23. Avery

CHAPTER 23

AVERY

The house loomed ahead, the brick exterior wrapped in the soft glow of holiday lights, the kind that would have looked picturesque on a Christmas card. As we pulled into the driveway, I cut the engine.

I caught my reflection in the window, then let my gaze drift back to Creed. He looked good—really good. Better than he had at Thanksgiving, even. His cheeks had a healthier flush, his frame filling out beneath the layers of winter clothes. At Thanksgiving, Creed had that rugged, soldierly strength, but now there was a solidness to him, like he'd found some stability, even if it was fragile. A part of me itched to reach out, touch his hand, feel the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. I couldn't help hugging him when I picked him up at his place hours ago. It was spontaneous because… dammit… I'd missed the man. Hadn't seen him in about a month. But now I kept my hands firmly on the steering wheel, knowing better than to cross that line without knowing where we stood.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? We hadn't figured out anything yet—not what this was between us, not why the sight of him sent my pulse racing, or why I felt like a giddy teenager with a crush when he looked at me for more than a second. The ride to my mother's place had been light-hearted and fun and I hoped that was a sign that our short stay here would be just the same.

We got out of the car and stepped inside the family home, greeted by Edmund. The scent of cinnamon and pine, Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas" wafting from the living room a reflection of the holiday spirit. Mother was waiting with a smile that was almost warm, her arms extended for a quick embrace. "Avery. Creed. So glad you made it safely."

Creed stood a little stiffly beside me, but I could see him soften under the attention. I tried to keep close, hoping that my presence would make this easier for him. And then we met Carl.

Carl, my sister's husband, with his perfectly pressed shirt and the confident ease of a man who'd always been on the right side of power. He extended a firm handshake toward Creed, and I watched Creed visibly shift. He squared his shoulders, his back straightening into that rigid military stance I'd seen from him before.

"Creed, right? Becca told me a little about you. I did some time in the Air Force myself." Carl's smile was easy, but there was a smugness in the way he spoke, a casual superiority that made my teeth clench.

Creed took Carl's hand, meeting his gaze with a tightness around his mouth. "Yes, sir. Heard a lot about your work."

Nice save, Creed. We'd barely spoken about my brother-in-law. I'd even forgotten he was going to be here.

The ‘sir' grated against me, but Creed's tone was perfectly respectful, his expression controlled. It was almost like watching him put on a uniform—masking everything underneath with a veneer of deference. He'd been so open and easy to talk to on the ride up, but he seemed to be folding in on himself with every second spent in Carl's presence.

I couldn't stand it. "Catch up with you later, Carl?"

Carl barely spared me a glance before turning back to his drink. "Sure, sure. See you around."

As we walked away, I glanced at Creed, his jaw set tight, hands flexing at his sides like he was trying to release some invisible tension. I reached out to nudge his shoulder lightly, just enough that he had to meet my eyes. "You good?"

He blinked, his expression shifting from that stony focus back to something more human, more real. He glanced at me, then away, exhaling like he'd been holding that breath for far too long. "Yeah. Just... old habits die hard, I guess."

The day passed quickly. The house hummed with the sounds of Christmas Eve—laughter, clinking glasses, the crackle of a fire in the distant room. But a sense of heaviness settled in my chest as I thought about the family dinner looming over the evening. It was the same routine every year: endless small talk, barely veiled judgment, the pretense of togetherness—a show that always left me feeling hollow.

Creed looked like he was one more tight-lipped smile away from blowing out some steam. But with a few hours left until dinner, I figured we could both use a break—maybe sneak away, catch our breath before facing the main event.

As soon as the idea took shape, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw it was my assistant. I sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be a quick conversation.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Branson." Her voice was tight with urgency.

I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. "Happy Christmas, Miss Rodgers. What's going on?"

"Last-minute delivery delays for the holiday supplies, and we have a VIP guest whose suite has been double-booked. Plus, I've just been informed that a few staff members are sick and can't cover shifts."

"Great," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'll handle it."

It took me a couple of hours on the phone to get things back to order. I was stuck in my father's office the entire time. But as the head of Branson Resorts, I couldn't let my family's legacy suffer because of unexpected issues, even on Christmas Eve.

Feeling confident that everything was under control now, I couldn't wait to be in Creed's company again. I wondered if he'd missed me as much as I'd missed him, even though it was only two hours I was stuck in my father's office. I made my way down the hallway, voices drifting toward me—high-pitched and giggly, mingling with the low rumble of a familiar baritone. I followed the sound, curious, and stopped short when I found the source.

Creed was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by all three of my nieces, Jenna, Harper and Emily. The tiara perched on his head sparkled beneath the glow of the fairy lights strung along the wall. His expression, usually so guarded, had softened into something almost unrecognizable—easy, unburdened.

Creed looked completely at ease, leaning back on his palms, his strong arms resting on the carpet as the girls draped him with scarves in a riot of colors—pink, purple, and glittering gold. He listened intently as they rambled on about their imaginary world, their words tumbling over each other like the ornaments scattered on the tree. His smile, wide and genuine, made something inside me swell with warmth.

"Perfect!" Harper declared, her face lighting up as if she'd just discovered a hidden treasure.

Creed gave a dramatic flourish, extending his hand and bowing low. "How do I look, Your Highnesses?"

The girls erupted into peals of laughter, clapping their hands, and my heart stumbled over itself at the sight. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment. He didn't know I was there yet—didn't know I was watching him like this, seeing a side of him I'd never seen before. And it was... mesmerizing.

"Can you be the princess of sparkles?" Emily asked, practically bouncing on her toes with eagerness.

Creed laughed, a deep rumble that sent a thrill through me. "I think I can manage that. But only if all of you promise to be my royal advisors."

The girls erupted into a fit of giggles, their joy infectious. They crowded around him, their hands flailing as they discussed royal duties, each trying to outdo the others with grand ideas.

"You should wear these!" Jenna piped up, holding up what looked like a thousand necklaces as if they were the crown jewels.

"Absolutely! I need to look stunning for the royal ball," Creed replied, feigning a dramatic sigh that sent them into another fit of laughter.

The girls began to drape necklaces around Creed's neck—clinking and jingling like holiday bells—and I felt a wave of appreciation wash over me. I loved the way he engaged with them as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Are you a real princess now, Uncle Creed?" Harper asked, tilting her head as she inspected her handiwork. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she moved closer, squinting at him like she could see right through his playful act.

Creed let out a deep chuckle, the sound rich and warm. "I don't know. I think you'd have to ask Uncle Avery about that one."

Just then, a giggle escaped from Emily, who had caught sight of me standing at the doorway. Then Jenna and Harper turned, lighting up at the sight of me. I smiled, but my gaze lingered on Creed—how his eyes were soft, the way he'd let down his guard. Something stirred in my chest, warm and unexpected.

"Looks like the royal ball just got a little more exciting," I teased, drawing Creed's attention. He looked up at me, and for a moment, the world around us faded.

His smile was genuine, open, and it sent a thrill racing through me.

"Your Highness," I gestured with a playful bow. "Might I have the honor of stealing you away for a moment?"

Creed turned to the girls, raising an eyebrow playfully. "What do you think, royal advisors? Can I take a quick break?"

The girls giggled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Only if the princess promises to join the feast when it's ready," Jenna called out.

"Deal," Creed replied, rising to his feet and shedding the tiara with a flourish that sent the girls into another fit of giggles.

Without a word, I grabbed Creed's hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. A sense of mischief bubbled within me.

I led him up the narrow staircase.

"Where are we going?" Creed asked, a hint of laughter in his voice, curiosity lighting his eyes.

"Just a little higher," I teased.

The air grew cooler as we ascended, passing family portraits that watched us with their frozen smiles. Finally, I pulled open the door to the attic, the rusty hinges creaking in protest. I led Creed through the dimly lit space, dodging stacks of forgotten boxes and a few half-broken chairs.

I motioned him to a cozy corner tucked beneath a small window. A few cushions lay haphazardly around.

Creed glanced around, taking in the scene. "This place is… nice." He chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he was here. "Did you used to hide up here?"

"Absolutely." I plopped down on a pile of cushions, pulling him down beside me. "Sometimes I'd come up here, read, and just dream about being anywhere else."

Creed's expression softened, a mixture of curiosity and understanding washing over his features. "What did you dream about?"

I leaned back, letting my head fall against the cushions. "Freedom. Just… being free to be me without worrying about what everyone else thought."

Creed's gaze lingered on me, a contemplative silence stretching between us. "I get that," he finally murmured. "There were times I wanted to hide from everything too."

I caught the weight behind his words, a connection rekindling between us. "What was your escape?"

"Back then? It was sports, mostly. I would run or play hockey until my lungs burned, just to forget everything else." His voice grew quieter. "But there were times when I wanted to escape even that."

"You're not alone in that feeling," I said softly, our eyes locking.

He shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against mine, igniting a spark of warmth that coursed through me. "I wish I had known you back then," he said, a hint of longing lacing his tone. "Maybe it would have been easier."

I smiled, that same longing mirrored in my own heart. "Yeah, maybe. But we're here now."

A moment of silence fell between us. Creed leaned in, and before I fully registered what was happening, his lips pressed against mine.

The kiss lit a fire that burned through me, a heat that swept from my lips to every nerve. Creed's warmth wrapped around me, pulling me deeper into the moment as I leaned closer, tasting the hint of sweetness on his breath mixed with something raw, something undeniably real. The world melted away, leaving only the electric hum of my pulse in my ears, the press of his mouth on mine, and the way time seemed to bend—stretching into something infinite, like we were the only two people left in existence.

As our mouths moved together, the kiss transformed from gentle to urgent. I lost myself in the moment, every brush of his lips a promise, every sigh an invitation. My hands tangled in his hair, drawing him even closer, deepening the connection we had reignited.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, our breaths mingling, still charged with the energy of what had just passed.

"Wow," he breathed, his voice low and reverent.

"Yeah," I echoed, my heart pounding in my chest. "That was… nice."

Creed chuckled softly. "Nice? Just nice?"

I grinned, feeling playful. "Well, it was pretty great. I just didn't want to overdo it."

"Overdo it?" He tilted his head, mischief glinting in his eyes. "How about we do it again?"

With a laugh, I leaned in again, our lips meeting in another kiss, this one more passionate but still tender. Time slipped away as we melted into each other, exchanging soft whispers and laughter.

"I could get used to this," I admitted, nestling deeper into the cushions.

Creed brushed a thumb across my cheek, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "Me too. It feels… safe up here."

"Exactly," I murmured, feeling a sense of peace enveloping us. "Like the rest of the world can wait."