Page 114 of A Not So Merry Rescue
“Loud and clear, Bundy. Get back to the story because we still have to watch a movie before bed.”
She wanted to recreate our first Christmas Eve together, complete with a meal at the B and B. And because my family is all about traditions, Heidi was on board immediately, right down to the beef Wellington, which may have been better this year than last.
Once we were home, Willa informed me of a new tradition she wanted to start, and being so in love with her and her embracing my favorite holiday, I couldn’t deny her request.Hence, the reading of the book. I could listen to her read all day long, so it’s not quite a hardship.
What is hard is my cock. It’s willing and waiting to get inside her. I’m hoping she’ll agree to my plan of during the movie instead of after.
I’m betting it won’t be a problem.
CHRISTMAS MORNING
Gotta love the power of persuasion.
Or in my case, letting her think it was her idea to have sex while we watched the Hallmark movie of my choosing. I didn’t even have to plant the seed. She’s the one who stuck her hand down my pants. With the fire roaring and the movie playing low in the background, we made love on the couch.
And then again in the bedroom before we fell asleep.
And once more this morning before we had to get ready for brunch at my parents’ house.
Surely one of those times got her pregnant.
With the addition of Isla, Christmas brunch looks a little different this year. Unlike last year, Willa’s a permanent addition to our table.
Excited to attend this year’s brunch, Shania wowed her with a hand-drawn picture of the bookshop in Willa’s books. My girl cried. Hard. Which led to all the women crying about the sweet gift.
I only wasn’t jealous because I have my own sweet surprise planned for her later.
Mom outdid herself today with the meal comprising of eggs Florentine, eggnog bread pudding, and a tater tot breakfast casserole. I offered multiple times to come early and help, all of which she refused, telling me to enjoy Christmas morning with Willa.
Once we’re stuffed and say our goodbyes, I lead Willa to the SUV. It doesn’t get driven much because if we’re going somewhere and not driving the truck, we usually take Willa’s car. It’s newer and nicer than mine, and she even lets me drive it. With the stipulation it’s not allowed to crash again. Once was enough.
“Where are we going? Isn’t the cabin the other way?”
Despite living here for almost a year, she doesn’t get out much except to Main Street and my family’s houses, and she’s bad with directions. Too busy in her head most days, she barely leaves the kitchen table or the couch. Building her an office in the garage is on our list, but once I realized the house was a better option, I pushed it to the bottom.
Maybe one day.
“One last Christmas gift.”
“Beckett. That wasn’t our agreement.”
Her and her “deals” and “agreements” can shove it some days. It makes it hard to spoil her when I have to abide by her wishes, most of which are her putting stipulations on our relationship. In eleven months, I’ve already broken nearly all of them. Wouldn’t you know it, I never hear her complaining.
“Consider it a New Year’s gift then.”
“Yeah, ‘cause those are things.”
“They are if you let them be.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her harrumph and cross her arms across her chest in mock frustration. She has pretty much abandoned all coats and jackets in favor of my fleece hoodies. No matter what she’s wearing—like a festive red and green dress and leggings currently—if the weather calls for something heavier, she usually chooses the one I offered her last year. Thankfully for her, she doesn’t have to brace the elements too often. She’s an indoor girl.
Or as I like to refer to her, my indoor black cat.
I love riling her up, pushing her to the limit, finding new ways for her “grumpy” side to appear. It’s the side I first fell inlove with last year before I knew who else was hiding under the facade.
She doesn’t know I’ve had a construction team working on the house. She doesn’t ask about it, so I don’t tell her the details. I’m prepared to have her tell me she hates everything and have to start again. Everyone told me I should let her make some decisions if this is our home, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Besides, I’ve subtly been asking her questions for months, gauging what she likes and doesn’t like. I think she’ll be okay with the eventual design.
And if not, the ring box burning a hole in my pocket will smooth things over.
