Page 40 of Lightness In My Dark

Mmm… wet and pummeled by Finn. My eyes closed, envisioning it, legs squeezing together to squash my arousal. Get a grip, Wren!

Finn stood in the backyard with only jeans, boots, and an open coat. As soon as he saw me, he couldn’t stop laughing.

“You look like Randy fromA Christmas Story. Don’t topple over or you’ll never get up.”

I rolled a snowball and threw it at him. It was more like a toss because my arms, clad in long johns, a T-shirt, sweater, and down coat, restricted movement. I also had difficulty dodging Finn in my Pillsbury Doughboy legs covered by yoga pants and jeans. The snowball missed Finn. He rolled and threw snowballs one after the other while my scarf muffled my screams. My hat, with a fur ball on top, dropped over my eyes. Between my screams, running around blindly, I fell laughing as Finn stood above me, holding a large snowball.

I stared up at him as he said, “You give up?”

I couldn’t let him get the best of me, especially since I hadn’t even landed one snowball on his sculpted body. His sweater rode up his torso, revealing his abs and the V-shape pointing down to the secret Santa I wished I had. On impulse, I nibbled on my lower lip, eyes wandering over his body, falling to his crotch.

My breath hitched as soon as I realized he stood there watching me, the snowball resting on his hip. Embarrassed, I spiraled to the side, stood, and smacked the snowball out of his arms. His mouth widened in surprise. I ran toward the French doors, but he grabbed hold of my waist, twisting me around before flipping me over his shoulder.

I was stunned. “Finn! Put me down.”

He continued walking toward the back of the property where the snow remained untouched. All I could see were his footprints in the virgin snow… and his firm butt. I thought I was going to die. My hands rested on his lower back, but I wanted to touch his glutes, the round firmness. I got dizzy.

Finn twisted me to where his one arm was under my legs and the other holding my back. I crossed my arms to avoid touching him and arousing myself. As cold as it was outside, a trickle of sweat glided down my spine. He placed me on the pier as we looked out at the frozen lake.

“Shall we?”

I gave him a concerned look. “Shall we what?”

Finn stepped out onto the lake. “Slide on the lake.” He walked back toward me and said, “Here, give me your hands.”

I squeezed them into my body. “No! It isn’t safe.”

He came over, pushed me out onto the lake, holding me from behind. “It’s clear ice, which means it’s stronger than snow ice and about four to five inches thick. More than enough to hold us.”

Like a toddler, I took small steps, wobbling from side to side. Finn grabbed my mitten hands and pulled me as I slid toward him. We spun around, my head back, a smile plastered to my face. The wind took my hat off, but I left it, not wanting to end our whirling. Finn slowed, let me go, and skated on the ice. I followed, arms stretched out, to keep upright. We chased each other until Cole called out to us.

We stomped our feet on the rug inside the French doors as Cole asked, “Did you have fun?” His smile softened his features. He exuded the comforts of Christmas.

Without thinking, I reached over and gave Cole a hug, wishing him a Merry Christmas. I tore away before he could return it.

Finn and Cole gave each other a surprised smile. We discarded our coats. Cole set the table for breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, along with orange juice, and coffee.

Cole poured us all a glass of orange juice, raised his glass while Finn and I followed suit. “I wish you both a Merry Christmas.” He turned to me. “It’s wonderful to have you with us this year.” He gave my arm a quick squeeze. We clinked each other’s glasses and drank.

The rest of breakfast was small talk. Finn said Lindsey and Carter would be here around 1:00 pm and might spend the night if it snowed.

I showered, put on jeans and a warm sweater, thick winter socks, and ducked into the living room. Gifts were underneath the tree, so I added more. I went all out for Christmas and bought a gift for everyone: friends, family, and the household staff. Even though my life had changed over the past several months, not always for the better, I embraced the spirit of the season. I turned the lights on the tree and lit a cinnamon candle on the table. On the couch with my legs crossed, elbow on the armrest, chin balancing on my fist, I got lost in thought.

Even when I was young, my parents were never emotional. Stoic as statues, I’d scream while unwrapping my gifts, my excitement lessening after each present—no dolls or Barbies to play with or a pretty Christmas dress. I had tossed unwrapped books and educational toys around me. I loved to read, but I wanted to brush a doll’s hair or play with Barbie. If anything, it taught me not to expect things from my parents. I couldn’t change them. They would never change.

Finn’s hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. Lindsey and Carter arrived. I jumped up to greet them and I offered to take their coats. They insisted on taking care of it.

After that, Lindsey gave me a hug, handing me a bag of gifts. “Can you help me put these under the tree?”

We talked about the Christmas cocktail party and the upcoming charity gala. Cole placed more logs on the fire while Carter and Finn poured drinks, taking our drink orders. The fire warmed us along with the drinks, and I was feeling tipsy. I stumbled when I rose but assured everyone I wasn’t drunk. In the kitchen, I took out some appetizers Chef Dan had made, along with my own. Lindsey came in to help.

“WOW! Who’s going to eat all of this food?”

I scooped a pita chip into the artichoke dip and popped it in my mouth, mumbling, “I will!”

Lindsey tried it, eyes popping wide from happy tastebuds.

I pointed at the dip. “I think this goes in the oven.”

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