14. Tommy

Chapter fourteen

Tommy

A s we enter the ballroom of the resort, I'm struck by its elegance. Burgundy drapes cascade from ceiling to floor next to the expansive windows. Every wall bears the portrait of a man who must be Tilly's late father, each surrounded by enough flowers to suggest he was either deeply beloved or they are trying to ward off his ghost with sheer petal power.

Outside, the snow-laden forest presents a breathtaking view. The pines, burdened yet majestic under the snow's weight, are gorgeous. There's something magical about snow, the way it transforms the world into a hushed, clean landscape. It's perfect for building forts for hiding, but maybe not for much else. The cold is something I prefer to observe from the comfort of the indoors. For a while, I was quite the snowboard fiend, but once I discovered surfing, I never looked back. Yes, snow is fun, but it's also fucking freezing. It can't hold a candle to white sand beaches, good waves, beers, and bonfires.

Despite the room's grandeur, my focus shifts back to the radiant figure beside me. Tilly's dress hugs her form in a way that leaves little to the imagination, compelling me to fight the urge to let my hand wander down from her waist. That ass under that thin fabric is like water in the desert. I'll be fighting a hard-on all night if I don't find something else to stare at. The material is practically painted on her, accentuating every curve with tantalizing precision. She can't possibly be wearing underwear. God, that's hot. I suddenly feel the need to splash a drink on my own face just to cool down.

The soft strains of jazz fill the air, setting a refined backdrop to the assembly of elegantly dressed guests. Yet, among the sea of tuxedos and gowns, Tilly and her sister stand out unmatched.

Now that I know she has a twin, I can see the difference. There will be no more mistaking one for the other. The two are as opposite in demeanor as a cactus and a fluffy blanket. Where Tilly is as comforting as an old sweater, Miranda has the welcoming vibe of a cactus in a hug contest. Even in the way they stand. Tilly's posture is relaxed, inviting even. Miranda looks stiff and ready to hit anyone that comes within arm's length.

An older man stops Miranda and she kisses his cheek. "Uncle Harold, so nice to see you," she says and even I can tell she's not as happy as her words suggest.

But the man only has his eyes on Tilly. "Matilda? You're here!" he says, reaching forward. Tilly pecks his cheek exactly as Miranda did, but there's a furrow in her brow. Whoever this guy is, Tilly does not want to be touching him.

"Miranda said she needed me and I'm not a complete monster," she says with a wink.

Harold laughs at her words and tries to pull her into a hug. Is that his hand on her ass? Uh, dude, you're an uncle. I don't care how old he is, not cool, man. Sliding my hand under his, I pull her close. Uncle Pervert gives me a quick glare, his cheeks a little red. "I see you're just as wild as ever, Matilda."

"You know me, show me a bridge—"

"And I'll hold her hand while we jump," I interject, then hold out my hand. "Tommy Hillcrest. How the hell are you?" He grips onto my palm with his, and I squeeze with every muscle surfing and Poseidon gave me. Harold pulls his hand away and shakes it a few times with a wince. "Well, yes. Nice to meet you. Tilly, I'm glad you're here, Tia will be thrilled."

She barely gives him a second look as her eyes find mine. "Yes, well that's why I'm here, right?"

"Indeed," Harold grumbles. "I better get to it then. Nice to meet you, Timmy." I don't bother correcting him. Instead, I sort of wave him off and thankfully he takes the hint to walk away.

"Good God that was hot!" Miranda says excitedly in a whisper. "Fuck, can I borrow him for the next board meeting? There are like five guys that like to treat my ass like their personal bongo."

I chuckle. "Happy to help. Was that really your uncle?"

Tilly sips her drink before answering with a flip of her hand. "Oh, who the fuck knows? I think he's just an old friend of my dad's. Doesn't matter, he's an asshole." At that word, Miranda clinks her wineglass to Tilly's and they share a smile. Hmm, seems like I did the right thing by coming along. My chest puffs out a bit at the thought and we continue our walk around the room.

It was only a few steps before the next person does the same thing. A woman in her mid-thirties with the same silky black hair as Tilly. "Aunt Jemma, nice to see you."

"Yes, Matilda, wonderful you came. Tia is going to be thrilled."

When it happens a third time, I shake my head. "They all adore you."

"It's all fake, Tommy. They just don't want Tia pissed off."

"Yeah, who is Tia? People talk about her like she's some sort of God."

Tilly rolls her eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it. She's my aunt and you will not be meeting her."

We make our way through the crowd to the bar and each order some drinks. But when I ask for a beer, Miranda shakes her head then interjects. "He'll have a seven and seven."

Tilly whispers in my ear before I can complain. "Beer is nitwit juice. She's looking out for you. Undoubtedly, everyone is already gossiping about you being here."

"Really? They all seem so nice."

She's picking up her drink, an irritated look crossing her face. "It's all a fucking lie, Tommy. Think of this room as a political rally. It's all ass-kissing and fake smiles. Hell, it's a good thing no one except Grayson has any kids or everyone would be lining up to kiss them just to get a photo op for the company newsletter."

Miranda purses her lips. "Ignore her. She's just allergic to sugar-coating. Everyone is genuinely happy to see you, Matilda. Especially looking so… infatuated. She's usually a surly mess at these things."

Tilly scowls at her sister. "They just like the open bar."

I barely hear her because I'm still stuck on what Miranda said. Tilly's infatuated? I straighten my back, unable to contain the pride at Miranda's words. Taking a quick look at Tilly, I do see what Miranda is getting at. A healthy glow seems to be radiating from Tilly, her smile as she looks my way only brightening her face even more. Yep. Smitten. And Miranda is clearly blaming it on me.

I snake my arm back around her waist and take a sip of the drink. She looks up at me and I squeeze her hip, lowering my voice to say, "You do look happy, Til."

She glances out at the people all around us, before meeting my eyes again. "I'm not saying I'm glad you're here. But facing them… it is easier with you around."

My grin stretches from ear to ear. "I'll go wherever you want, Til. No questions asked." She looks ready to laugh the suggestion off, but I'm not about to let her joke this away. I put a finger under her chin and tilt her face to mine. "Tilly, I mean it. If you need me, I'm there."

Her eyes shine as they fill with moisture. "What if I always need you, Tommy?"

I let go of her chin, snuggling both arms around her waist, my drink sloshing a bit as I press us closer together. "Then I won't ever leave you." I say it like it's a predetermined thing, like it's the easiest promise to make. Because it is. Her eyes dart between mine, as if trying to figure out if I mean it. I know the exact moment it hits her that I'm serious because her face lights up like it's Christmas morning.

We stay that way, just staring into each other's eyes like lovesick fools until a voice calls, "Matilda?"

We both turn around. An old graying man stands before us, looking weary. Bags under his dark eyes and his beard a little unkempt.

"Papa!" Tilly springs forward and hugs him. She's laughing as they embrace, rocking side to side.

But the man, Papa, doesn't seem nearly as thrilled. "What're you doing here, Matilda? I thought…" he shakes his head. "You shouldn't have come."

Miranda leans forward and kisses Papa's cheek. "I asked her to, Papa. Tia insisted."

He frowns and stuffs both hands into his wrinkled pants pockets. "Yes, my daughter is quite hard to say no to." He turns his gaze to me. "And this must be the boyfriend everyone is talking about. Hello Thomas, I'm Matilda and Miranda's grandfather. You can call me Papa too. Everyone does." He offers me a weak smile and holds out his hand.

I shake it, unsure how the man already knows my name. "Not her boyfriend," I clarify, though I don't want to. It's purely for Tilly's sake. Until she defines our new relationship, I'm not going to push things more than I already have.

"Then I would suggest you stop groping my granddaughter in front of her family." His tone turns sinister, and I feel a chill at his words. But Tilly laughs it off.

"Papa! Don't tease. Tommy is being a perfect gentleman."

"Gentleman or not, I'm not a fan of all the touching." Papa's eyes scan me up and down, like he's gauging how hard it would be to fight me, and the cold feeling in my veins only grows. He might look old and tired, but he's exuding a confidence and power that I've never seen before. It's an eerie combination.

To my surprise, Miranda comes to my defense. "He's harmless, Papa."

I give him a smile, trying to dispel some of the tension. "My mother lives up here. I figured it would be nice to visit and spend more time with Tilly." Tilly's head snaps to me, a curious expression on her face. I realize I haven't had the opportunity to tell her about my mom yet.

But Papa's not impressed. "I see. Brave man. What're you drinking, Thomas?"

"Erm, seven and seven."

He laughs, and the girls join in. I look at each of them in turn, not understanding the joke. Tilly puts a hand on my chest. "It's Tia's favorite. Again, the gossip train will get word to her. Like I said, Miranda is looking out for you. She must like you."

"Hardly. Just don't want this to turn into a soap opera if she doesn't like him," Miranda says.

"Speaking of which, Matilda should go make an appearance," Papa says. The three all grow quiet.

After a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, Tilly hands her drink, a red wine, to me and smooths her dress. She is nervous, and I hate it. In all my time knowing Tilly, I don't think I've ever seen her so flustered.

"I'll be right back," she says, her chin held high. Without another word, she walks away.

I'm frozen in place with the two drinks, hers and mine, in hand. "Shouldn't you guys go with her?"

They look at each other before Papa shakes his head. "Better to let her do it alone. Tia would probably ask us to leave them alone anyway," Miranda says.

I'm not sure what their family dynamic is about, but watching her walk off among the wolves gives me a sinking feeling in my gut. I set the glasses down on the nearest table and start through the crowd after her. I can hear Papa and Miranda both objecting behind me but don't slow down.

They might be okay with Tilly's discomfort, but it'll be a cold day in hell when I send her off alone and upset. Not after the promise I made earlier. I meant what I said: if she needs me, I'm there.