Page 44 of Daddy's Christmas Rescue
“Should I open it?” Her voice was barely there.
“Yeah, baby-girl. It’s for you. You can open it on the couch if you want.” I sat down and patted the space next to me.
She crossed the room, careful not to meet my eyes, and sat with her knees tucked up, blanket over her lap like a shield. Biscuit settled as close to her as he could get. She peeled at the tape, slow, like she expected it to bite.
The first box was pajamas. Flannel, baby-blue, with teddy bears and yellow hearts. She gasped, actually gasped, andpressed the fabric to her cheek. She looked up at me, eyes shining and almost afraid to hope. “They’re really soft.”
I nodded. “Thought you might like them. There’s another box, too.”
Her hands shook so bad she almost dropped the second box. This time, when the lid came off, she just stared.
It was black. Lace, silk, tiny pink bows. A babydoll. Sexy as hell, but not trashy. She touched the bow, then jerked her hand back like it burned.
For a second she didn’t say anything. I waited.
Finally, she whispered, “This is for me?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Both of them are. You get to be whoever you want, whenever you want.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “And I want every side of you. The sweet, soft, silly one, and the one who’s all grown up and knows what she wants from her man.”
She hugged the pajamas to her chest, but her eyes wouldn’t leave the black lace.
“You can try them on now, or later. Or not at all. I just wanted you to know there’s nothing about you I don’t want.” I reached over, gentle, and squeezed her hand. “If you’re ever ready for more I’ll be here.” But I had to add more. “When you kissed me the other night you have no idea how close you were to being pressed up against the door and taken right there and then.”
She stared at me with wide eyes.
“I panicked because I was terrified you thought you were obligated. This is my way of saying I want all of you. The woman, the Little…the amazing cookie maker.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”
I let out a breath. “There’s no wrong way, Holly. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
She nodded, fast, and I could see she was fighting tears. She blinked them away and managed a smile that just about killed me.
“I want to try the pajamas,” she whispered.
“Go for it.” I grinned, but didn’t push. “Bathroom’s all yours. I’ll tidy up here.”
She slipped away, clutching the pajamas and blanket both, and I let my head fall back against the couch. I was sweating. Actually sweating. I’d survived losing both my parents, two tours, and a near-death in a demolition, but buying pajamas for Holly made me feel like a kid on his first date.
Or what could have been my last.
Biscuit thumped his tail, watching the hallway.
When she came back, the world stopped.
The teddy pajamas were adorable. But the way she stood there, one hand tangled in her curls, face flushed and eyes shining, made her look beautiful. And even better, she was clutching Banjo.
For a second, I couldn’t even talk. I knew she’d been nervous, but the way she stood there, holding her arms, pajama bottoms too long for her and the shirt nearly down to her knees, eyes wide and lips trembling…fuck.
I patted the couch again, and this time she moved. Sat next to me, knees drawn up, toes peeking out from the hem. She stared at the floor.
“You look perfect,” I promised, because I meant it.
Her head jerked up. “I do?”
I nodded. “Yeah, baby-girl. You look adorable. But more than that, you look happy.” I watched the color climb higher in her cheeks. There was no way she could hide it, and she wasn’t even trying.
She hugged Banjo to her chest and let out this shaky breath, like she’d been waiting to be told it was okay. “They’re really soft. I’ve never had pajamas like this.”
