Page 90 of Veiled Yearning

“Are you sure it looks right?” Chiara turns to me, her brows winged up with concern. We’re in the living room, looking out through the opened French doors to the patio just beyond. It looks great—at least to me—with sparkling lights hung over it and Adirondack chairs arranged in a perfect circle around a stone fire pit.

“Yes, gorgeous.” I loop my arm around her waist, bringing her into my side. “It looks wonderful. Now.” I touch her chin, turning her head to look at me. “Will you stop worrying? Just for now? It’s going to be okay.”

Pink tinges her cheeks. “I know, Gav. I just… I’ve never had a party before. I want it to go well.”

“It will.” My gaze sweeps down her body, taking in the new dress she bought—a floaty fabric in a rose-gold color, with a V-neck that shows off a hint of her curves—and I kiss her cheek. “And you look beautiful. In case I didn’t mention it before.”

Pleasure turns her cheeks a deeper pink, and she beams at me. “Thank you, Gav. You look really handsome, too.”

In my concession to the occasion, I’m wearing tailored pants and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up—not exactly dressy, but more formal than my normal clothes. “Oh, really?” I deepen my voice. “Handsome, hmm?”

“You know you are.” A faint knock sounds at the front door. Chiara’s eyes go wide. “Someone is here!”

“Yes, that’s how parties work.” I stroke her cheek and dip my head to capture her lips for a quick kiss. “Now, let’s go greet our friends.”

Chiara slips her hand in mine, and it’s like another puzzle piece falling into place. She fits me, just like I fit her.

Despite Chiara’s nerves, the party starts off perfectly.

In groups of four or six, our guests take the boats we had waiting for them, making the short trip from the shore to our island. Everyone is smiling, happy, enthusing about how peaceful and picturesque it is.

A few people, Larkin included, even mention buying a house in the Adirondacks. “I never realized how nice it was up here,” Larkin says thoughtfully. “Maybe I should find something around here, too.”

Circe rolls her eyes at him, quipping, “You’ve already traumatized poor Chiara enough. And now you want to move closer to her?”

He actually looks hurt, and Chiara moves close to put her hand on his arm. “You didn’t,” she says quietly. “And if you move nearby, we’d both be happy to see you more often.”

Within a couple hours, all our friends have arrived, and the party has reached the perfect balance between calm and boisterous.

Darien and Circe are dancing in a circle with Paul and Xavier, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear about Circe and Paul getting together in the future.

Titus is playing cornhole on the lawn, laughing as he beats Lucas for the fifth time.

David and Raine are cuddling on a loveseat that looks out over the lake, two glasses of wine beside them.

Larkin has gathered a small crowd around him as he regales them with stories from when he was a new vampire, back in the sixteen-hundreds.

Chiara and I are by the bar, making sure everyone has plenty of wine, when Ivy and Ethan come over to us. Ivy gives Chiara a quick hug—they’ve grown close over the last few months—and says, “Thank you for doing this, Chiara. This party… It’s funny. When I first… changed. I never thought it could be good.”

Ethan hugs her, and she continues, “But meeting so many people like me, I realized it’s not like I thought. There’s so much good here. I’m so happy how things turned out.”

Chiara smiles back at her. “I know. I thought the same thing. But now—” Her gaze flashes to mine before returning to Ivy. “I’m happy, too.”

A bit later, Grace and Roman find us over by the firepit, and Grace hugs Chiara hard. “I’m so happy for you.” Then she turns to me. “I was scared to see you, back when you came with Frederick. I was scared of so many things. But now I know”—her eyes twinkle with laughter—“you’re just a teddy bear, like Roman.”

Roman coughs and shakes his head while chuckling. “I’m not a teddy bear.”

Maybe not. But I know he’d do absolutely anything for Grace. Just as I’d do for Chiara.

As the sun is setting, we find a few minutes to talk with Alex and Jules. All of us together by the water, we gaze out at the sun dipping below the horizon, sending a watercolor of reds and oranges across the lake.

“I was thinking,” Jules starts, turning to look between Chiara and me. “Being here, having everyone in one place… It’s really nice. Maybe we could do it again. But at our place this time. Thanksgiving?”

“You want to have everyone at your house for Thanksgiving?” I raise my eyebrows at Alex, wondering what the normally reclusive man thinks of that idea.

He shrugs and gives me a little grin. “If Jules wants to… I’m fine with it.”

“But…” Chiara’s puzzled. “Doesn’t Thanksgiving mean turkey? And stuffing? And things we don’t eat?”

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