Page 27 of Christmas Eve Do-Over
But ultimately, I believed in her. Believed in her ability to press forward and grab onto happiness. I believed in us.
The tears streamed down her face in earnest, in stark contrast to the smile that lit her up from within. Her head nodded slowly, and I was free falling back to earth, every color, light, and sound magnified, like the universe was celebrating around us.
"Yes!" Shasta seemed to burst with her answer, the tears turning into laughter, the ring forgotten in her haste to give me an answer and seal the deal. Arms flung around each other and I had an out-of-body experience, realizing I was holding my first love, the one that got away.
I had my second chance.
We had a second chance.
This was our Christmas Eve do-over.
When we pulled back enough to see each other, I kissed the tears off her cheeks, then felt around for the box. Fishing the ring out, I asked for her hand and took a seat next to her. Let's be real. I was forty-six. I couldn't stay on my knees much longer.
"I'll make you a long list of promises on our wedding day, but I mean them all, starting now. Your happiness is my top priority, always." I slipped it onto her ring finger, a deep sense of satisfaction she was mine. Finally and forever.
She nodded. "I choose you. No more do-overs. Just you. Always."
I'd never heard sweeter words, and as I'd just promised her, I wanted to give her the world in return. Make her happier than she ever thought possible.
"It may be too soon, but when has that ever stopped me?" I chuckled, and she joined in, probably agreeing with me, given she hadn't even wanted to date me last week and here we were. Engaged. "One of my buddies works at Orangewood. That's how I took part in the Santa Ride on Christmas Eve. If you're willing, I'd like to look into fostering a child. Maybe two. With you. What do you think?"
All emotion slipped from her face and once again, I was kicking myself for pushing too hard, too fast. Couldn't I have just given her time to get used to the idea of being married? We could have talked about fostering after a year or so. When she knew I meant every word of my promise. When she trusted in us fully.
Expressionless, she asked, "Are you for real?"
It was like choosing the red or the blue wire on a ticking time bomb. First door or the second door? Make her happy or screw this whole proposal up royally? No pressure.
"Um, yes?" I cringed.
That's when she launched herself at me, her hug coming at me with so much force we rolled right off the couch into a heap of limbs. Her kisses along my jawline soothed over the aching hip that had landed funny and the arm pinned beneath us.
"I'll take that as a 'yes' to looking into fostering?" I chuckled, trying to get her to stay still long enough so I could get her lips on mine. The woman was a tease.
"Yes, absolutely, I couldn't be happier," she rushed to answer.
With some maneuvering and a fair amount of unsexy grunting, I got us away from the couch and coffee table, finally positioning us on the floor beneath the Christmas tree. Clothes flew off and something lacy even found its way onto the tree, like an R-rated ornament.
Shasta was riding me on top, the strength in her legs allowing her to rise and drop back down, faster and faster. I prayed I'd never forget the sight of her, the Christmas lights making her skin glow, her hair a sexy mess around her face, her breasts swaying each time she buried me fully inside her.
I sat up, needing to be closer, needing to feel her in my arms. Our lips fused, sharing air in gulps and gasps.
"Did we do it? Did we make a new, happy Christmas Eve memory?" I barely grunted the words out, not able to hold out much longer but needing to know I'd done that for her.
"Mmm...the best. Merry Christmas, Duke," she whispered back, eyes squeezing shut.
I rested my forehead on hers, drifting a hand down her torso to tip her over the edge, right there with her.
Again.
Always.
