a wrapped present and an envelope. When she saw her name written on the front, she pulled it out of the box and set it on the counter. She tried to lift the present, but it was too heavy, so she tilted the outer box instead and slid it onto the counter. The tag read, “Cristobal,” in handwriting similar to her own. She and her mother had almost identical handwriting, so she assumed it was a gift for him from her parents. At least he’d have one gift to open this morning, even if it wasn’t from her.
“What’s this? Did I miss Santa?” Cris came walking down the hallway, bare-chested, hair disheveled, his pajama bottoms hanging loosely on his hips, and looking like the sexiest man on the planet.
All her life she’d loved Cristobal Avila, from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. She’d been a little girl then, but somehow, she knew that one day, he’d love her, too. It’s why she’d only applied to Stanford, and why she never gave up on him, even when he’d acted as though he wasn’t even interested in being her friend.
They’d talked about it many times, and she still found it hard to believe that he’d secretly wanted her, too, from the day he first saw her sitting in the quad. It was only the idea that she was too young for him that had kept him from acting on her magnetic pull.
“I felt the same pull from you,” she’d told him then. “It’s the same way I described it.” To think she’d almost lost him.
Cris cupped her cheek with his palm. “What is it, precious?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Tell me,” he coaxed.
“I’m just really happy we’re together.”
He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured before touching her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her and cup
ped her bottom with his hands, drawing her closer to him.
“Why are we up so early?” he murmured.
“My father…” she nuzzled into him, and Cris pulled back.
“Your father?”
She laughed at the stunned look on Cris’ face. “He was here. But now he’s gone.”
“He was here?”
“He forgot to give me this last night.” She motioned toward the box on the counter. “That one is for you,” she said, pointing to the package. “I’m sorry to tell you it isn’t from me.”
“Who is it from?”
“My parents, I think, but it’s odd that they wouldn’t just give it to you later. They know we’re coming over.”
Cris walked over to the box and reached inside. “There’s something else in here.” He pulled out another envelope.
“Who’s that for?” she asked.
Cris turned it over. “It doesn’t say.”
Ainsley shook her head. “Odd.”
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Cris walked back down the hallway, Ainsley assumed to use the bathroom. She went into the kitchen to finish making coffee.
When he returned, Ainsley was disappointed to see he had put on a Stanford hoodie, and his hands were in the front pocket.
“Are you cold? We could light a fire.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” Cris put two logs into Alex’s fireplace, tossed some newspaper in, and lit it. “Do I smell coffee?”
“It’ll be ready in a few minutes. I was thinking about making breakfast, but I don’t know if Alex has much…”
Ainsley stopped talking when she opened the refrigerator door and found orange juice, eggs, fresh vegetables, and bacon. She turned and smiled. “You?”
Cris nodded and smiled, too.
Side by side, they made omelets and bacon. Cris told her he’d also picked up a loaf of fresh sourdough bread, so she made toast. Every so often, the envelope with her name on the front caught her eye, and she wondered what was inside. Finally, she picked it up and set it, and the other one, on the branches of the Christmas tree.
“Should I move this too?” Cris asked, not waiting for her to answer before picking up the package. “Whoa. This is heavy.” He set it at the base of the tree. “What’s in it?”
The Gift Page 10