I’d never gone to a Christmas party before. Anton had been invited to parties when I lived with him, but he’d always made a point of staying with me, trying to give me as normal a holiday as possible. After he was gone, I hadn’t really felt like celebrating much.

I grimaced at myself in the mirror and tugged on my dress as if it needed help to lay correctly. I’d bought this dress on clearance a couple months ago and then forgot about it since it was clearly a winter dress. A deep, rich blue, it made my eyes stand out, and the material clung to my body. The neckline was high enough that my scar didn’t show, but the plunging back and the high slit revealed plenty of skin. I hoped Jalen would like it as much as I did.

The knock on the door made me turn away from the mirror, and I took a deep breath. We’d said I love you but, somehow, this felt a little more serious. Like we were making a public declaration, showing up at a family thing together. Like we were saying we were family.

I pushed the thought away as I opened the door…and promptly lost the ability to think.

Damn.

His slacks were a deep charcoal gray and perfectly fitted to his long legs and narrow waist. The shirt was a cranberry red, just tight enough to show off his broad shoulders and muscles.

“Wow.” Jalen broke the silence first. “You look…wow. I mean, you always look good, but that dress is amazing.”

I blushed and ran my hands over my hips. “Thank you. You look great too.”

“Shall we?”

He helped me into my coat and then held out his arm. I took it, and we made our way down the outside steps. We didn’t talk much on the drive, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with soft Christmas carols and the low purr of the engine. Tension I hadn’t even realized I was holding bled away with each mile so that by the time we reached the house, I was ready.

The Archers had decorated their house and property with strands of white and blue lights, lining their driveway to provide a clear path all the way up. When we were welcomed inside, the explosion of color made me smile. Red and green and gold were everywhere. Ribbons and tinsel and bows. Where the things outside had been clearly laid out, everything in here looked haphazard. Some of them were crooked, and the spacing was uneven. Through the living room archway, I could see the tree shining with bulbs and lights and tinsel, ornaments put on at random.

It was wonderful.

Even if I hadn’t figured out the reason for the difference, one look at the beaming little girl standing next to the tree would’ve told me. Diana was dressed in a red velvet dress with white lace, the sort of thing that I would’ve hated when I was her age, but it was clear she loved it.

Jeremiah didn’t look quite as thrilled in his dress pants and shirt, but he had that half-embarrassed expression on his face that boys his age had when they were enjoying themselves but didn’t want to admit it. He lingered near Zeke, hero worship shining in his eyes, and he gave us polite smiles when we greeted him, a far cry from the sullen boy I first met.

“Thanks for coming,” Jenna said as she came forward to take our coats. She handed them off to Jeremiah and then took the wine Jalen offered. “Make yourselves at home.”

“I love the decorations,” I said to Rylan as Jalen and I followed him into the living room.

“Jeremiah and I did the decorating,” Diana announced proudly. “Dad helped us with the top, but we told him where to put things.”

“Yes, they did,” Rylan said with a smile, his eyes dancing. “They were very bossy.”

Diana put her hands on her hips. “You said we were allowed to be bossy with you as long as we didn’t fight.”

He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, I did, and you two were exceptional. No bickering at all.”

She beamed, basking in his praise, and my heart clenched. I’d almost forgotten what it had been like to earn a father’s praise. I had the memories of those good years, but a lot of times they hurt more than the bad ones, reminding me of what I’d lost rather than what I’d had. Seeing Diana with Rylan and knowing what that little girl had gone through in her short life reminded me of how good I’d had it. Being thankful for those years didn’t excuse what happened later, and it didn’t dishonor my mother’s memory.

“Rona are you okay?” Jalen’s hand on my back grounded me. “You looked like you were drifting for a minute there.”

I smiled at him. “I was, but I’m back.”

“Good,” he said, “because I’ve just been informed that we’re required to follow tradition.”

I gave him a puzzled look and then followed his gaze as he looked up. Mistletoe.

“You have to kiss,” Diana said. “It’s the law.”

A smile played around Jalen’s lips, but when he spoke, his voice was serious. “We wouldn’t want to break the law, now would we?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

He put his hands on my hips, his touch light but hot. My hands went to his shoulders as I tilted my head back. The kiss he brushed across my lips was chaste, but it sent a bolt of heat and desire through me nonetheless. The warmth settled low in my belly, simmering there with the promise of more intimate things to come, and it stayed as we ate dinner and saw the kids off to bed.

After my second glass of wine, I excused myself to use the bathroom. I’d spent time in the house before, but I hadn’t really paid much attention to the pictures lining the hallway to the guest bathroom until now. Diana and Jeremiah’s faces were everywhere. Some of the pictures were of all four of the Archers, and there were a few of Rylan and Jenna alone, including one of their wedding, but the majority were of the kids. A couple of them looked like they were school pictures, but most of them were candid shots. Diana exclaiming over a giraffe at a zoo. Jeremiah sitting in a classic muscle car at what appeared to be a museum. Both children building a snowman.

I stopped in front of a whole collage of the family working on a pair of bedrooms. They were painting the walls, and every picture showed them smiling and laughing together. The sight brought back a memory with enough force to make me tear up.

“Are you sure that’s the color you want?” Dad sounded doubtful, but he’d promised me my choice, and I knew he’d keep his word. Even if he didn’t like the mint green paint I’d chosen.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I want this on the walls and that one for the trim.”

I was going to be ten next week, and as a birthday present, my parents had finally agreed to let me redo my room how I wanted it. No more pastel yellow walls or babyish curtains. I was even going to get a new bed, but Dad said that had to wait until after we painted because he didn’t want to risk ruining it. I hadn’t told him or Mom, but I was looking forward to painting almost as much as when the room would be done because all three of us were going to paint it together. Mom and Dad had been working so much lately that we never had time together. Sure, sometimes they could be lame, but unlike a lot of my friends, I still liked spending time with them.

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. I’d almost completely forgotten about us doing my room together. We’d spent an entire weekend getting it done. We’d ordered pizza and ate on the floor like it’d been a picnic. I’d forgotten to pull my hair back at one point, and it’d stuck to the wall, getting paint all over it. Instead of being mad, my mom just laughed and dabbed paint on the beard my dad had been growing that year.

“I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.” Jalen came over and stood next to me. “Photogenic family.”

I nodded. “Most of my family pictures are in storage in Indiana. Pretty much anything personal is there actually. Anton sold the house and most of the furniture, but he didn’t have room in his loft for the rest, not knowing what I wanted to keep. He didn’t want to be the one to decide what got thrown away, so he rented a storage unit. After he died, I put most of my stuff from the years with him in there too.”

“My family really didn’t do much in the way of family photos,” he said, “as I’m sure you noticed.”

I had, but it hadn’t seemed like the sort of thing I should mention. I reached over and took his hand. “I’ve never been a big fan of having my picture taken.”

He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. “Does that mean I won’t be able to convince you to pose for me sometime?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was teasing, but I appreciated the change from a topic that could’ve turned the mood maudlin.

“I don’t know,” I teased back. “I suppose I could be persuaded. If you worked really hard at it.”

He glanced around us, then pulled me through a doorway and into the library. My head spun as he backed me against the wall, but he didn’t give me a chance to steady myself before his mouth came down on mine. He made a pleased, hungry sound in the back of his throat as his tongue pushed apart my lips. I curled my fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him as he ran a hand down my side and over my hip.

“I’m going to make you come,” he murmured as he slid his hand under the slit in my dress. “You’re going to come on my fingers, and then we’ll go back in to our friends and enjoy the rest of the party.”

I nodded, a shiver running down my spine. His fingers danced, feather-light, along my skin even as he kissed his way across my jaw and down my neck. His teeth scraped against my skin, and I bit my lip to hold back the moan that wanted to escape.

He leaned against me, the flat planes of his chest hard against the points of my nipples. His fingers pressed against the front of my panties, and he chuckled. I didn’t need him to tell me that the cloth was damp. He could make me wet with a single kiss.

I cried out as his fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, two of them sliding inside me without any hesitation. He clamped his hand over my mouth, his eyes dark with desire.

“Shh,” he said with a smile. “Can’t be too loud.”

I glared at him as he twisted his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His thumb rubbed my clit with brisk, almost rough strokes, pushing me toward something explosive. Something jarring and brutal. I whimpered against his hand, squirming as he drove his fingers into me, my muscles quivering as the pressure built inside me.

“I want you to come,” he practically growled the words. “Dammit, Rona, come. I need to see you come.”

I cursed, the word muffled by his hand. My back arched, and I rocked against his hand. I squeezed my eyes closed, nails digging into the soft fabric of his sweater. He continued talking, ordering me to climax, telling me how much he needed to see it, how much he wanted to feel me come on his fingers. And then I was there, crying out his name as white-hot pleasure coursed through me.