"Do you like it?" he asks uncertainly, a sweet shyness creeping over his features, and my mouth snaps closed.
"Are you kidding me? I freaking love it." I hug the purse to my chest, my cheeks reddening at my emotional outburst over a bag. He probably buys these for every woman he dates. Not that we're dating. But still.
He smiles then, his whole face transforming. "Good." He says, as if the whole thing is settled and turns back to flipping French toast.
“How’d you even find this in our town?” I ask, wondering when he slipped out to buy the purse.
“I had it delivered this morning,” he explains, as if everyone has designer items hand delivered on Christmas day.
Staring at his back, I shake my head and continue to watch him in awe.
What does this mean?
The rest of my family eventually makes their way into the kitchen for breakfast. Denver joins Finn at the stove and they joke together, plating French toast and waffles. Evie assembles a fruit bowl while Taylor creates Christmas-themed mimosas. Then, we all sit around the large table and dig into breakfast, Kane-family, Christmas style.
The house smells like pine and fresh baked goods, the atmosphere is festive and casual, and as I look around the table at everyone, I can only wish this was my new normal. My brothers' relationships are the real deal, and I'm grateful to have acquired three new sisters. As my gaze lingers on Finn, I wish he was going to become a permanent fixture at our holiday celebrations, but the pang in my chest reminds me that's never going to happen.
This is a one-time thing, and he's here because of Sierra, not me.
But then why did he buy me the purse? Maybe he bought one for Sierra, too?
I fiddle with my napkin. Jax bumps my shoulder playfully and narrows his gaze at me, his eyes dropping to my untouched plate.
"I already had a few pieces of French toast," I tell him honestly, even though that has nothing to do with my inability to consume more sugary-sweetness.
"Okay.” He sounds unconvinced as he wolfs down half a slice in one bite.
"We have an announcement," Denver calls out.
"Uh-oh. Another one?" Evie jokes and Den chuckles, the sound warm and welcome, and catching some of us by surprise.
Sierra beams, her gaze catching mine as her smile widens. “We have a wedding date. And a venue!”
"What! When?" Taylor exclaims, leaning forward in her chair to clasp Sierra's wrist.
"February twenty-second," Denver clarifies.
"Oh, my God. That's so soon!" Taylor squeals, clapping her hands. "I love weddings. I can help with anything and everything you need."
"Thank you." Sierra nods, her face serious. "I'm going to need it."
"This one will have you covered," Carter agrees, pulling Taylor into a half-hug and kissing the top of her head while she chews a strawberry, her face deep in thought.
"I'll call Fabio. We can start there," she murmurs to herself and we all laugh.
Getting up from my chair, I walk around the table to throw my arms around Sierra and Denver. "You'll be my maid of honor, right?" Sierra asks, peering up at me, her eyes shimmering with emotion.
“I’d be honored to.” My hand settles over my chest as emotions steamroll me. We stare at each other for a long moment, both of us wearing goofy grins until Denver interrupts.
"No more crying."
"Shut it," I mutter, leaning closer to Sierra for one last hug before Jax pushes me out of the way to hug our future sister-in-law.
When I look up, Finn's blue eyes slam into mine. His gaze is curious, studying me. He tilts his head to the left, scraping his hand over his clean-shaven jaw as he regards me. I turn away from him, my knuckle catching the tear about to escape and trail down my cheek. I don't know why, but I don't want Finn to see me struggling to control my emotions.
We're going to be working together, I remind myself for the millionth time.
But when I turn back to the table, his eyes are still caught on me, and my heart rate gallops at the extra attention. Because let's be real, as much as I don't want Finn to see me weeping over happy news, I do want him to see me as something. Something more.
Chapter 6
Christmas is one of my favorite days of the year. It's all sparkle and shimmer and presents and family. Tucked into the corner of the couch under a throw blanket, I laugh and clap along with my brothers as they sing Christmas carols to their ladies and joke around with each other. It's been way too long since we've all been together like this, with everything between us easy and fun. Evie's trial date is coming up, and Denver's in the middle of trying to clear his legal record, but for this one moment, for today, it's like none of that matters because we're all caught up in the now.
And I love it.
Finn stands back, taking in the scene around him, and I sense the longing, the flicker of uncertainty shadowing his face from time to time. I hope he doesn't feel like a bystander as he takes in the Kane family antics. Every few moments, his eyes cut to me, and the unveiled hunger I see swirling in the depths of his eyes causes my heart to soar and my stomach to dip.
Why is he looking at me like that? What does he want?
The fourth time his eyes meet mine, he licks his lips, and I nearly groan at the visual.
"Drink up." Taylor hands me a cocktail. "It has champagne in it."
"Of course it does.” I take the glass from her hand and drink a large gulp. "It's really good. You may have missed your calling in life."
She snorts next to me, her eyes darting to Finn. "He's into you, babe. I'm telling you."
Instead of replying, I take another gulp of the bubbly goodness. Taylor is pulled into more wedding conversation with Sierra, so I continue to watch the scene unfolding around me.
As the day drags on, the drinks flow freely. Taylor has a broad sketch of what Sierra and Denver's wedding will look like, Sierra's bachelorette party is nearly finalized, and they've moved onto bridesmaid dresses. Sweetly enough, Sierra also asked Evie and Taylor to be bridesmaids, and I already know this wedding is going to be one of my favorite lifetime events.
How could it not be?
Denver's stoic expression keeps melting off his face, and soon he's forgotten how to be surly and grumpy. Instead, he's just relaxed, his expression open, his smile wide each time he looks at his pregnant, soon-to-be-wife.
Something deep inside aches as I watch the faces of my brothers as they snag on their women.
Will someone ever look at me like that?
Could it ever be Finn?
Eyeing him surreptitiously, I inhale sharply as he makes his way toward me. He drops down next to me on the couch, his thigh pressed against mine.
"Are you having fun?" His voice is low and deep, causing shivers to skate over my skin.
"Yes. Are you?" I try to keep my voice light, but he must hear something in my tone because he leans closer, his fingertips brushing across my wrist.
"You seem sad, somehow. Is everything all right?"
I flash a broad smile, unsure if it meets my eyes when I fib, "Everything's great."
"Daisy," he breathes out, his expression momentarily pained as he swipes the inside of my wrist again. Heaving a sigh, he drops his head and removes his hand from my lap.
"I'm going to grab a water," I say, after a moment of awkward silence. Standing from the couch, I make my way into the kitchen, letting out a deep breath as I try to calm my racing nerves.
What was that all about?
"Daisy." His deep voice sounds out, and I feel him the moment he steps into the kitchen. All the air seems to shrink and expand around us simultaneously. My body is hyper aware of every step he takes, the back of my neck prickling under his intense scrutiny. "Please."
"Please, what?" I whisper, too nervous to turn around and desperate to read his face at the same time.
He stands completely still behind me, his body ghosting mine. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck and his hands as they press lightly into my hips.
"Me either," I confess, finally turning in his arms until our faces are only inches apart.
He breathes in a ragged breath as I try to slow the gallop of my heart. A moment of relief flickers through me as I take in his tortured eyes, the pained expression fanning over his face. I affect him. On some level, I affect him. My heart cheers at the realization.
"We can't—"
"I know," I say, shuffling back half a step.
The movement seems to piss him off. His eyes darken and his lips twist into a frown as I try to step away from him. "Not yet." His voice is so low I barely make out the words.
And then he's advancing on me, backing me into a corner of the kitchen. His hands are on my hips, and the arc of his mouth descends toward my lips. I breathe in, the sound a mixture of uncertainty and relief. Then his lips are on mine, not gentle like the first kiss, but demanding, hungry, devastating.
His hands twist in my hair the moment our lips touch, lighting me up like a firecracker. I feel him everywhere, heart beat sprinting in my chest, my nerves dancing throughout my limbs. His mouth is warm and inviting as his tongue swipes across the seam of my lips. My lips part immediately, and as our tongues touch, I literally moan.
Too caught up to be embarrassed, to care that one of my brothers could walk in at any moment, I’m excited when the sound alone causes him to step closer, pinning me against the kitchen wall. His hand tugs the hair at the base of my neck, causing my head to tilt back farther, giving him more access to slant his mouth over mine, to press his body closer.
My eyes are closed, my hands shadowing his broad shoulders and the hard planes of his back. My fingers hook on his belt. The movement causes him to shift but not stop, and I tug him even closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against me. In the background, I hear Christmas carols and lively chatter. I know we can be caught at any moment, but I'm too lost in him to care.
Finn rips his mouth away from mine and places his forearm against the wall above my head. He's panting, his breathing erratic, and his blue eyes wild as they scan my face. A small smile flickers over my lips, relief flooding my limbs at the confirmation that I make him just as crazy as he makes me.
"Daisy." My name sounds like a plea, a curse, and a pardon all at once. "Jesus, Daisy."
The emotions in his eyes are at war, a constant swirl of desire, hope, uncertainty, frustration, anger, and then...a decisiveness that's slightly too cool to mean what I want it to mean.
"We can't do this." His voice is low and thick and washes over my skin like a cold bucket of water. I tense up at his words and try to shuffle back, until I realize I'm flush against the wall, and there's nowhere to go.
I look down, avoiding his eyes as he sighs in front of me. His fingers find my chin, forcing me to gaze up, to face him.
"It was wrong of me; I shouldn't have done that," he says by way of apology, and I feel my skin flame in response.
Wrong of him? Why?
He watches me, his blue eyes a surging storm of emotion, too many feelings for me to focus on just one.
I swallow hard and nod, a million thoughts racing through my mind. In any other situation, with any other guy, I would open my mouth and demand more of an explanation. I would voice the thoughts I’m trying to process. I would react. But as embarrassment floods my body and feelings of inadequacy swell in my chest, I attempt a half-hearted smile instead. "Of course. It won't happen again," I say, my voice quiet but even. Smoothing my hands down over my shirt and jeans, I steady myself. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I offer him one last glance before stepping around him. "Excuse me," I say politely, walking with my head held high.
Until I disappear into my bedroom. With the door locked and my back pressed against it, I let the tears come.
A soft knock at my bedroom door has me tensing up, wiping the backs of my hands across my eyes, and raking my fingers through my hair.
Shoot. I totally look like I've been crying. Not going to fool anyone in this moment.
"Who is it?" I call out, wincing as my voice sounds strangled to my own ears.
"Me," Sierra answers.
I snort, an unattractive sound, considering how stuffy my nose is. Still, relief trails through my body that it's not one of my brothers. In fact, I’m glad it’s Sierra. I’ve been wanting to tell her for days that I’m hardcore crushing on Finn but she’s been so busy with wedding planning that we’ve barely had time to talk just the two of us. Right now, she’s the only person I'd want to see me falling apart over a kiss gone awry.
Pulling open my bedroom door, the gentle expression on her face morphs into anger when she sees my tears.
"Dais." She steps forward, pulling me into a hug. The comfort she offers causes another round of tears to swell in my eyes. "It's okay," she murmurs, patting my back.
"You don't even know why I'm crying." I laugh into her shoulder, as I shut the bedroom door closed behind us.
"Because you're into Finn, and he's giving you mixed signals," she responds.
I shuffle back, narrowing my gaze at her. “You know?"
She rolls her eyes, a small huff escaping her lips as if I've insulted her. "Please. You both are so obvious."
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about Finn for days but I’ve barely seen you.” I admit, laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation. Sliding back to my seat on the floor, Sierra lowers herself next to me and drops her head to my shoulder.
"I’m sorry things have been so busy with wedding planning and we haven’t had much time together. But, trust me, Finn’s into you," she says with a confidence I don't feel.
I pick at the chipping nail polish on my thumbnail, refusing to say anything since there's nothing to say.
"He's just scared," she continues, which has me turning my head to try and see her face.
"Scared?"
She nods, straightening up to look at me. "You're going to be working together. You're moving to Scotland. You're you."
"What's that mean?"
"Don't get defensive. I mean it in a good way. You're you, not some random girl he ran into at a pub and had a one-night thing with. He can't do a one-night thing with you and he knows it. You're too good, to important to our family and to him, for that. Plus, you're my best friend, and you're going to be working at the same office as him. He'd be an idiot to mess around with you if he wasn't a hundred percent sure."
"So, you think he's not sure of me?" I ask, the defensive edge still hugging my words, even though everything Sierra's saying makes sense.
"How could he be sure of you? He barely knows you. And everything he does know about you paints you as the opposite of the type of girls he usually goes for."
"You're not helping," I mutter.
Sierra chuckles, swatting my knee. “He normally dates flighty airheads. Not intelligent, career-driven, serious women with their own futures mapped out. He dates, and I use that term so, so loosely, women who have the pretense of having a one-night thing, a casual hook-up, but they're desperately hoping it will turn into more, so they can marry well and enjoy their lifestyles."
"That's a bit of a generalization, don't you think?" I chew my bottom lip as I consider Sierra's words. So, basically, he dates beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous women who are capable of meandering their lives on their looks alone. The thought depresses me.
"If the shoe fits." Sierra shrugs. "Trust me, Dais, I know my cousin. He's into you, but he's not going to act on it just yet. It's too soon, too fresh. And he's still working through all the reasons why he can't date you."
"The reasons being?"
"You're new job. You’re moving to Edinburgh. You’re status as my BFF.” She ticks off the reasons on her fingers. “Whatever is between you guys is complicated and it's going to take time to work through."
I bang my head lightly against the bedroom door behind me. "I guess so," I agree, both annoyed and
soothed that her words make so much sense. I suppose not all hope is lost. But still, I wanted this Christmas to be different, to be special, to feel like more than all the days leading up to it have felt like. This hasn't been an easy six months for me and just when it feels like I'm taking strides forward, it also seems like I'm completely lost at sea.
I really wanted my Christmas wish to come true. Pressing my fingertips against my lips, I suppose it did. Finn gave me another scorching kiss. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wishing for more.
"What do I do now?" I ask my best friend, turning to look at her.
She grins. "You do you."
"What's that mean?"
"Forget Finn. Forget all guys. Dais, focus on yourself. You're moving, starting a new job, having an exciting new adventure. Think about yourself and all the things that you want to do, to see, to experience. And I promise you, if things with Finn are meant to be, they will be. But in the meantime, don't put your life on hold for a guy that can't figure his out fast enough. It's not worth it, and you deserve better."
"You do know he's your cousin, right?" I remind her, laughing at her sound reasoning.
She nods, her expression serious. "Yeah. But you're my sister."
I smile at her words and drop my head to her shoulder. "Thanks for coming to check on me."
"Thanks for being my best friend."
"Always."
After my chat with Sierra, I feel better, lighter, more in control of my emotions. Following Sierra downstairs, we rejoin the party. With the exception of a knowing glance from Taylor, a sympathetic smile from Evie, and a few concerned looks from my brothers, the awkwardness passes quickly and before long, I'm pulled back into the festivities of the holiday.
I refuse to look at Finn, at least directly. That doesn't mean my eyes don't wander over him from time to time, but he keeps his distance. He has a long conversation with Evie by the Christmas tree, jokes around with Carter, and teases Sierra relentlessly. He's charming and polite, easy-going and laid-back. He acts like nothing is wrong, like he doesn't have a care in the world.
'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 45