One Night

Chapter 176

Audrey

After our little adventure in the basement, Edwin and I made our way upstairs. Over a hearty Christmas Eve breakfast of syrupy waffles, fresh fruit, and crispy bacon, Edwin looked at me curiously.

“Not that I’m complaining, but… why did you do that?” he asked, a slight flush on his cheeks. He sipped his coffee, although I could tell that he was just trying to hide his red face.

I grinned, taking a big bite of my waffle. Despite the flavor of the syrup and butter, I could still taste him on my tongue more than anything—that savory yet sweet flavor of his pleasure. Our mate bond still thrummed with the aftershocks of it all.

“What can I say? I find it hot when you’re all sweaty and shirtless Then, more seriously, I added, “I hope I didn’t cross any boundaries, though. I know you have a complicated history with that room.”

To my relief. Edwin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“No. you didn’t cross any boundaries,” he replied gently. “If anything, I really enjoyed it. It… it helped me relax, actually. I’m glad we can have fun together like that.”

Relieved, I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “So am L”

After breakfast, we decided to spend the day decorating for Christmas. Edwin admitted he had never really bothered before. but I was determined to change that.

“Come on,” I said, pulling him toward the back door. “We’ll need a tree first.”

We trudged through the snowy forest behind the mansion, searching for the perfect Christmas tree. After what felt like hours, I spotted it-a massive pine that towered over us. The branches were nice and full, and it smelled sweetly of pine and

sap

“I want that one!” I exclaimed, pointing inside my woolen mitten.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, his mouth hidden behind his red scarf. “Are you sure you want that one? It’s huge.”

“Exactly.” I grinned. “The bigger the better.

With a sigh and a fond shake of his head, Edwin grabbed the saw and set to work cutting down the tree. It shook half the forest when it finally fell, sending snow and pine needles up in a big plume of white.

Both of us had to leap out of the way when it came down, Edwin grabbing me around my waist and yanking me away just before it hit the ground. I giggled, hiding my face in his coat from the sudden flurry of snow that flew up around us.

Together, with a lot of effort, we dragged it back to the house. It was a struggle to get it through the door, and when we finally set it up in the living room, the top pushed and bent against the ceiling.

“I think we might have gone a bit overboard,” Edwin chuckled.

“Nonsense,” I replied, already digging through boxes of ornaments. “It’s just right.”

literally doesn’t fit in here. Look at the top! Why did you ever want that one?”

I smirked. “Because it reminded me of you. Big and too tall for this world.”

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Chapter 176

Edwin snorted at that, but didn’t argue anymore.

We spent the next few hours decorating the tree and the rest of the house. Garlands were draped over every available surface, lights t***ed from the windows, and the scent of pine and c**on filled the air.

As we worked to string popcorn and cranberries together, Edwin admitted, “I’ve never decorated this house for any holiday

before.”

“Well, I won’t let you get away with that anymore. If I’m going to be the lady of this house someday, I must insist on decorating for Christmas at the very least I shot him a teasing look out of the corners of my eyes.

Edwin’s gaze softened at my words, and he set down his string and tugged me close to press a kiss against the top of my head while I worked. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I’ll have to acquiesce to the lady’s wishes, won’t I?”

From the doorway. Hadley grinned, a cup of hot cocoa steaming between his hands. “It’s nice to finally see someone put Mr. Brooks in his place,” he chuckled.

As night fell, Edwin and I settled in front of the fireplace, our work finally done. We sipped on cocoa mixed with Baileys and munched on too many cookies, feeling warm and content. The sweet, c**my liquor heated me from the inside, making my head fuzzy in the most pleasant of ways.

“Tell me about your Christmases growing up, Edwin said, his arm draped around my shoulders.

I leaned into him, thinking back as I munched on yet another cookie despite the stomach ache that was beginning to set in. “Well. When I was ten, Meredith bought me my first sewing machine.”

Edwin listened intently as I continued, “I was so excited, I sewed all night until I fell asleep right at the machine. My first creation was this lopsided mess that fell apart within days, but I loved making it so much that I never stopped sewing after

that”

“Did you teach yourself?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Meredith knew how to sew. She taught me pretty much everything I know now.”

Edwin was quiet for a moment, then suddenly stood up, his tall form swaying slightly from the alcohol. He held out his hand toward me. “Come with me. I want to show you something

Curious, I took his hand and let him lead me upstairs, my own footsteps

long hallway, we stopped in front of a door I hadn’t noticed before. Edwin opened it with a flourish and flicked on the light, bbling from the alcohol. Finally, at the end of a revealing a room even bigger than the sewing room in his apartment.

I gasped as I stepped inside, turning slowly.

The room was filled with bolts of fabric in every color and texture imaginable. Sewing machines, mannequins, and various tools lined the walls. An enormous round window sat against one wall, shafts of silvery moonlight bleeding onto the hardwood floor.

It was a seamstress’s dream. It was my dream.

‘Edwin, this is… incredible,” I breathed, running my fingers over i bolt of silk that was green from one angle and blue from another, like a peacock’s feathers.

He smiled, clearly pleased by my reaction. “What would you like to make?”

blushed, an idea forming in my alcohol-fuzzy mind. “Well, I’ve been wanting a new skirt lately-an ankle-length plaid

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Chapter 176

one, with pleats. Perfect for Christmas. Maybe I could wear it to the party.”

Edwin’s eyes lit up. He moved to a shelf and pulled out a length of tartan fabric. “How about this?”

It was perfect-deep greens and reds with gold threading. I nodded enthusiastically.

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Without another word, Edwin set his mug aside and began to drape the fabric over a mannequin, pinning it with practiced precision. I watched in awe for a moment before joining him, making adjustments here and there.

Our fingers brushed as we worked, sending little sparks through me each time. The radio played softly in the background, Christmas carols mixing with the snip of scissors and the whir of the sewing machine and idle chatter and laughter.

As the night wore on and we got progressively drunker, our work became less precise but no less enthusiastic. We laughed at our mistakes, started over multiple times, and somehow managed to create something that actually resembled a skirt. Eventually, however, the warmth of the room, the soft music, and the alcohol in our systems began to take their toll. I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and Edwin’s movements became slower.

Without really meaning to, we found ourselves drifting off, our heads resting on the worktable amidst scraps of fabric and spools of thread. The last thing I felt before slipping into a pleasant slumber was a muscular arm draping over my back

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