Page 72 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“We’re stronger together, right?” I sigh deeply.

He squeezes my knee. “Damn straight.”

“To be honest, it’s our time together that makes everything better,” I say. “There are mornings when I dread going to work, especially after some asshole decided to cuss me out the day before. But you, Waylan, and Riggs have been my rocks. This whole time, you’ve been right beside me. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I told you, we’re in this together, whether you like it or not. It can’t have been easy growing up the way you did,” Sebastian says. “But you don’t have to struggle alone anymore.”

“Technically speaking, I haven’t been alone. I mean, Eva has been in the trenches with me through it all,” I say, eager to give my sister the credit she deserves.

Sebastian smiles softly as he turns right. Traffic is thinning ahead, but there’s a large group of people standing outside the bakery. “It’s time for you and Eva to struggle less, is what I’m trying to say. I do appreciate that you’ve learned to let us help you, Cora. It makes us feel more like—”

“Men,” I chuckle as I finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah,” his voice trails as he squints at the crowd. “What’s going on up there?”

“I’m not sure,” I mumble, “but it doesn’t look like a welcoming committee.”

The closer we get, I realize they are protesting—not only the bakery but specifically me. Horrible words and accusations are scrawled on the large signs they’re holding.

My blood begins to boil. Some of the placards are downright personal in their attacks, and the people holding them up seemunnecessarily aggravated. What’s worse is I recognize most of them as Sebastian pulls over.

“This can’t be happening,” I whisper.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says as he parks the car.

“George Hamilton is behind this.”

He shakes his head. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I reply, fear getting the better of me. Shame burns through my veins. Why do I feel so guilty if I’ve done nothing wrong?

“It’s your bakery. What are you going to do? Let St. James and Hamilton run you out of town with pitchforks and torches? Or, in this case, dumbass signs? Hell, no,” he snaps and gets out of the car, then comes around to open my door, gingerly pulling me onto the sidewalk.

“Sebastian…”

“Stick close to me, baby,” he says.

Before I can further object, we’re crossing the street and cutting right through the crowd of self-righteous assholes—all of them townspeople, churchgoers, and former customers of our bakery.

I know these people. I grew up around most of them. We used to sit next to some of them during the Sunday service. Many of them were here for the ribbon-cutting celebration after we renovated to our new, French-inspired look. I’m shocked by everything unfolding, and I feel powerless because I can’t stop any of it. My heart is shattering, piece by piece, as betrayal burns a hole right into my soul.

“How can they do this?” I mumble.

“Out of the way!” Sebastian shouts, startling an elderly couple. They move aside and clear a path, while the crowd tightens from behind. “Keep your fucking distance or I’m calling the cops!”

“We’re exercising our right to assemble! As well as our right to protest the indecency going on here,” George Hamilton says as he pops out in front of the bakery door.

I catch a glimpse of my sister inside, ashen-faced and likely wanting to throw something at the bastard’s head. But she knows she can’t react. It would only feed the monster.

“What indecency is that exactly, Mr. Hamilton? An insufficiently baked croissant?” Sebastian replies.

“Hey,” I mutter.

“I’m kidding, babe. Your croissants are perfect,” he says to me, then shifts his focus back on Hamilton. “Get the fuck out of my way, or I will call the cops. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Right to assemble,” Hamilton insists with a sneer.

It’s pretty audacious of him to lead this pack. I wonder if it’s desperation or pure malice. Or both. But Sebastian is not intimidated. Instead, he steps up, dangerously close and clearly taller, bigger, and more threatening than Hamilton. “Your right to assemble vanishes the minute I feel my safety is threatened,” Sebastian growls. “And right now, I’m feeling particularly threatened.”

---