“Is he right?”
“If I were in his shoes, I’d probably agree.”
My selfish need screams for me to push him further, but common sense pulls me back. If the past is a predictor of the future, he’ll run, and I might not see him again. “If you leave again, I’m done.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Then don’t,” I answer, the tears starting to dry up. “Does this mean you’re staying? Besides, Christmas is in two days, and I wasn’t looking forward to spending it alone.”
He wraps his arms tightly around me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
MONDAY MORNING COMES TOO SOON, but it’s okay when I realize I’m wrapped in two strong arms in a nice, warm bed. Even better, it’s Christmas Eve, which means I have the next two days off.
Blake feels me shift and pulls me further into him. We talked most of the day yesterday, cleared most of the skeletons from the closet. We can only go forward from here. I let him know what I need, and he promised to stay. It can only get better from here.
His lips press to my neck, sending a tingle down my spine. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
His hand slips under my T-shirt, tracing small circles around my belly button. “I like waking up with you in my arms.”
“I like waking up in your arms,” I admit. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.
“I forgot to ask you yesterday . . . what are we doing tomorrow, for Christmas?”
“Mallory and I were going to Skype and watch A Christmas Story.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“That would be a stupid thing to lie about.”
“Look,” he says, brushing his thumb along my hip. “Pencil me in. We’ll order a pizza and watch a real Christmas movie.”
I smile. “There is no other Christmas movie.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says, kissing the back of my neck again.
After a few moments, he starts to drift back to sleep as I cozy into him. Falling asleep in his arms last night was nice. No sex. No arguments or hurt feelings. It was just us being us for the first time.
When I’m convinced I won’t fall back asleep, I slide out of his arms. I make myself some coffee and curl up on the end of the couch, enjoying a rare peaceful morning. The holidays are a time to look back, and this year has certainly given me plenty to think about. I have so much to be thankful for.
“Hey,” Blake mumbles, stepping out of the bedroom. “My bed is cold without you.”
“Sorry. You’re welcome to join me,” I say, patting the spot next to me.
“Breakfast . . . I can’t live without my breakfast.”
“I guess you’re allowed since I’m awake,” I tease, watching him rummage through the refrigerator. He fries eggs while I watch the snow fall outside. If this is domestication, sign me up.
“I kind of wish I’d gone home for Christmas,” I say when he finally joins me on the couch after breakfast. He brings a full box of chocolate-covered cherries with him. I’m happy being here with him, but it’s not the same.
“What would you be doing now, if you were home?”
I smile, thinking about sitting at the table, watching Mom prepare dinner while she hums her favorite holiday music. “I’d probably be helping Mom in the kitchen and then talk Dad’s ear off while he attempts to watch football.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And you miss that?”
“Yeah, I do.” It’s not like Nebraska is a rare diamond that can’t be found anywhere else. It’s just where my heart is. “Why didn’t you go home?” I ask, curious.
He shrugs. “Since Mallory wasn’t coming home, my parents decided to go to Hawaii. I really can’t do Christmas in a Speedo. Besides, the holidays aren’t the same without snow.”
“I’m the same way. I think one of the things I miss most is our house—the way it looks when it’s covered in snow. It’s beautiful this time of year.” I stand, setting my coffee on the table. “Let me grab a picture so you can see what I’m talking about.”
I pull the scrapbook from my nightstand and hand it to Blake. Pages don’t have to be turned because it’s front and center on the cover. “It sort of reminds me of the mountain cabin my parents used to take us to in Colorado,” he remarks, running his finger along the photo’s edges.
“I thought I was a city girl at heart, but the longer I’m away, the more I wonder if there’s any truth to that.”
He studies the photo for a second longer then looks up at me through his thick lashes. “It’s not the place you miss; it’s the people. When it comes down to it, they’re all that matters.”
“When did you start writing for Hallmark?”
He grins, sliding my scrapbook off his lap. “You think my thoughts are worth a greeting card?”
“They’re worth something.”
His eyes search mine, the way he looks at me pulling at my heart like a magnet. I want so badly to kiss him, to let his lips erase all the bad and remind me of when things were good. It’s one thing we haven’t done yet. This whole taking it slow thing sucks.
We watch a couple movies, laughing a lot along the way.
“Are you getting hungry?” he asks, breaking the spell.
“Eating something besides chocolate would be good.”
“I’m going to jump in the shower quick. Why don’t you order Chinese?” he suggests.
“Anything in particular?”
He laughs. “I’ll let you have your way since it’s Christmas Eve.”
“How kind of you,” I say as I watch him walk away.
“Don’t say I didn’t give you anything!” he yells as he disappears into his bedroom.
I order the Chinese and settle back into my spot on the couch. As I look toward the window, I’m surprised to see the snow falling harder. Oversized flakes stick to the glass. It’s the kind of quiet view that let’s you pretend you’re anywhere. Not that there’s anywhere else I’d rather be right now.
Laying my head against the back of the couch, I listen to the shower run in the distance. I wonder if Blake thinks of me while the warm water washes over his body like I’m always thinking of him.
Home Alone plays on mute. Frank Sinatra croons softly through my iPod, drowning out the sound of the shower whenever Frank hits a high note.
I relax.
My mind drifts.
And just as I’m about to fall to sleep, the doorbell rings, causing me to jump. The food is here, and Blake’s not even out of the shower.
“Coming!” I yell, making my way to the door.
When I finally open it, the shock of my life waits on the other side. Pierce is standing there, holding a gift bag in his hand.
“Lila.” His eyes roam the length of my body before coming back up.
“I wasn’t expecting you.”
He grins wide. Sexy. Charming. Pierce. “I didn’t like the thought of you spending the holiday alone.”
I’m not, I think to myself. Shit.
“I brought you something,” he adds, handing me the red and silver bag.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to. Open it.”
I fiddle with the silver ribbon, pulling it loose. Inside is a thermos with NYC scrolled across the center.
He laughs nervously, combing his fingers through his hair. “There’s more. Twist the lid.”
My fingers tremble as I do. The sweet smell hits me as I stare down at whipped cream with a maraschino cherry on top. “Frozen hot chocolate.” He’s so thoughtful I almost want to cry.
“I ordered a whole canister online.” He holds out another bag. “This should get you by until you make it back to New York.”
I set everything down on the counter near the door and throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
He returns the hug, pressing his nose into my hair. “You’re welcome. Hey, I was thinking about going ice-skating in the park. Do you want to join me?”