Page 51 of His Off-Limits Christmas Gift

“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard for the weekend,” she teased.

I smiled quickly. “I was just thinking about what Brandon said the other night.”

She furrowed her brow, showing the little V over the bridge of her nose. “About your ever wanting Yasmin back?”

I gripped her ass, reminding her that she was on top of me. “She’s not even on my mind, Rach.”

“Then what?”

“About your having a crush on me.”

She groaned, lowering her head, and I chuckled.

“Well, you did,” I said.

“I did,” she agreed, “but I don’t want you to think of me as some younger idiot with a crush.”

“Then how should I think of you?” I challenged playfully.

“As…” She looked to the side, pensive. “A woman who wants to enjoy her time with a man.”

That sounded simple. And doable. But I wondered if she was holding back from saying something else.

“And how might you want to enjoy your time with me?” I asked.

“First, I wouldn’t mind getting up to go to the bathroom.”

We laughed as she hurried to get off me. “And then,” she said as I sat up to get out of bed after her, “I wouldn’t mind breakfast.”

That was all I needed to hear. Her commitment, even if it was just for this morning. Having a womanwantme for who I am was a damned good gift to receive. And it wasn’t even Christmas yet.

As we spent the morning together, getting breakfast at a little place down the block, I came to accept that Rachel was a gift. She distracted me from work. She helped me not to dwell on how I would soon have to face an event where I was previously and horribly stuck with a public humiliation.

Breakfast turned into a stroll along the paths cleared of the fresh snow. Then that walk turned into running errands together. And after that, we got lunch.

All day, we stayed together. It was fun, and when it came time to find dinner somewhere, I realized the thought of “teaching” her anything hadn’t crossed my mind.

I hadn’t mentored her one bit. I didn’t plan to, either. While that arrangement and agreement hung between us like an awkward afterthought, I wasn’t going to bring it up. This real, natural companionship that we’d forged outside the office felt too good to give up.

Later, after dinner, I coaxed her into some last-minute shopping for gifts I’d procrastinated on. Then, on the walk back to her place, I cajoled her into going ice skating near Rockefeller. And lastly, doing the scavenger hunt on New Year’s biggest Christmas tree.

“Okay. I think you’ve Christmassed me out,” she said as we walked away from the hub of festivity.

“Nonsense. That’s impossible. Did you always hate this season?” I asked.

“No. And I don’t hate it.”

“Am I shoving it in your face like your mom does?” I cringed, worried I could be too pushy. It was just hard not to be in a good mood and want to share the joy. It was a celebratory time all around, more so because I had Rachel to be with during it all now.

“No. Not at all.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m having fun with you, really.”

It was kind of her to say so, even if I was pushing her close to her limit.

“Speaking of Christmas, though,” she said. “You’ll be at your cabin, right?”

“I plan to be. I’ll head back to Rockton after the party.”

“And my parents are invited this year?” she asked.

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