Page 80 of Her Holiday Arrangement
They moved together in a slow, languid intimacy, bodies pressing, shifting, molding into one another. Every touch was precise yet unhurried, a silent conversation conveyed in skin and heat rather than words. Elizabeth felt herself surrendering completely for the first time, letting Riley guide, let Riley claim, let herself be claimed.
Riley’s lips found Elizabeth’s again, soft at first, then deepening, tasting, coaxing moans and gasps she hadn’t realized she had been holding back. Elizabeth arched up instinctively, hands tangled in Riley’s hair, pulling her closer, pressing into her with a hunger that was part desire, part relief, part something that had been simmering between them since the first night they’d shared the bed.
Elizabeth pressed her hands along Riley’s sides, down to her thighs, hips moving in tandem, every brush of skin sending electricity through her body. She felt every heartbeat, every pulse, every ragged breath between them.
“This… this feels…” Elizabeth whispered into Riley’s hair, her voice low, shivering, unsure of words.
“Real?” Riley supplied, voice husky. “I know.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting the sensations take over completely. She didn’t need to think about legacy, appearances, control. There was no pretense here. Only them, only the heat, only the intimacy that had been building, the culmination of longing, teasing, tension, and the tentative trust they were finally giving each other.
The world outside Riley’s apartment had gone soft and white, snowflakes drifting past the window like slow-falling confetti. The city was muffled in that rare holiday silence, no honking horns, no rush of traffic, just the hush of Christmas settling over everything.
Inside, the air was warm with the scent of cocoa. Riley had insisted on making it herself, whisking milk in a dented saucepan and dumping an almost reckless amount of cocoa powder into the mix. Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of detergent and Riley’s perfume. She had offered to help, but Riley only shooed her away with a crooked grin and a, “You don’t know the alchemy of this, Hale.”
Now they were both curled beneath the same blanket, steaming mugs cradled in their hands. Riley’s toes were tucked beneath Elizabeth’s leg, seeking heat. The television was dark, no music playing, just the twinkle of the small tree in the corner, lights blinking unevenly, ornaments collected from mismatched boxes.
And there, hanging low on a branch, was the glass ornament from the estate, polished and gleaming beside one from the dollar store, its glitter peeling a little at the edges. The sight made something ache and swell in Elizabeth’s chest. She had spent a lifetime in rooms filled with perfect trees, every decoration chosen by a designer’s hand. None of them had ever felt like this, like home.
Riley sipped her cocoa and hummed under her breath, some off-key Christmas tune. Elizabeth reached over, brushing a fleck of whipped cream from Riley’s lip with her thumb. Riley wentstill, eyes flicking up, heat passing between them with the same inevitability as the snow falling outside.
Elizabeth leaned in, pressing her lips softly against Riley’s. A brief kiss, sweet and warm, tasting faintly of chocolate. She pulled back just enough to murmur, low and certain, “Merry Christmas, Riley.”
Riley’s eyes softened, her grin curling slow and radiant. “Merry Christmas, Elizabeth.”
And then she kissed her again, longer this time, deeper. The mugs were set aside, forgotten, their hands tangling instead in hair and blankets. Outside, the snow kept falling. Inside, time seemed to stop.
For once, Elizabeth wasn’t thinking ahead, wasn’t rehearsing the next move or guarding her heart. She was simply here, in this messy apartment, with this extraordinary woman, with cocoa cooling on the coffee table and lights flickering across the walls.
Forever was terrifying. But tonight, forever felt possible.
And as Riley’s lips moved against hers, slow and unhurried, Elizabeth let herself believe in it.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
The penthouse no longer looked like the same cold, pristine palace it had a year ago. The floor-to-ceiling windows still framed Manhattan in all its glittering steel and snow, the furniture was still elegant and sleek, but everywhere, little traces of Riley had crept in and stayed.
A crocheted blanket with slightly crooked edges draped itself over the sofa. A stack of dog-eared paperbacks leaned against Elizabeth’s carefully curated art books on the coffee table. There were plants, real ones, that Riley had insisted on adopting, each of them thriving in spite of Elizabeth’s initial prediction of certain death. And tonight, at the center of it all, was a Christmas tree that practically glowed.
It was a compromise between their worlds: strung with expensive, hand-blown glass ornaments Elizabeth’s family had sent over the years, but also peppered with cheap, glitter-coated baubles Riley had insisted they needed. A clay reindeer with lopsided antlers Riley had made at a sip-and-sculpt class dangled just below a crystal snowflake from Tiffany’s. Stockingshung by the fireplace, Elizabeth’s monogrammed in elegant embroidery, Riley’s with her name written in uneven sequins. The pine-scented candle Riley had found in a Vermont gift shop flickered on the mantle, filling the room with the memory of that snowy estate and the night everything had changed.
Elizabeth stood back, arms folded, surveying it all with a quiet satisfaction she still wasn’t used to feeling.
“Little higher!” Riley called from across the room. She was perched precariously on the second rung of a ladder, stretching on tiptoe with the tree topper in hand. Her messy bun had already half-fallen apart, strands of hair tumbling into her face, and she was wearing one of Elizabeth’s cashmere sweaters, the sleeves rolled up clumsily to keep them from dragging.
Elizabeth’s heart lurched the way it always did when Riley did something ridiculous and endearing in equal measure.
“You’re going to break your neck,” Elizabeth said, stepping closer.
“I’m fine,” Riley insisted, wobbling slightly as she tried to center the star at the very top. “I’ve got, oh, shit.”
The ladder tipped just enough to make Elizabeth’s chest seize. In two strides, she was there, arms snapping around Riley’s waist before she could fall. The tree star clattered against the branches, landing askew. Riley squeaked in surprise and then laughed, breathless, as she found herself pressed tight against Elizabeth’s chest.
“See?” Riley grinned up at her. “Totally fine.”
Elizabeth exhaled sharply, her forehead dropping to Riley’s temple for a moment before she pulled back enough to fix her with a glare. “You are insufferable.”
