This was the right thing to do. His body relaxed but his arms tightened around her and he gave her a squeeze.
She found out during breakfast that Callum and his father before him had been protecting her since her parents died. Ryon was what they called “the lead” of Sonia’s “detail”.
This meant they knew practically everything about her (except her injection). They knew about Gregor, Yuri, her schooling, her friends (such as they were), her shop, her house, everything.
This explained those benign presences Sonia felt since her parents died and she felt a strange sense of relief that she finally knew what they were. However, she told herself she didn’t feel a not-so-strange sense of warmth that Callum and his father had taken great pains to protect her since her parents died (but she did feel it).
Therefore, after breakfast, Ryon walked up to where Sonia was standing at the counter, scooting her pancake remains around on her plate. There were a lot of them, Regan made delicious pancakes but Sonia wasn’t hungry.
He slid an arm around her shoulders, tucked her into his side and teased, “As an apology for stalking you for thirty years, I told Regan you clearly had a thing for Christmas.” She looked up at him and he grinned down at her at which time she noticed he was nearly as good-looking as Callum. “Regan likes to shop, as those clothes you’re wearing lay testament to.” Sonia glanced at Regan in surprise and gratitude at learning Regan had supplied her wardrobe. She looked back to Ryon when he finished, “She ran out and got some decorations so you could have little bit of Christmas while you’re stuck up here. They’re out in the car.”
This was such a nice thing to do, Sonia’s mood lifted instantly and she had no idea just how much her expression brightened.
She also had no idea how much it transformed her “seriously pretty” face.
She further had no idea that Callum could see her plainly from where he was leaning at the end of the counter.
And no idea the intensity of the response Callum felt at seeing her expression.
She also didn’t know that she’d never, not once, looked at Callum with her expression shining and unguarded. She didn’t even cotton on when Ryon’s body went solid and he stared at her like he’d never seen a female before.
“Really?” she breathed. “You did that for me?”
He jolted at her words, a slow, gorgeous smile spread on his face and he replied, “Really.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Anything for my queen,” he mumbled, his green eyes going soft.
Not knowing what to do but having been told by Callum that his people were affectionate, she gave him a little, hurried and uncomfortable hug around his middle.
To this, Ryon dropped his head and rubbed his temple along her hair.
That temple thing, she thought, must be some sort of Callum’s People Gesture.
However, a split second after Ryon did it, Callum’s voice cracked through the room with, “Ry, f**king hell. Seriously?”
Ryon pulled away and looked at Callum who was scowling at them.
“She’s difficult to resist,” Ryon replied strangely but with an open, roguish grin.
“Try harder,” Callum returned, his voice flinty, clearly not finding whatever they were talking about amusing.
Ryon gave her a squeeze and let her go. Then the men went out to their SUV to get the Christmas decorations and Caleb came back.
Caleb still seemed in a surly mood but he gave Sonia a welcome to the family hug before tucking into his own pancakes.
They didn’t bring a tree and all the trimmings. But they did bring boughs for the mantels, Christmas lights, pretty, playful ornaments and knickknacks of Santa Clauses, reindeers and snowmen to put in the greenery. There were also matching fun candlestick holders for the coffee table with festive, wonderful-smelling green and red candles. And last, a big, plump, snowman cookie jar that Regan told Sonia they were going to fill by baking Christmas cookies.
The women got down to baking while the men drank coffee (Calder and Ryon) or dealt with the boughs and lights (Callum and Caleb).
It didn’t take long but when it was all arranged, while Regan was rolling out dough and Sonia was cutting out gingerbread men, it transformed the space to almost magical.
And baking Christmas cookies like she did with her Momma in that same kitchen so many years ago, with Christmas decorations in the house, jovial male voices and Regan’s musical one mingling around her, suddenly cut deeply through Sonia.
Therefore, Sonia froze mid-gingerbread man when Callum plugged in the lights to the mantel in the living room and she didn’t know she sucked in breath.
Regan heard it and her head turned to Sonia. “Sonia? Sweetheart?”
Sonia stared at the greenery on the mantel twinkling with lights and dangling with lively, lovely ornaments and she remembered her mother’s decorated mantels in that very room.
“Sonia?” Regan called again but Sonia didn’t move.
It was too much. All of it.
Too much to take.
“Callum, something’s wrong with –” Regan started but Sonia was already drawn away from the dough, the cookie cutter pulled from her hand and she was being turned toward Callum’s big body.
“Little one, look at me,” he demanded.
Automatically she tipped her head back to look at him.
He took one look at her face and asked, “Jesus, honey, what’s the matter?”
She didn’t delay in replying. “The last time I was here, my Momma’s decorations were on that mantel.”
She barely finished talking before she was yanked into his embrace and when his warm body surrounded her, she lost it.
She burst into loud, wracking sobs. It was embarrassing and it was weak but it was also understandable.
Her life was terrible.
It had once been perfect when her mother and father were alive. Idyllic. Wonderful. She had been protected. She had been loved. She had been told she should be proud of who she was and the gifted things she could do. And she had lived her young life knowing her Momma and Papa were proud of her and those gifts.
Since then all she had was Gregor who wasn’t exactly loving, if he was always gruffly kind. And Yuri who was also gruffly kind but decided not to be her brother-type-figure but instead wanted since she turned twenty-one (and he made no bones about it) to be her lover-and-husband-type-figure.
And without anyone knowing what she could do, much less being proud, she felt she was weird.
Because of that she had to hide her gifts and therefore had no true friends who knew her down to her every secret.