Possessive

Chapter 22

It is a short chapter but I needed to give the guys a break.

~~~~~~~~

None of us could stand to be in that house another minute. As soon as Landon grabbed Cherish from upstairs, we all made our ways to our awaiting vehicles and headed to Tristan's house. At least in there, we could find some comfort.

"I'm hungry," I said the minute I stepped through Tristan's front door. "Anyone hungry?"

Tristan chuckled and nodded his head. "Yeah, I could go for some dinner."

"Awesome. While you guys set the table, we girls will be in the kitchen." With that statement, I grabbed Hadassah's and Yasmine's hand and dragged them to the kitchen.

Immediately, I set out to find some wine glasses. I placed three on the island and sprinted towards the refrigerator. Pulling out a chilled bottle of Chardonnay, I hurriedly opened it and poured the red wine in the glasses. I picked up a glass and instantly put it to my head, relishing in the delightful taste of the wine and the buzz of the alcohol.

"I thought we came to cook," Yasmine said, an amused smile on her face.

Nodding my head, I poured more wine into my glass. "We did but I needed to clear my head first. Got to love the buzz of alcohol."

Hadassah laughed at me and picked up her glass of wine, sitting on the island. "The buzz will clear your mind," she said and took a sip of the wine.

"So what are we cooking?" Yasmine asked.

"Well, ladies. Since it is Christmas and the hors d'œuvres that your mother catered were pitiful and worth not being called a meal," I stated making Yasmine and Hadassah laugh. "We will be making a feast worth remembering. Fettuccini with stir fry chicken strips dressed in tangy lemon sauce, garlic bread and salad for those of us who like to watch our figure. Wine for the ladies, beer for the men."

Yasmine smiled. "Totally sounds like a feast to remember. You should be a chef."

"I keep telling her that," my sister snorted. "It's actually her dream."

Blushing profusely, I pushed my sister off the island. "Let's get to work. Yasmine, you can do the stir fry chicken strips. Add some tomatoes, onion, garlic and peppers to that mix. Everything you need is in the fridge," I said as I looked at her. I glanced at my sister who wore a sheepish look on her face. "Since you can't cook to save your life, you're going to do the salad. Plain and simple, not even a ten year old can mess that up." Hadassah slapped me upside the head causing me to laugh at her dispense. "I, on the other hand, will do the fettuccini, the lemon sauce and garlic bread."

We moved through the kitchen with ease, like we were one well oiled machine. Soon, we had everything set out. We called the boys to help us move the dishes into the dining area which was an exact replica of the one at Devareaux Castle only a little smaller to hold two limos.

"Wow, this smells good," Landon stated as he sat down next to Hadassah.

"Well, I would love to say 'thank you, darling' and give you a big wet kiss but this creation is actually my sister's," Hadassah said.

Beside me, Tristan glanced at me. "What is it?"

"Well, we have fettuccini with stir fry chicken strips all dressed in a lemon sauce, garlic bread and a salad," I listed.

"Amazing," he said, his face filled with awe.

We quickly dove into the food, the delicious scent and the hunger pangs hitting us. When we came up for air, our plates were almost empty.

"So, that was an interesting turn of events this evening," Landon said as he shattered the silence that surrounded us.

Tristan glared at his brother. "No kidding. Married, Landon? You left single and came back married."

Landon glanced at my sister before grabbing her hand and linking his fingers with hers. "It was a spontaneous decision but I love her. Ever since Heaven introduced us to get her sister a job."

Bryson laughed. "You two acted like you both had the plague during the week for Heaven's birthday. How is this love?"

"Sometimes it can't be helped," Hadassah said as she stared lovingly at her new husband.

I was happy for my sister. She finally found someone to settle down with. Granted, that person was as equally crazy as she was but I think that they both balanced each other. Landon was a very funny guy who saw the best in people. Hadassah was a crazy wildcat with a natural instinct to protect others. They were good for each other.

"I think it is perfect," I said. "A match made in Heaven."

Smirking, my sister folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, you're trying to be funny. The best match made in Heaven is you and Tristan."

Tapping her hand on the table like she was in a heated debate, Yasmine exclaimed, "I agree! You are perfect! When my big brother told me that he and Heaven were together, I believe my direct quote was 'Thank God! About freaking time!'"

The table erupted in laughter.

"What! How can you say that, Yas?" Tristan playfully glared at his sibling.

"Oh come off it, Tristan!" Landon yelled as he took a sip of his beer. "You literally ran to my office freaking out about your new, very hot assistant. You had a huge crush on Heaven ever since she stepped foot in your office for a job interview!"

My jaw dropped. I looked at the gorgeous man sitting beside me, secretly loving the blush that spread like wildfire across his face. "You had a crush on me?"

Tristan glanced at me before shrugging his shoulders. "Well, you are very beautiful, intelligent, funny, and witty; how could I not like you?"

Yasmine and Hadassah made cooing noises and batted their eyelids, waving their hands in front of their faces like fans. I giggled while Tristan glared at them causing Landon and Bryson to burst out laughing.

"Oh come on!" Tristan yelled. "You guys are making fun at me? Bryson is the whipped one!"

Bryson stopped laughing and glared at Tristan who was smugly smirking.

"I am not whipped!" he exclaimed.

The conversation flowed freely at the table. We all jabbed and poked fun at each other. Sighing, I looked around the table. This was what we needed. Bryson and Yasmine. Landon and Hadassah. Tristan and I. We needed this, the chance to be free. The chance to be ourselves without worrying about what society thought. The chance not to care about anyone but ourselves for a minute or two.

The chance to pretend we were free.