Filthy Rich Santas

44. Ryder

44

RYDER

My heart is pounding as we leave Lana’s parents’ house, adrenaline coursing through my veins and my emotions a total mess. I keep my arm wrapped tightly around her as we quickly walk to the SUV, partly to support her, but also because focusing on her helps me keep all those wild emotions in check.

I didn’t expect things to blow up like that. None of us did. But dealing with the aftermath will have to wait for later. Right now, she’s the only thing that matters.

As we pile into the SUV, with Tristan taking the wheel and Beckett joining Lana and me in the back, I can feel the tension radiating off all of us like it’s a living force. I’m definitely not the only one on edge from all that bullshit, and we’re barely out of the driveway when Lana’s composure starts to crumble.

A sob escapes her, and I pull her closer, letting her bury her face in my chest. Beckett’s jaw hardens, and I’m sure he’s currently wishing he hadn’t let us stop him from pounding the shit out of Wade.

He puts a hand on her back and he rubs slow, soothing circles there as I stroke her hair.

“S-S-Sorry,” she stutters out, clutching my shirt.

“It’s okay, love,” I murmur. “Let it out.”

“We’ve got you,” Beckett adds.

She drags in one more shuddering breath before the floodgates open, all the pent-up emotions she’s been holding back for who knows how long pouring out as she cries.

I catch Tristan looking back at us in the rearview mirror, his eyes tight and worried, but I give him a subtle shake of my head. It fucking guts me to have her so torn up, but at the same time, this release is probably exactly what she needs right now.

It’s a good thing, even if it stokes my rage at everyone who helped contribute to it.

Finally, her sobs start to fade, and I clear my throat.

“We owe you an apology,” I start, knowing for sure I speak for all of us. “We shouldn’t have blurted out the fact that we were fucking like that without talking to you first.”

“We got carried away,” Tristan adds from the front seat, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror again. “It wasn’t our place to out our relationship in front of your family.”

“No.” Lana’s voice is hoarse but fierce as she lifts her head. “Don’t apologize. None of you. It’s not your fault.”

Beckett grunts, and she twists to face him, covering his mouth with her hand before he can argue the point.

“I said no.”

He stares at her, then captures her wrist, kisses the fingers she’s got pressed to his lips, and pulls her hand down to hold it over his heart.

“Thank you,” Lana whispers, drawing in a shuddering breath and wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

Then she straightens her spine and looks between the three of us with a determination blazing in her eyes.

“You were standing up for me,” she says softly. “And even though things… escalated, I don’t blame you for any of it. If anyone is to blame, it’s Wade for thinking he could just show up and take me back like that, like I’d be grateful after the way he treated me.”

My blood starts to boil at the reminder, and Beckett growls under his breath. But we both hold our tongues, because Lana’s not done.

“It’s my parents’ fault too,” she goes on, her voice hardening. “They’ve made me feel like I had to keep my whole life a secret, everything that actually mattered to me, just to earn their love. And when things went sideways tonight, they didn’t check to see what I wanted. They didn’t… didn’t check on me at all.”

I tighten my arm around her as I remember the way her voice cracked when she called them out on their reaction to hearing about her lupus, a surge of protectiveness washing over me.

I can see Beckett’s hand clenching around hers as he has his own reaction to that, and Tristan’s knuckles go white on the steering wheel at the same time.

A feeling of bone-deep solidarity hits me, and I’m suddenly struck by how fucking right it is, after a whole fucking lifetime of avoiding getting trapped in a serious relationship, to be in one now.

Not just any relationship, and not just with Lana, but a relationship with my friends with Lana.

There’s no one on this earth I trust to have my back more than the men in this car, and now that extends to protecting her too. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t want her if they didn’t, because nothing could make me not want to be with Lana. Ever. But sharing her with Tristan and Beckett?

It’s not just perfect; it’s whatever word there is for something that’s even better than that.

She looks between us again, a little smile hovering on her plush lips. “But you three?” she says softly. “I’m not mad at any of you for what you said back there. I don’t know what it would have taken for me to come clean to my family about our relationship, but no matter how it came about, I’m glad that it happened.

“I don’t want to hide how I feel about being with you. All of us together like this may not be what people expect, but I’m not ashamed of it. You three are… well, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Fuck,” Beckett says softly, almost reverently.

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut too, and I pull her closer, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Ditto,” I whisper.

Lana sighs, still subdued but more relaxed, and a few minutes later, we pull up to Tristan’s grandma’s house.

She’s expecting us since Tristan texted her on the way to fill her in, so it’s no surprise to see her already waiting for us on the porch. And as soon as we pile out of the car, she immediately heads toward Lana, tugging her right out of my arms and enveloping her in a massive hug.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Meg says, her voice warm and comforting. “You poor thing. Come here.”

Lana melts into the embrace, and I can see her shoulders start to shake again. But this time, it feels different. Like she’s releasing the last of her pent-up emotions in a safe space. Getting something she needs, something more parental, that the guys and I can’t offer her.

“Thank you,” Lana whispers, her voice muffled against Meg’s shoulder.

Meg pulls back, cupping Lana’s face in her hands. “You don’t need to thank me, dear. Now, let’s get you all inside and warm.”

We follow her into her cozy living room, settling onto various chairs and sofas. As soon as we do, Baldwin races into the room wearing another one of those tiny knitted sweaters Meg is always making for him.

His claws skitter on the floor for a moment, and with a shrill yap, he makes a beeline for Lana.

“Oh, hey, you,” she says, her face lighting up.

The ugly little fucker yaps at her again, then hops up onto her lap, curling up there like he thinks he owns it. He gazes up at her with big, soulful eyes that I’ve gotta admit are pretty cute.

“Very festive,” Lana says, stroking the hot pink and neon green Christmas sweater he’s wearing.

“Baldwin just loves the holidays,” Meg says, making me snort since we all know she’s the one who chooses his daily sweaters.

Tristan meets my eyes, holding back a fond smile, but Meg and Lana carry on talking about the dog like they don’t notice, Lana’s body relaxing more and more as she pets the little guy.

“Did Tristan tell you why, um, why we’re here?” Lana asks Meg after a minute.

Meg pats her knee, her expression warm. “A little bit. I don’t need any details you don’t want to share, though. You’re always welcome here.”

Lana looks down at Baldwin. “I think I’d like to share them, if you don’t mind. I feel a little… raw right now.”

“And sometimes talking helps,” Meg says with a nod.

Lana smiles at her, brushing away a tear that wells up in her eye, then starts to recount all the shit we just went through again, getting it off her chest. As she fills Meg in on what happened, I marvel at the easy acceptance radiating from Tristan’s grandma. There’s no judgment in her eyes, just concern and love.

Seeing that kind of support does something to me. I think it does something to Lana too, because as she winds down, a change comes over her.

“I’m proud of you.” Meg pulls her close, making Baldwin grumble and scramble off Lana’s lap as they hug.

“Thank you,” Lana says, her tears drying up as Meg lets her go, replaced by a fierce determination that lights up her eyes. She sits up straighter, her chin lifted slightly, and I can practically see the weight of her parents’ expectations falling away from her shoulders as she takes a deep breath and exhales.

“And I’m… I’m done,” she says, her voice steady and strong. “I’m done trying to please them, done living my life by their rules.”

She said it before. Hell, she said it straight to their faces. But something about the conviction in her voice right now feels like it just sinks into my soul.

Our relationship coming to light like that may have been rough, but I don’t doubt for a second that she meant it when she said she doesn’t regret it. Seeing her come into her own like this is sexy as hell, and it has my chest tightening up with a mixture of pride and admiration. Watching her find this inner strength, this resolve to stand up for herself and what she wants, is fucking incredible.

It’s inspirational.

My relationship with my own parents is so messed up that I know it’s beyond redemption, and I’ve grappled with that—with their indifference and neglect—for years. The pain of growing up in a house full of wealth but devoid of warmth, raised by a revolving door of nannies while my parents lived their lives as if I was just an afterthought, has left scars inside me just as deep and permanent as the ones Tristan wears on his skin.

The shit Lana has gone through with her own parents is a different flavor, but the same damn recipe. They never outright neglected her, and they were there for her in some ways, but they did neglect the most important thing. Her heart.

“What?” she asks, catching my eye and blushing the sexiest fucking shade of pink I’ve ever seen. “You’re smiling at me like…”

“Like you’re incredible? That’s because you are.”

Her dimple pops out as she grins, and Meg gives me a fond look as she rises to her feet.

“And on that note, let me get us all something to snack on.”

Tristan hops up, offering to help her, but before either one of them can make a move toward the kitchen, the doorbell rings.

We all freeze, exchanging glances.

“Grandma?” Tristan says. “Are you expecting someone else?”

“Expecting? No. But I’ll never turn away carolers,” she says as Baldwin goes zipping toward the door, yapping away.

It’s not carolers, though. It’s Caleb.

Lana’s body stiffens with tension as Meg leads him into the living room, giving him a welcoming pat on the shoulder as she urges him to join us.

As soon as he takes a seat, Meg scoops up Baldwin and heads into the kitchen, no doubt to prepare the snacks she mentioned.

“Caleb,” Lana whispers, her spine still straight but her voice quivering.

“Lana,” he replies, his face a storm of emotions as he stares back at her.

I’m immediately on edge. Which fucking sucks, because this is Caleb . I’m definitely not alone in that, though. Tristan and Beckett straighten up too, all of us instinctively moving closer to Lana.

“Just a heads up,” I say, my voice low. “You’re gonna want to think about whatever’s about to come out of your mouth next. Your sister’s been through enough tonight.”

Tristan backs me up, his usually gentle demeanor hardening. “If you’re here to give her a hard time?—”

“I’m not,” Caleb cuts him off, his gaze still fixed on Lana. Then he glances at each of us, his eyes narrowing a little. “I just… I need to understand what’s going on.”

“We may be friends—” Beckett starts.

“Exactly,” Caleb snaps before he can get any further. “You’re my friends, so what the actual fuck?”

“Language, boys,” Meg calls out from the kitchen.

Caleb’s mouth works open and closed for a moment with no sound coming out, then he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks Lana, his voice tight with hurt. “About any of it? The lupus. Jesus , Lana. Lupus? How long have you known? And… and this .” He waves a hand, taking in all four of us. “I’m your big brother.”

“I know,” she says quietly.

“So why am I just hearing about everything tonight? Like that .”

She runs a hand down her face. “I mean, in my defense, it’s not how I was planning on telling you.”

“ Were you planning on telling me?”

She sighs, chewing on her lower lip for a second, and it takes everything I have not to butt into this conversation. We need to have our own talk with Caleb, but right now, this is between Lana and her brother.

Her eyes get glassy again, but no tears fall as she lifts her chin. “I don’t know. I think so. But honestly, Caleb, it’s not all about you. My lupus diagnosis is new, and I’m still coming to terms with it. And me and the guys? That’s also new.”

Caleb grits his teeth, then huffs out a breath. “I mean, I’d hope so.” He eyes all three of us. “How new are we talking? Is this why you all offered to drive across the country with her?”

I roll my eyes as Tristan snorts and Beckett huffs out a breath, shaking his head.

Lana laughs. “I wish.” She bites her lip again. “I… really care about them.”

“All of them,” Caleb says flatly, not making it a question.

She gets that fierce, sexy fire in her eyes as she stares him down. “Yeah, Caleb. All of them. This is what makes me happy. They make me happy. And they are your friends, so I’d think you of all people would understand what amazing people they are.”

He holds her stare for a second, then slumps back in his seat, looking at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

Meg bustles back into the room with a tray of Christmas cookies and drinks. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Sorry, Grandma Meg,” Caleb mutters sheepishly. Then he looks back at Lana. “And you’re right. I do understand that these three guys… aren’t horrible.”

Beckett chuckles, and when Caleb’s hand twitches in his direction, I’d put money on Grandma Meg’s presence being the only reason he doesn’t flip Beckett off.

Which means our friendship is still okay.

At least, mostly.

Which is fair. I get that this shit caught him off guard, but I can see that he’s trying his best not to be a dick about it. He just has to wrap his head around it.

“I don’t want my relationship with the guys to affect your friendship,” Lana tells Caleb firmly. “But if it does, that’s your choice. Not mine, and not theirs. They mean everything to me, and I love you, Caleb, but I’m not giving them up.”

Caleb blinks at her for a moment, then smiles. “Well, damn. Who are you, and what have you done with my little sister?”

She laughs, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Then Caleb’s smile fades, and he leans forward, placing a hand on her arm.

“Actually, I shouldn’t joke about this. I feel like I didn’t really know about a lot of what you’ve been going through recently, and I’m sorry about that. I really am. I want to be someone you feel like you can tell this stuff to.”

“Thank you,” she says, squeezing his hand back tight.

“Although I’m not gonna lie, I may… need a minute to wrap my head around all of this.”

She smiles. “Okay.”

He looks over at me, then Beckett and Tristan. “I’m pretty sure I remember telling you guys that not one of you should make a move on her, but fuck—uh, sorry, Grandma Meg—but seriously, I wasn’t trying to imply that all three of you should do it instead.”

Tristan snickers, and Beckett’s resting-fuck-off face relaxes into something close to a smile.

“Who says it was us that made the move?” I joke, making Caleb groan and hold up a hand.

“TMI, man. I said I need a minute. I didn’t say I need you to tell me all the details.”

“None of us need those,” Meg says with a snort. “But what we do need are snickerdoodles.”

Baldwin barks excitedly, and she taps him lightly on the nose.

“I didn’t mean you, mister.”

That gets a laugh out of all of us, breaking the tension, and somehow we roll into talking about the season Caleb’s team is having, and then Lana shares a few stories from our road trip. Baldwin manages to con Beckett into feeding him a thumbprint-sized bite of cookie, which brings Meg’s wrath down on the man and cracks me the fuck up.

There’s still some tension with Caleb through all of it. Not everything is cool between us about what we’re doing with Lana, but it feels like we’ll get there. Still, it’s a much more pleasant evening than I would have predicted a few hours ago.

When Caleb gets up to leave, Meg touches his arm and stops him for a second. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow to celebrate Christmas with us?”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.”

“Me too,” Lana murmurs, catching his eye.

They smile at each other, putting some warmth in my chest. Then he leaves.