Page 44 of Silent Night Sins
With that, he turned on his heel and trudged back to his room. He didn’t bother being quiet, slamming the door closed behind him.
I winced again. If he was cranky after the interruption to his beauty sleep, Vincenzo was twice as bad.
Turning back to the task at hand, I pawed through the box. I had many gifts for Nicky wrapped in the trunk of my car. But they weren’t right. They weren’t perfect. I needed something to show her, to prove to her that we were meant to be together.
That was what my other gifts failed to say.
It’d dawned on me while I lay in bed with her that I hadn’t found the perfect way to show her this relationship had a future.
But this plan would.
I refused to fail.
The contents of my childhood stared up at me. There was the baptismal gown my grandmother—who’d died before I was born—had made. It was preserved in tissue, sealed in a vacuumed bag. There was the letter from my mother that she’d written when she was first diagnosed with cancer. The edges were worn, the paper stained with the tears a teen only shed in the dark. A few other treasures nested in the three-by-three chest. But it was the one at the bottom that I plucked out.
The sheet of canvas was feather-light in my palm. Turning it over, the wordparadisoscrawled across the back. I clutched it to my chest, slammed the lid of the chest, and kicked it back under the bed, not bothering to lock it.
There were two more stops to make before dawn. If I hurried, I would make it in plenty of time.
***
Thanks to Mother Nature’s fit of PMS, the roads were shit, and I did not make it back in good time. The sun was dancing over the horizon, having risen an hour ago to mock my slow progress. Her light had shimmered over the sloppy, badly plowed roads with a glittering mockery.
Speeding nearly landed me in a stoplight pole—twice.
Cranking the hand brake, I looked to the dark bay window of the living room. The tree stood glumly in the frame.Merda.The lights had been on when I left. Which could only mean one thing.
Nicky had woken up alone…on Christmas.
Cavolo!No!
I tore out of the car, racing to the back gate, and thanking the heavens that I’d had the foresight to shovel this morning before I left. That delay wouldn’t have sped up the process. My errands took this long because the specialty store was closed, and I’d had to rob the place. I hoped the stack of unmarked bills I left on the counter would prevent them calling the cops.
Balancing the drink tray in the crook of my arm, I winced as hot coffee splashed on my sleeve. Drive-through sticky rolls and burritos were a poor feast, but it was the only place open on Christmas Morning. And since I was running late, I knew I didn’t have time to cook something from scratch.
Maybe we can cook together.
That made me smile as I pushed inside. The somber energy was a slap in the face, and it made the grin fall from my lips. All thoughts of setting everything up fled.
I needed to find my angel—now!
I dumped the contents of my busy morning on the island, didn’t bother to take off my boots, and rushed into the living room.
Nicky sat in an armchair, staring at the unlit tree. A laptop, with a sleeping black screen, rested on her knees, and her cheeks were red, eyes puffy from the salt water.
My angel had been crying. And I knew it was my fault.
I crossed the distance and fell to my knees beside her. She was so lost in her tangle of thoughts that she jumped when I placed the glove on her knee.
“Tino?” She blinked down at me.
“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” I closed the laptop, slid it under the chair, and then pulled off my gloves to rest them on her blanket-covered legs. “You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.”
“You came back.” Those words sounded like a question.
I drew her hands in mine. “Of course I did. Where else would I spend Christmas?”Except with the one I love?
Since neither of us had used the L word, I didn’t want to in this moment. That was a confession for another time. Preferably when we were naked, shaking, and tangled up under the sheets.
