Page 33 of Theirs for the Holidays

Every part of me is attuned to him, like I’m quivering on the edge ofsomething, just from this.

We don’t break eye contact, and we could have been standing there for a minute or an hour for all I know. It takes Andrew clearing his throat—clearly annoyed—to get me back to Earth.

“Are you finished? Can we get back to what we came here to do?” he asks. “Some of us are on a deadline for our wedding.”

Sawyer acts completely nonchalant as he takes my hand and leads me back over to the others, as if he didn’t almost make me come by feeding me a damned cupcake.

“Sorry, little brother,” he says, offering Andrew an easy smile. “Got a little carried away. You know how it is.”

Andrew looks like he very much does not know how it is, but he doesn’t want to address it, obviously. We go back to the tasting, Isabelle and Andrew giving their thoughts to each other and me answering their questions about flavorings and ingredients and whatever else.

The heat is still there, simmering in my belly, but as time passes, it starts to turn from heat into something else. It starts to ache, and I make a face, trying to ignore it and focus. I shift a little in my seat as the tasting continues, trying to find some position that eases the building ache, but it’s not working.

“The carrot cake was the best, in my opinion,” Isabelle says at one point. “And I think that would work with all the other stuff we’re having. But the gingerbread is more Christmassy. What do you think, Violet?”

I open my mouth to tell her that it’s her wedding and her decision, but before I can speak, the ache suddenly explodes into a sharp, shooting pain that cuts through my lower belly.

Whatever I was about to say comes out as a groan instead. I hiss out a breath and double over, clutching at my stomach as another stab of pain shoots through me.

Lennox is in front of me almost immediately, his hands running over me. “Shit. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together.Fuck, not now.

Andrew heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Are you serious right now? We asked you to come here to be helpful, Violet. Not to be dramatic.”

“She’s hurt,” Lennox snaps at his brother. “Give it a rest.”

I grit my teeth past the pain, trying to wave Lennox off. “No, I’m—I’m fine. It’s just bad cramps. I… thought I had a few more days. I’ll be okay.”

My period doesn’t usually come this early. Ihavebeen stressed lately, with the wedding and all of the holiday stuff at the bakery, so maybe it’s got my hormones out of whack. But if I’d known it was going to start today, I would’ve prepared a lot better. Honestly, I probably would’ve told Isabelle and Andrew that I couldn’t come to the tasting. I’m not usually fit for human company during the first bit of my period.

Lennox shakes his head, not convinced. “No, you won’t be okay. You can barely sit up. I’m taking you home.”

He gets to his feet and scoops me up out of the chair and into his arms. My eyes go wide, and I shake my head immediately even as I cling to him for stability.

“You can’t carry me,” I manage to gasp out. “I’m too?—”

“You’d damn well better not be about to say you’re too heavy.” He tilts his head to look down at me, cocking one eyebrow. “I could lift two of you, Heartbreaker. Trust me, I’ve got you.”

With that, he starts to carry me to the door. He must not have been lying, because I don’t feel any strain in his arms, and he walks as if he’s carrying nothing. Rhett and Sawyer are right behind us, and all four of us leave the bakery, leaving Andrew and Isabelle sitting at the table staring after us.

12

LENNOX

I getViolet to the car, trying to focus. But it’s easier said than done when I can feel the softness of her body against mine and her scent is flooding my nose. Even in pain she’s beautiful, and my senses are attuned to her.

She’s biting her lip hard enough that I worry she’s going to make it bleed, and her face is screwed up in a grimace of pain. It’s clear she’s really hurting, and seeing her like this almost makes me feel pain. It sucks, knowing she’s going through this and there’s not much I can do other than carry her to the car.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmur to her, firming my grip. “It’ll be alright.”

“Yeah,” Rhett says, leaning in closer. “We’ve got you, okay?”

Violet nods, and I shoot Rhett a look. For once, not angry or annoyed, more glad that we’re on the same page.

I drove us to the bakery, and my car is bigger than Violet’s so I get her into it, laying her across the back seat as gently as I can.

“Can I have your keys?” I ask her.