All or Nothing at All Page 48

After the party.

She’d talk to Tristan after the party. She’d tell him everything, and they’d talk and come up with a game plan for the future. In time, he’d have to realize she had done the only thing possible. Becca had to come first. Always.

Sydney didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

chapter fourteen


The mansion looked like it had puked up the color pink.

Tristan placed the platter of chips on the table, snatching a crunchy Cheez Doodle, and tried not to be intimidated. The estrogen pumping through the air was enough to keep him in check. Between the elaborate Happy Birthday signs and the pink glitter, streamers, and gaily wrapped favors, he didn’t know where to look. Little girls in elaborate gowns and high-heeled “glass” slippers seemed to be everywhere. They carried purses and wands and all wore tiaras.

So did the grown women.

He figured he’d keep to the background, but Syd and Morgan kept him busy hustling food, fixing broken costume jewelry clasps, and refilling the bright pink punch bowl. Fake gems cluttered every table surface, and they’d already had a scavenger hunt for some type of magic mirror. Poisoned red apples bobbed in a jewel-encrusted bucket. The strains of “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” exploded from the speakers.

He was kind of in Disney hell.

“I’m scared.”

Tristan turned toward Dalton. “Be cool,” he said. “Stick to the walls, where they won’t notice you.”

His brother gave a shudder. “I tried, but they found me and made me be the prince. Raven tried to make me wear tights, but I told her no way. She’s still a little pissed.”

Tristan laughed. “Where is Raven anyway?”

“She wanted to finish up at My Place before picking up her costume. She still won’t tell me what she’s going to be, but . . .”

“What?” Dalton was looking at the front door, suddenly mute. Tristan glanced over to see what he was missing and stopped cold.

Oh, yeah. This party was getting outrageous, and there wasn’t even any alcohol.

Raven was dressed up as Maleficent. Clad in a long black gown, with an elaborate headpiece that gave her black horns, she held a scepter and surveyed the crowd like she’d flown in on her wings and decided to crash a princess party. Her dark hair was pulled back tight from her face, emphasizing scarlet lips, pale skin, and heavily accented eyes that burned like dark coals.

He wouldn’t have recognized her if it hadn’t been for her wicked wink as four girls gasped and stared at her in pure wonder.

Her throaty voice hit the room with command. “Whose birthday is it today?”

Becca moved forward. Her turquoise gown swished around her ankles, and her hair glittered in the light, due to some heavy-handed sparkles. Tristan bet they’d never wash out. His suit had been unsalvageable from the pink sparkle incident, and it had been one of his favorites. “It’s mine,” Becca squeaked.

Staying in character, Raven lifted the scepter, her face carved in the arrogant lines of a true queen. “I’ve come to bestow a special gift on the princess. Please kneel.”

Mouth open, Becca knelt on the floor and bowed her head. The audience tittered and giggled in excitement. Sydney was grinning and videotaping the whole thing.

Raven lowered her scepter and touched the top of Becca’s head lightly. “I offer you the gift of wisdom, to decipher between good and evil. I also offer the power of bravery, to face the darkness and rise above, to be the guiding light to others and yourself. Do you accept these gifts, princess?”

“Damn, she’s good,” Cal whispered.

Dalton looked dazed, as if he’d been hit over the head with a blunt object. Tristan pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

“I accept them,” Becca said reverently.

Raven urged her to rise and kissed both of her cheeks. “Happy birthday, Rebecca Seymour.”

The girl’s smile was pure sunshine. Tristan’s heart did a weird little flip-flop. “Thank you, Raven—er, Maleficent!”

The girls flocked around, touching her gown, chattering nonstop, while his brothers took in the scene. Cal cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I had no idea grown women who dress up as princesses were hot as hell.”

Dalton shook his head as if trying to clear it. “My woman is a complete sexpot,” he declared. “And if we disappear later, don’t look for us. If you do, I’ll beat your asses.”

“Same here,” Cal shot back. Morgan was dressed in a blinding-white dress, supposedly someone from the movie Frozen. With her blond hair, pink lips, and a silver tiara, she looked like some type of icy queen. “Do you know how bad I want to get her dirty?”

Tristan groaned. “We’re at a kid’s birthday party, dudes. Get your minds out of the damn gutter.”

“Sorry,” Cal said. “Course I saw the way you looked at Sydney. Seems like you want to be her beast, man. Bad.”

“You’re sick.”

Cal and Dalton hooted with laughter. Tristan shook his head but had to take the jabs. Because they were right.

He sucked at his princess knowledge; all he knew was her gorgeous yellow dress was cut low in the front, nipped in at the waist, and spilled to the ground in satin glory. The thin material hugged and emphasized every curve. Her gorgeous hair seemed lit with flame, and she’d put some gold sparkles over her skin, which made him desperate to find every single one.

With his tongue.

God, she turned him on. And since their talk last night, his arousal was mixed with a craving to go deeper, exploring every facet of her that had been hidden these past years. It was sex and need and hunger and tenderness all rolled into one. It was glorious and sucky and scary as hell.

But he was gonna own his shit this time around.

This time, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Sydney drifted over, turning off the videotape. “And that is why I still have a girl crush on Raven,” she said with a grin. “I could never pull that off. She’s such a badass.”

“You’re not supposed to. That’s what cool aunts are for.” He ran a finger down her soft cheek, catching a few sparkles with his thumb. “You’re the one who pulled this entire party together. The one in the background who makes sure your daughter gets everything she needs without any thank-yous. You, Sydney Greene-Seymour, have a whole lot of badass in you.”

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