Page 91 of Wrapped with a Beau

But if you let fear stop you, then what we have will only ever be memories is what he wants to say.

“You’re probably right” is what he says instead, tabling his thoughts before they can leak out of him.

“We’ll always have Christmas,” Elisha says quietly.

Somehow, that makes Ves feel worse.

Because, in his heart, he is still a boy who believes in fantasies and getting the girl and happily ever after.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Ves

Thorin wakes Ves up on Christmas morning with a swish of his tail. Ves sputters around a mouthful of fluffy black cat hair, shooting upright in bed to glower at him. Thorin primly licks a paw and jumps from the bed, landing nimbly on the floor next to Elisha’s clothes from last night.

“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs, throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him back down.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, dropping a kiss on her temple.

She smiles, sighing contentedly.

Ves stares down at her in bewildered astonishment. How can she look so at peace when his insides feel as shaken as a snow globe?

How does he just get up and deal with the fact that there’s a last time for everything? A last kiss. A last sleepy morning snuggled together in bed. A last time he’s going to be the person he is right now, with her, in this quiet moment before they go to her house to celebrate the day.

How is he supposed to be okay with any of this?

Elisha blearily cracks one eye open. “I can hear you thinking.”

He makes a noncommittal sound as he strokes her forearms, grazing his fingertips up and down. He knows how much she enjoys the languid touches, the way it takes him a long time to tire. She especially likes when he does it to her spine, shivering when he reaches her tailbone.

If they had time, he’d show her how much he likes that whimpering sound she makes when he lulls her pleasurably boneless, then picks up the pace until they’re both frenzied with want.

But they’re all out of time.

They shower together, taking turns under the hot water, slipping the loofah around each other’s bodies until they’re both slick and sudsy. No quickie this time, just a sensual re-anchoring to the present moment as they stare into each other’s eyes and exchange sloppy kisses.

When they head across the street armed with presents, he almost feels like he’s ready for it.

Jamie opens the door and takes Ves’s jacket. “Merry Christmas, you two!”

“Don’t you both look lovely,” says Anita, beaming. “New sweater?”

“Thank you, yes. I got it at this little shop on Main Street.” Ves glances down at his color-block sweater with pride. He usually sticks to solid, neutral colors, but he went a little wild with this one: beige, white, navy, and gray. Before meeting Elisha, he would have called it an ugly Christmas sweater.

“This is his idea of colorful,” says Elisha, looking up at him fondly.

Jamie eyes his daughter’s outfit. “At least someone dressed up for Christmas Day. You, young lady, are wearing the same thing as yesterday.”

Her face turns red. “I’ll go change!” she yelps.

Anita shakes her head, smiling. “Come on, Ves. Dave’s already here.”

In the kitchen, they find him scrambling eggs and turning perfectly golden-brown sausage in the pan. “Just in time!” he exclaims, twinkling at Ves.

This time, when the hug comes, Ves embraces it. Dave’s arms are strong and sturdy, the whisper of sweet peppermint tingling Ves’s nostrils as his chin meets the older man’s shoulder. He never knew his grandparents, but he imagines a hug from them would have felt like this.

Dave pulls away with a resigned smile. “When do you head back to New York?”

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