Page 134 of Theirs for the Holidays

I nod, dropping my gaze a little. “Yeah. I’m going to try, anyway.” That’s all I can do. Tempting as it is to give up and hide from it all, I know I can’t do that. Then Isabelle really would be winning.

“You’re not alone in this either. Remember that for me, okay? For all of us. We have your back, and we always will. We’ll help you.” He says it sincerely, staring down at me like he wants me to really hear what he’s saying.

I manage a small, but genuine smile. “That means a lot to me,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He dips his head, brushing his lips over mine lightly at first, and then with more intent. I lean up, kissing him back because it always feels so good. One warm hand cups the small of my back, and he pulls me in a little closer to his body, deepening the kiss just a little.

When we separate, he doesn’t go far. He keeps looking down at me, our eye contact charged. There’s so much feeling in his eyes. There’s a playful little smile on his face, but his eyes hold a whole depth of emotion.

It makes me wonder what he sees when he looks at me.

“Sawyer?”

“Hm?” He tips his head to one side, still gazing at me.

“I just…”

Part of me wants to ask him if this is real. If the things I’m seeing and feeling aren’t a lie anymore and if it’s the same for him. But honestly, I’m too scared to find out the answer.

“Never mind,” I say. “We should hurry up.”

If the answer is no after all of this, I think it might break me. My heart is so wrapped up in these men, and with everything else in my life in such a state of chaos and turmoil and loss, hearing that they’re still playing a game and doing all of this for the sake of the lie would hurt too much for me to deal with right now.

I can’t face it.

Lennox and Rhett come in, breaking into the moment.

“You look gorgeous,” Lennox says, smiling at me. He and Rhett are both dressed up as well, both of them looking classic and handsome in their suits. Lennox has that hot executive vibe going on, and Rhett fills out his suit jacket in a way that makes my mouth water a little.

“You do,” Rhett agrees. “But it’s going to be wasted on this shit show.”

“Rhett,” I sigh.

“You shouldn’t go,” he says for what has to be the fifth time today. “She doesn’t deserve to have your support. Maybe people will think something’s wrong with her if she can’t even have her own sister there tonight.”

“That’s not how it will go,” I explain again. “She’ll spin it into me being jealous or something. And my mom will back her up to save face. Everyone will think I’m still pining over Andrew or that I’m just a bad sister. I don’t want everyone to hate me over this, and I don’t want Isabelle to think she’s won.”

Rhett goes to say something else, but Lennox puts a hand on his shoulder. “We understand,” he says. “And we should get going. We’re already going to make a scene walking in together, and it’ll be worse if we’re late.”

“Good,” Rhett mutters darkly, but he follows the rest of us out so we can drive over.

We get there in plenty of time, and I take a deep breath, plastering a hopefully convincing smile on my face as we walk in.

My mother is already holding court, and I give her a wide berth, not wanting to get into some argument or tense discussion with her tonight. My dad is standing nearby, holding her wine glass, and I bypass him too.

One of the bridesmaids, one of Isabelle’s friends from college, comes over to me, all smiles. “Violet,” she says. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” I say, trying to remember if she’s Anabelle or Tiffany. Most of Isabelle’s bridesmaids look alike in that beautiful blonde way, and in fancy dresses and heavy make-up, they’re even harder to keep straight.

“And these must be your men,” she practically purrs, looking at all three of the guys in turn. “Anabelle Hamilton.” She holds her hand out, like she’s expecting them to kiss the back of it, but they just take turns shaking her hand instead. All but Rhett, who gestures at his splinted wrist and shrugs.

“You know, I didn’t believe it when Isabelle told us that you had gone and shacked up with Andrew’s brothers, but here you are.”

It’s hard to tell if she’s judging me or if she’s jealous, so I just try to keep smiling and nod. “‘Shacked up’ isn’t what I’d call it, but yeah. We’ve known each other for a long time now.”

“Potato, potahto,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s stillveryimpressive.”

I can see Isabelle looking in our direction with a frown on her face, so I cut the conversation short and keep mingling. There are so many people to talk to, and most of them want to talk to or about the guys. I remind myself that they have family here too, so it makes sense for them to have to mingle as well, but it’s nice that they keep an eye on me and try to stick close.