Liam reached over, plucking Charlie from Jaxon’s arms. “Stop hogging the baby.”
Natalie laughed, her eyes full of adoration for her brother-in-law. “Charlie has her Uncle Liam wrapped around her little finger.”
Amy called out from the stove, where she stirred something hot. “Someone better tell that girl I won’t be cooking forever, and I’ll want my husband back.”
Liam walked up next to his wife, kissing her temple while she worked. “Now, now, sweetheart. There’s more than enough of me to go around.”
Everyone chuckled, a testament to the relaxed nature of the gathering. Lucy’s family and mine were so formal, stuffy almost. It was refreshing to see that there was a softer side to some families. I could see why Liam had been so reluctant to return home after his time spent away.
Natalie dragged me around to every person in the room, introducing me to her new in-laws, a few of Jaxon’s teammates—I learned quickly that they played ice hockey—and the rest of her children.
The kids, at least the three older ones, were the future of my country. It brought a smile to my face to see that they were living a happy, carefree childhood. The oldest, Amelia, was eleven and helped her aunts in the kitchen. Jameson, my future King, was ten, and his blond mop of curls bounced as he tore through the kitchen, snagging the occasional snack from the kitchen island. Beau was the youngest of the royal children and was only five. What struck me most about him was that he seemed to be Jaxon’s shadow—where Jaxon went, so did Beau.
Lucy ignored me as she worked alongside Amy in the kitchen, preparing what promised to be quite the feast for dinner. Truth be told, I didn’t mind it. Sitting at the huge kitchen island, I watched her work for a while. Seeing her outside of her natural habitat was slightly jarring.
Not only was I shocked she knew how to cook, but she also looked different. Her jet-black hair was held back and off her neck by some kind of clip, with pieces falling out every time she moved her head. The cream cashmere sweater hanging offone shoulder was one I recognized from our little shopping adventure, but as my perusal moved lower, I was surprised to see her wearing a pair of skinny jeans, her feet bare on the kitchen hardwood.
Those feet transfixed me as she went up on her tiptoes to reach certain shelves. When she was stationary, I smiled to myself as she absentmindedly moved them into ballet positions—no doubt the result of muscle memory after many years of classes. Most unsettling of all was that I could recall with vivid clarity how delicate those ankles felt in my hands as I wrapped the cuffs of the spreader bar around them.
Okay, time to focus your attention elsewhere before you embarrass yourself.
Looking around the room, a different set of blue eyes caught my attention. These were attached to a brunette at the kitchen table, chopping various vegetables. Shifting in my seat, her gaze was so blistering it felt like I was being skinned alive.
Feeling slightly threatened, I kept my eyes on her as I leaned to my right, nudging Jaxon’s teammate. The big one—Cal, I think his name was. “Who is the one at the table that looks like she wants the floor to open up and swallow me whole?”
Glancing over, Cal scoffed. “Oh, that’s Hannah. It’s probably meant for me. Don’t worry about it.”
Turning away from Hannah, I said low enough that she couldn’t overhear, “What’d you do?”
Rolling his eyes, he shrugged. “Today? Could be anything, really. My very existence pisses her off.”
Interesting. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with a female adversary in this group. Cal was vague enough that I wasn’t sure if the pair were involved or not—for all I knew, they were in the middle of a lover’s spat. For his sake, I hoped his situation was better than mine.
I was stuffed.
I didn’t think I’d ever eaten this much in my life. No wonder the Americans only did this once a year. Not only was it a ton of work to make the feast that this holiday demanded, but it was more food than any single person should consume in one sitting. The giant roasted bird was one thing, but who needed eight different side dishes and four desserts? It made our long, drawn-out, multi-course meals back at home seem like child’s play.
Making myself useful, I was clearing plates and bringing them into the kitchen when I heard Liam say quietly to Jaxon, “Grab the scotch and meet us next door.”
What was that about?
Jaxon and Natalie were finishing their hosting duties, saying goodbye to their guests, when Liam found me still in the kitchen after he had helped put the kids to bed. Nodding toward the hallway we used when entering the house, he said, “The girls are staying. Us guys are heading next door.”
I wondered if this was something they did often. From Liam’s reaction to a girls’ night when we landed a few days ago, I’d say so. After thanking Natalie and Jaxon for having me, I ventured out into the cold November night, returning to Liam’s house.
Liam was getting a fire started in a pit on their back patio when Jaxon arrived with a bottle of scotch and three glasses. Placing them on the patio table, he dropped onto a cushioned outdoor chair, remarking, “This stuff is usually saved for special occasions.”
Curious, I turned the bottle to get a look at the label. The brand wasn’t anything high-end that I would recognize, so I couldn’t help but ask, “What makes it special?”
Liam chuckled. “For some reason, this scotch makes an appearance at important moments in our lives—most notably, when our now-wives throw us for a loop. You’re about to marry my sister, so I figured you could use some.”
Protesting, I shook my head, “No. I’m not like you guys—you’re in love. I’m fucking miserable.”
“Been there.” Jaxon raised his hand.
“Me, too,” Liam offered. “Usually, we are drinking this scotch when we don’t know which way is up. Sounds like you could use all the help you can get.”
I honed in on a single word—help. That’s what I was missing, so I jumped on the opportunity. Taking Jaxon’s offered glass of scotch, I took a sip before laying out my proposal. “I need you guys to help me.”
