All Madison wants for Christmas is the same person who once wanted her. Free from the shackles of her broken heart, she's finally ready to give love another shot. But is Madi too late to win back the man of her dreams?
SEQUEL to The Heartbreak Hypot...
He tossed a rogue raven lock back from over his forehead, reveling in my curiosity for a second longer. I had a feeling that he quite enjoyed it. His eyes swung up and down my frame before he said, "No, babe. James'."
"Oh!" I nodded, evaluating him again with fresh eyes. I should have guessed that he was related to James. While his hair was thicker and curlier than his cousin's, he had the trademark ocean eyes of a true Bennet. His gaze was just as warm and reassuring as that of my best friend's, too. And, unlike so many other guests in that expensive, dazzling room, he had a genuine sort of energy about him. He was looking at me with interest, but he was regarding me as an equal.
Even in that silly Christmas sweater.
He shook his head ever-so-slightly, disagreeing with some of what he'd just said. "He's more than that, though."
I hid my intrigue behind a sip of champagne, but I think he caught it gleaming in my eyes. It wasn't my place to pry, but with a statement like that, how could I not?
He appeared to appraise me for a moment, sweeping that hypnotic Bennet stare over me one more time. Then, with a small smirk, he cast his eyes back out to the crowd.
"You know people like this," he clucked. "I can tell by the way you look at them."
I followed his glare around the diamond-studded room. It wasn't difficult to see that we—or maybe just me, the shiny new toy amongst a crowd of familiars—had captured the attention of more than a few guests. And the young Bennet was right; I did know them. At least, I had a pretty good idea of the personality that came with those sorts of sneers mixed with that type of old money.
"They don't like scandals," he clarified. "They don't like anything that rocks the boat. When I came out, that rocked the boat." He swallowed a dry laugh, one that inferred that 'rocking the boat' was a vast understatement of what'd happened. "Almost every Bennet in this room turned their back on me. Except Jay." He pointed to his cousin, who'd been forced away from his parents by a group of older women.
Who, might I add, couldn't seem to keep their hands to themselves.
"He talked to his parents. The three of them talked to my parents. He explained things in a way that I never could. In a way that got through to them. He helped them to stop seeing me as what they thought I was—a stain, a mark—and start seeing me for what I am." He shrugged. "Human."
I smiled as his words settled into the air, following his eyes back out across the ballroom. When I caught another glimpse of my golden haired friend, my heart swelled for him. I don't know why I felt proud of him; it's not like I was surprised to learn that he'd risked his family and his inheritance in order to do the right thing. It wasn't surprising at all.
It was just him.
I smiled softly. "He's a good person."
James' cousin jerked his head—a movement caught between a shake and a nod. His tone mirrored that ambiguity, both agreeing and disagreeing with me at the same time. "He's just ... love. Pure. Unconditional."
My heart twinged. Because I knew.
God, I knew.
He scrunched up his face the moment the words left his mouth. Sarcasm crumpled his features as he groaned, "Yikes. Don't tell him I said that. He'll probably want to hug me."
I couldn't help but laugh. So many emotions were swirling inside of me, and I needed a way to let them out without doing something ridiculous like crying.
"I love these," I said, running a hand along my wrist as I nodded to the sweet chains on his. He was adorned in dainty pendants—a silver branch of holly hanging from one ear, snowflakes and tiny stars garnishing his fingers and wrists. Each silver piece was small but incredibly detailed, festive but not over-the-top, culminating in a carefully selected ensemble of understated holiday cheer.
His reply was cryptic, his eyes shedding their vulnerable edge and flashing mischievously. "You do?"
I returned his inquisitive stare with one of my own. He cleared his throat, offering me a softer, sheepish grin.
"They're mine," he explained. "I make them, I mean."
"Really?" They were so pretty and perfect, I'd just assumed they were Cartier or Tiffany. "Gosh, I couldn't imagine being able to make something so precious."
"I couldn't imagine being able to memorize the periodic table," he laughed, waving a hand so that his rings caught on the light. "My science classes consisted of me designing jewelry on my exam paper."
I laughed along with him, though I couldn't help but feel a pang of shame. I knew nothing about him, and he seemed to know more than a thing or two about me. Enough that he'd felt comfortable to share the story of his coming out with me.
"Bennet ..."
I startled at the sound of the low, sultry drawl. It was a tone so very uncharacteristic on a voice that was otherwise familiar.
Noah stepped forward, and my new friend's eyes flashed again.
"Jones ..." he drawled back. He regarded him slowly, casting a not-so-subtle glance up and down Noah's broad silhouette. He cocked his head and raised a primped brow, scrutinizing the reindeer on my friend's sweater with a teasing, layered smirk. "Always one for the latest trends, aren't we babe?"
"Not worth the style points, I must admit." Noah chuckled, running a hand along the arm of his jumper to demonstrate his point. "These things itch like you wouldn't believe. Right, Madi?"
I nodded simply, though I couldn't at all relate. My knit was soft, the cream wool cozy and fluffy against my cold skin. Actually, I'd never owned a sweater so nice.
Now that I thought about it, the material on mine looked drastically different to that on Noah's.
"Why don't you take it off?" James' cousin asked, his voice cool while his insinuation was not. When I stole a glance in his direction, he was eyeing Noah closely.
Intimately.
Like I wasn't there at all.
"Is that appropriate?" Noah asked, his voice just as husky, his gaze just as penetrating.
"You should take it off," the enigmatic Bennet repeated.
My eyes flew open, a swift heat pricking my cheeks.
Suddenly, I didn't want to be there at all.
Because I was definitely interrupting ... something.
"Blair," Noah warned with a buttery laugh, "there are families present—"
"Blair?" I shrieked.
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