Jaxon shook his head at her, but he was smiling while he did it. “I’ve never known anyone who liked food so much.”
“I think my grandfather is the same way, but he doesn’t let it show in public,” Bryn said.
“That is the Blue way of life,” Jaxon said. “Give nothing away in public.”
“Why?” Bryn asked. “Why is it so important to act perfect?”
“It just is. Blues are responsible for keeping the world in order, which means we must appear to have everything under control all of the time.”
“But that’s unrealistic.”
“Not to be rude, but until you came along, everyone believed the Directorate was in total control.”
“Don’t blame me,” she said. “I just pulled back the curtain. I didn’t cause the problem.”
“Right, but before you showed up, even I believed they were all-powerful and could do no wrong. They were very good at presenting that image. Now everyone knows they aren’t perfect, but the Directorate is still responsible for keeping everyone safe.”
“I know that. I’m impressed with how quickly the Directorate has assimilated. They aren’t preaching Clan purity anymore and they’re far more accepting of hybrids and throwbacks than I ever thought they’d be.”
Jaxon glanced out at the pond like he was checking to see how close the rest of the group was. “My father isn’t having the easiest time adjusting. Your grandfather, due in no small part to you, is leading the charge.”
A sense of pride filled Bryn’s chest. “I’m glad to hear that. Now if I could only get him to speak to my mother.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Loyalty is hugely important in our world.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. “Really, I had no idea.” It’s not like she was a complete outsider anymore.
“I know you’re aware of that, but I’m not sure you know how deep it runs.”
“What I keep coming back to is the fact that I wouldn’t be here if my mom hadn’t run off.” She pointed at Jaxon. “If you make some comment about how you’d be better off if I wasn’t here, I will accidentally spill my hot cocoa on you.”
“Even if I said it, I wouldn’t really mean it.” Jaxon grabbed her free hand that wasn’t holding the mug.
Warmth bloomed in her chest and it had nothing to do with the hot cocoa. If they were alone, now would be the perfect time for Jaxon to kiss her.
He stood. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Okay.” She set her mug on the bench and let him pull her to her feet. Should she tell her grandparents where they were going? That would kind of ruin the moment she and Jaxon might be having, so she shelved the idea.
Hand in hand, they walked down one of the slate paths back into the trees with the fairy lights. “This place is amazing.”
“This has always been my favorite part of the house. I used to spend a lot of time out here.”
“Doing what?”
They walked down a path and into a stand of trees. Several single swings and a double swing where two people could sit, like a porch swing, were suspended from the trees. There was also a staircase that spiraled around a tree and led up to a walkway suspended between the trees, high up in the branches.
“Can we go up?” Bryn asked.
“Sure.”
The spiral steps were easy to climb, but the walkway was higher up in the trees than it appeared from below.
“What do you think?” Jaxon asked.
“I think it’s the perfect place to hide from the world.” Wait a minute. “You made fun of me last year when I said I wanted a treehouse.”
“This isn’t a treehouse, it’s a far superior tree bridge.”
“Right,” Bryn mocked. “That makes sense.”
Jaxon tugged her back toward the platform of the first tree. “There’s more.” Around the back side of the tree there was a bench. “If you don’t feel like walking, you can sit.”
“As one does when one is tired from adventures on their tree bridge.” She sat and relaxed back against the trunk of the tree, very aware of Jaxon’s proximity and the heat coming off his body.
“Exactly,” he said.
She laughed. From inside the tree the fairy lights seemed even more magical. “You know this is basically a tree house without walls.”
“No. That doesn’t work for me,” he said.
Bryn rolled her eyes but didn’t comment.
“I saw that,” Jaxon said.
“You were meant to.” Joking around with him felt comfortable. “This is nice.”
“The tree?” he asked.
“No.” She pointed back and forth between them. “This. Us. No pretenses or small talk…just us.”
“Speaking of us.” He leaned in, slowly, like he was giving her a chance to move away. She met him halfway and pressed her mouth against his. Time seemed to slow down as his hand touched her cheek and then cradled the back of her head. Heat thrummed between them, burning bright as the kiss grew, which was strange yet somehow right.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bryn waited for Ivy and Clint at the Snack Shack, per Clint’s decree, at eleven o’clock on the twenty-eighth. Actually, it was twenty til eleven, but she’d been so excited to see her friends she was early. The two guards who had driven her here were stationed in the lot across the street, keeping an eye on everything just in case evil Silver dragon-pires decided to make an appearance.
She’d worked her way through half a bucket of caramel corn by the time her friends arrived. Ivy came over and hugged her before sitting down. Clint grabbed a handful of caramel corn and shoved it in his mouth as he took his seat.
“Hungry?” Bryn asked.
“I told him he couldn’t badger you with questions about Jaxon, so I think he’s stuffing his face as a preventative measure,” Ivy said.
“You can ask as many questions as you want,” Bryn said. “Not that I have any answers.”
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked. “I thought things were falling into place. You’re on good terms with your parents, your grandparents, and Jaxon. From what you said, even Ferrin is playing nice.”
“I know, but there’s this voice in my head that won’t let me relax and enjoy and my life. It keeps waiting for the next tragedy to hit.”
“I think everyone has that voice now,” Clint said. “I’m grateful we made it through Christmas without any major catastrophes.”
Ivy arched her eyebrows at Clint. “Well, there was that one incident.”
“No.” He smacked his hands over his ears. “No, there was not.”
Ivy laughed.
Clint dropped his hands. “You wouldn’t think it was so funny if it was your parents we’d walked in on.”
“Walked in on?” It took Bryn a moment to understand. “Oh my God. Seriously?”
“Clint was going to spend the evening at my house, but he forgot the tin of peanut butter fudge he was supposed to bring over, so we both went back to his house to pick it up and let’s just say, his parents were making merry under the mistletoe in the kitchen.”
Bryn cringed. “In the kitchen?”
Ivy laughed. “Thank goodness they didn’t realize we were in the house. We snuck back out, abandoning the fudge. There were more than enough Christmas cookies at my house to make up the difference.”
“Now that you’ve shared with Bryn,” Clint said, “we will never speak of this again. I have to spend time in that kitchen with my parents every day over break. Rehashing the nightmare is harshing my ability to live in denial.”
“Okay,” Ivy said. “I won’t mention it again.”
“I don’t have any stories that are nearly as entertaining,” Bryn said.
“Nothing strange happened at Christmas dinner with Ferrin?” Clint said. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It was weird because it’s like he switched modes to some sort of host who was trying to impress us. I have to admit, the setting was magical. On a side note, I did learn that I sucked at ice skating.” She told them about the frozen pond Ferrin had added for Christmas.
“It’s like Ferrin lives in some alternate reality where he can create whatever he wants,” Clint said. “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like it when he can’t control situations.”
“Interesting logic,” Bryn said. “And you’re probably not wrong.”
After lunch, they decided to go for a walk down Main Street.