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“And miss out on you spewing Cristal all over the velvet chair? Hells to the no, brother. That was priceless. Maybe the best gift you’ve given me in a while.”
“Nice.” I shook my head and lifted my wine glass to my lips. The bubbly was not going to be enough to get me through this dinner.
“How long do we need to stay?”
I now understood why our father needed our support. John Strauss was a wealthy banker in the city, and Claire was a well-known socialite who’d been in the press a lot after she’d dated an actor a few years ago, and people became fascinated with her. It was mainly due to her lavish lifestyle, but this would definitely be big news that she’d married the much older best friend of her father, who was best known for being a selfish playboy and traveling to exotic places.
“I planned to stay two nights, but I think we should head back tomorrow night.” The truth was, I wanted to finish my conversation with Georgia. I hadn’t been laid in months, and for whatever reason, it wasn’t going to happen as long as she was on my mind and invading my every fucking thought. She’d told me not to overthink it. She knew who I was, and if she was okay with it… I wasn’t going to fight it.
“I met someone. I’m going to fly her to meet me in the city for a few days, and then I’ll meet you in Crystal Cove,” he said.
“It’sCottonwoodCove. And I thought you asked me if there were any women there because you were single. When did you meet someone?”
“Last night. I was in New York, and she’s a friend of a friend, and we hit it off. At least for right now.” He smirked.
“All right,” Mrs. Winters said, and everyone stopped talking. “Dinner is served.” The ridiculously formal domes were lifted from our plates, and the smell of beef tenderloin and rosemary potatoes flooded my senses.
My grandfather raised a glass and waited for us all to do the same. Claire held her water glass up and glanced over at me with a smile. The whole thing was awkward. We’d been friends for as long as I could remember. We’d even spent family vacations together. Now she was carrying my sibling?
“Cheers to another great year together. To this new adventure for Davis and Claire and their new baby, and to my grandsons, who are both amazing, and to my beautiful bride, who I love endlessly. Let’s eat.”
My grandmother blushed. She actually blushed. They’d been married for over fifty years, and they still had that spark. I knew it existed. I’d just seen the other side of it. The ugly side of love. The one that erodes and destroys and eventually sucks the life from you.
I shook it off as we listened to Wyle tell us about his travels, and Claire shared her plans for the nursery in the new home they were closing on next week. We ate, we drank, and then we moved into the formal living room to open gifts.
We always did it on Christmas Eve now, as Christmas morning was no longer what it used to be, and no one was pretending that it was.
I received more gifts than I needed from my grandparents, from clothing and shoes to cologne to fancy cuff links and a new watch. My father gifted us cash, which was typical for him. It wasn’t really something any of us needed, but I didn’t normally put thought into gifts, so who was I to judge about that?
The surprise of the evening was watching everyone open their gifts from me. My grandmother gasped when she unwrapped the gorgeous charm bracelet with charms representing my grandfather, my father, me, and Wyle. All her boys. Her eyes were wet with emotion, and her hand clasped her heart.
“Thank you. I love this,” she said softly, almost at a loss for words.
“You always were a kiss-ass. Apparently, you’ve upped your game,” Wyle whisper-hissed in my ear as my grandparents opened the wine and cheese basket from him.
I smirked as my grandfather tugged off the bow of the large box sitting on his lap. When he pulled off the lid, he just stared down, not saying a word.
What the fuck did she get him?
“Maddox,” he said, his voice wobbly. “Very thoughtful, my boy.”
A first edition of TheGreat Gatsbyfor his library. Georgia had asked me what his favorite book was in passing a few weeks ago, but I hadn’t known why. I thought she was just curious, because she asked a lot of questions all the time.
But Georgia Reynolds really was a fucking rock star.
Wyle groaned as he leaned close to me. “Next year, we’re going in on gifts together, you dickmonger.”
I laughed, and the rest of the night was uneventful. My father was surprised that I’d gotten him a pair of super fancy black velvet slippers with his initials monogrammed on them.
I was just as surprised as he was.
And Claire appeared overjoyed with the soft, oversized white blanket that I’d gotten her.
But the most surprising had been Wyle’s gift. A framed photo of me and Wyle when we were young sat beside a more recent one of the two of us. She’d obviously gone on to Facebook to find these, and my brother gaped as he took in the photographs. And then he reached inside the box and pulled out a super fancy camera. I’d shared with Georgia that my brother had recently found a love for photography during his travels, and it had annoyed me that he’d taken all these great photos from his phone.
She clearly listened.
“Damn, brother. I need to step up my game next year,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Thank you so much.”
