Page 24 of His to Unwrap
“You know what you said before?” she whispers against my chest. “About your past and how it changed you?”
I nod, throat suddenly tight.
She kisses my chest, right over my heart. “You said you didn’t know if you could ever be normal again. And maybe that’s true, maybe you won’t.” I can hear her smile in her voice. “Personally, I think normal is overrated.”
I chuckle at that, but she lifts herself from my chest, gazing down at me with a fierceness I’ve never seen in her blue eyes before. “Maybe neither of us is normal. But I know this, Roman Clarke. We have the power to make each other better.”
I have to swallow several times before I can speak, there’s so much emotion in my throat. “You don’t need to be any better, angel. You’re already perfect.”
She smiles at me and the sight of it is the greatest gift I could ever get for Christmas. “Then you can just make me happy.”
My grin is big enough to match hers—not such a scowling bastard now, I guess.
“It’s a deal.”
EPILOGUE
NOELLE
“You have to be kidding me.”
Roman looks at me, his face the model of innocence—which I am not buying in the slightest. “Why would I be kidding?”
“There’s no way you actually want to use that…that thing.”
He holds up the gift I received at Smutty Secret Santa to inspect it. “I promised you that I was going to try to have more Christmas spirit.” His grin turns wicked. “What says Christmas spirit more than fucking you with a candy cane?”
I burst out laughing, leaning into him. His eyes remain steady on my face, like he’s drinking me in. I’ve noticed this, over the last week since we got together. He likes to watch me laugh, always wears this soft, almost bewildered expression— like he’s not quite sure how he got here, but he’s happy as hell about it.
My rugged, grumpy, serious man. So much sweeter than he gives himself credit for.
“Come on,” he cajoles, bringing the stupid candy cane closer to my face. “I’ve been wanting to use this since I saw you open it.”
“It’s not dirty sex toy time,” I tell him, trying to be stern. “It’s hot chocolate and Christmas tree lights time.”
“Hmm.” His chest rumbles. “What if I pour the hot chocolate over your tits and?—”
“Roman!” He laughs at the outrage in my voice, and my chest feels a million times lighter.
I’m pretty sure I’ve heard him laugh more this week that we’ve been together than I have in the entire first year of knowing him at the club. He smiles more, too. Happiness looks good on Roman Gray.
“Fine, fine,” he says, pulling me up onto his lap and relaxing back into the couch cushions. “No dirty sex toys in front of the Christmas tree.”
I snuggle into him, my back to his chest, loving the way his big arms feel wrapped around me. Hell, I love everything about this.
Roman surprised me this morning when I woke up to find a Christmas tree in his living room. We’re cutting it a little short—it’s already Christmas Eve. But he’s been true to his word and basically kept me naked in his bed since the night of the club holiday party, so we haven’t quite had time for Christmasy things.
But he had remembered what I’d told him about decorating the tree with my dad. “I know it’s not the same, doing it with me,” he said this morning, sounding uncharacteristically shy. “But I thought it might be fun to make a tradition of our own.”
See what I mean? Sweet.
I’d compromised by agreeing we could exchange eggnog for hot chocolate. He still said it was too sugary, but at least he didn’t grimace like he was being poisoned, the way he had with the eggnog.
We spent the afternoon decorating the tree and now we’re sitting here cuddling on the couch in our PJs—well, sweatpants for Roman. He’s not exactly the jammies type.
“You were right,” he murmurs into my hair as we both gaze at the softly glowing lights on the tree. “This is nice.”
I wiggle a little in his lap, too happy to sit still. “This is better than nice. It’s perfect.”
