by MJ Fields
When she starts to fuss in her sleep, Nate’s eyes grow comically large. “Think we should take her out?”
“She’s still sleeping, but maybe we can get her more comfortable.” He sets the seat on one of the blue velvet chairs.
After Nathaniel and I attempt to figure out how to unbuckle the restraints, Raff chuckles.
I look up at his smiling face. “I’d be thankful and grateful for some assistance.”
Within seconds, he has her sprung from her seat and holding her like a pro, for so many reasons, my stomach twists.
“Called in the mom squad to gather gear,” Jenny whispers to me. “She’ll need it.”
“The mom squad?”
She winks. “Think of it as a redneck baby shower. Moms save everything for years, which is insane. I mean, who would want more of those little critters?”
I look back at her. “Thanks, Jenny.”
“You’re welcome. By the way, when Bobby brings the crib and changing table, just remember I forgot it was still in the attic.”
I can’t help but laugh, and she rolls her eyes.
“Girl, quit judging me. Turn back around and look at your man. I swear to God, my ovaries just exploded.”
When I look back, Grace’s hands are on his face, and she’s cooing.
Raff catches her finger in his mouth and mumbles, “We’ve only just met little Grace. Watch where those fingers go.”
She coos again, blinking her bright blue eyes.
“Odd, right? We look exactly alike, yet we couldn’t be more different.”
She squeals, and he laughs. “Leave it to Arthur to bring a baby as a buffer. Don’t tell him this, Grace, but I’m fairly certain it worked.”
I wrap my arms around my middle and whisper to Jenny, “Definitely an explosion.”
Rule Number Twenty-Nine
Stay Nourished Physically and mentally
Raff
The past few weeks have been a bit hectic, which is as grossly understated as the term ‘Houston, we have a problem.’ And yet, we’ve survived.
We lived through the first week because Thankful and Grateful were a constant whisper in my ear, as well as the actual words being displayed on the new rustic artwork popping up around the flat and the bar.
Mum and Dad didn’t spend all that much time with us, but Arthur was here all the time. A couple of nights ago, at the tree lighting in the town square, when I went to get Nikki and Nathaniel cocoa, he followed me. It was the first time he and I were alone.
He apologized profusely and said he didn’t know how to handle death, and until Grace, he didn’t know how much I probably needed him.
Yet another understatement.
It pissed me off enough to finally ask him why none of them had told me about Grace. He told me that he didn’t know until he was asked to sign legal paperwork to put her up for adoption that she was his. Grace’s mother never told him she was pregnant; she was a one-night stand. Against our parents’ wishes, he chose to keep Grace and had been in a legal battle for six months to get Grace’s mother—who didn’t want her to begin with until she realized she would gain financially—had finally agreed to a settlement and signed legal documents to relinquish custody.
I wasn’t sure that was suffice of a reason, nor if I’d ever be able to forgive him totally, but as we stood around the tree, and the carolers began to sing ‘What Child Is This,’ Nikki nodded to him slightly, and I watched as he looked at Grace Graham, with love, but I also saw fear and worry in his eyes. I remember feeling like that when Hope died, I was terrified that I wouldn’t be the father Nathaniel deserved.
I looked back down at Nikki, concern etched her beautiful features, and I felt the wordless exchange between us, her asking me to forgive and me telling her that I would.
The next night my parents, Arthur, Nikki, Nathaniel, and I cut our tree and decorated it with Christmas music playing through the surround sound, eggnog, and Christmas cookies covering the counter. It was without question the first time my parents, Arthur, and I had ever done anything of the sort. And it felt… good.
Our home is indeed a winter wonderland, and every night I come home to additional baby gear littering the flat.
Tonight, Nikki is standing on her tiptoes on our kitchen counter, grabbing one of those little signs.
She looks back and hands it to me. “Could you take this and grab the whitewashed sign out of the tote?”
Under my breath, I mumble, “Are we finished being thankful and grateful?”
“Sure are.” She laughs as I pull out a new sign and roll my eyes. “Now we’re being Merry and Bright.”
“The eternal optimist.” I hand it up to her. “With your arse in my face, you could convince me of anything, Red. So, Merry and Bright, we shall be.”
She laughs and steps back, falling— “Shiiiiittttt.”
I catch her from behind. “You forget where you were?”
Her face is red with embarrassment as she shakes her head, righting herself. “Guess I did. How was your day?”
“Shhh, shhh, shhhiii,” comes from behind us. We both turn to see Grace grinning.
“Well, that’s just wonderful,” Arthur says from somewhere in the flat. “Grace’s first word is shit.”
“I’d like to say that I’m sorry, but.” I shrug, leaving my sentence hanging purposefully.
“Shii, shii, shii.” Grace bounces up and down in her little buggy, her chubby thighs vibrating.
Nikki laughs. “Let’s work on saying Da Da, Gracie baby.”
Looking around, I see that Nathaniel and Arthur are hanging lights around the railings above us.
I turn back to Nikki. “Have my mum and dad been over?”
She pops a kiss on my cheek. “Not yet” and slides down.
I mumble, “I’m sure they will be at dinnertime.”
“Arthur and Nathaniel are having a great time.”
“I thought we were done being thankful and grateful.”
“It’s snowing. We’re in the middle of the most magical time of the year in the most magical place on earth. You tell me.”
“What I wouldn’t give to set you on the counter and show you instead.”
She grins. “We could ask Nate and Arthur to go to the store?”
“Eggnog or sugar this time?”
The oven timer goes off, and with it, my hope of getting us off.
Fingering my collar, she whispers, “Or we wait until everyone’s asleep.”
Feet bounding down the stairs, Nathaniel’s excitement is evident. “Wait until you taste Nikki’s sticky ribs. They’re the best, Uncle Arthur.”
She scrunches up her nose and smiles. “Let’s eat.”
Knowing Nikki and Nathaniel’s plans for making new traditions have been slightly interrupted due to the British invasion, I’ve planned a surprise.
I’m currently waiting in front of the skating rink on Hawthorne Resort property in which I pushed Beckett to make functional enough for us, the three of us, to skate together.
Nikki and Nathaniel are en route and should be here any moment. She believes that they’re bringing my spare set of keys because I lost them.
Nathaniel knows better.
I see headlights and then the sound of snow crunching beneath the tires, right before they crest the hill.
I exhale a slow and steady breath and watch as my whole world comes toward me.
Nikki parks in front of me, and she and Nathaniel hop out.
She’s wearing the emerald green down jacket I bought her, her neck covered with a cream-colored cashmere scarf that matches her hat, auburn waves cascading down her shoulders. She’s so beautiful.
Laughing, she hurries toward me. “How long have you been standing out here in the cold? You’ll catch pneumonia, and we can’t have that, especially not two days before Christmas.”
Unable to hold back, I wrap my arms around her, lift her up, and kiss her.
Her hands squeeze my shoulders, and she moans softly in re
sponse.
I pull back and look at her, Nikki Winterfield, my last forever.
“How did you manage to lose your keys?” She smiles. “You never lose anything.”
When lights from the building illuminate the dark, she looks up.
“He didn’t.” Nate laughs as he leaves the building and runs to her vehicle to turn the engine off.
“What? Then why—”
“It’s not exactly as planned, but what about this family of ours follows a plan? Fate drives this bunch.” I wink.
“We’re skating tonight, Nikki. It’s not Christmas Eve, it is a day earlier, but it’s still going to be one of our traditions.” He grabs her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
She looks at me like I’ve just reached in and touched a part of her heart. She hasn’t a clue what’s coming.
“Go ahead. I’ll follow you two.”
I wait for the reaction I expect, and I am not disappointed.
“Dad!” Nate yells as I walk in. “You got me my own skates, the ones I wanted?”
Nathaniel may not have been raised around the Graham family money, but somehow, he inherited the Graham taste. And by taste, I mean he appreciates the finest things.
“I think we’ll be doing enough skating that it is worth the investment.”
“Nikki, check them out!” He lifts them in front of his eyes. “They’re Bauer Vapor pro skates!”
“Awesome!” She holds her hand up, and they high-five. “Does this mean we’ll be attending ice hockey games in the future?”
He looks at me, knowing I have expressed my concern for full-contact sports. “Let’s see how steady you get on those things. The last time you were on them warranted a visit to the after-hours clinic for sutures.”
“That was years ago,” he huffs.
Nikki looks at me with concern in her eyes, and I hold up two fingers, and she smiles and looks at him. “Well, I bet with those skates, you’ll own the ice.”
She walks to her bag and pulls out her skates.
“Well, mine are beautiful.” Nikki takes out the cream-colored skates. “Thank you. I love them.”
She sits down and starts to remove her boots.
“Allow me.” I kneel before her.
“Ever the gentleman.”
“In public, yes.”
Nikki grins, and her green eyes sparkle. Mine.
When I’m finished tying her skate, I stare up at her.
“Where are yours?”
“Over there.” I nod to the bench on the other side of the ice.
“Well, get them on, and let’s do this.” She stands unsteadily, and I grip her hips.
“Been a while.” She giggles.
I push up on one knee and smile.
“You need help?” she asks, and Nathaniel laughs nervously behind me.
She looks at him, allowing me time to pull the black velvet box from my pocket.
When she looks back down, she gasps, covering her mouth with her hand.
“If anyone over the past six years asked me if I’d ever get married again, the answer would have been a resounding no. The day I saw you in the position I’m now in before you, kneeling on the ground, that all changed. Love is a rare and beautiful thing. I am a lucky man to have found love once, and even luckier that I’ve found it again. I can’t imagine not calling you my wife. My last love. So, Nikki Winterfield, will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?”
I open the box. Her eyes light up, tears filling them. In my heart, I know I did a job well done.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re more so.”
She smiles as tears fall while she looks down at the D flawless, three-carat emerald-cut diamond on a delicate platinum band, with four thin prongs you can barely see. The jeweler wanted me to add some side stones or pave diamonds like a halo, but I declined. The ring should symbolize us—clean, honest, no fuss. But still, bloody amazing.
“Raff,” she sniffs, staring at the diamond.
“Red?”
“You’re gonna have to pinch me.”
Pulling out the ring out and placing the empty box in my pocket, I ask, “How about I love to you every day instead?”
I look up at her as she holds her left hand out, and I slide the ring on her slim finger.
“A million times, yes.”
“She said yes!” Nathaniel shouts.
Rule Number Thirty
Love truly does conquer all
Nikki
Gripping the sheets, I gasp as I feel his mouth cover my pussy.
After a few mind-blowing licks, he looks up. “Merry Christmas, Love.”
“Oh my God.” I try not to laugh when I see the Santa hat on his head.
“I’ve heard you’ve been a very good girl.”
“You keep waking me up like this, and I’ll never stop.”
His lips are immediately on my center.
“Fuck yes, your pussy tastes so good.” He thrusts his tongue deep inside me, and I cry out as my thighs clench around his head. His hands cup my ass, and he pulls me tighter against his face.
Grinding against his mouth, I feel his finger thrust inside of me as he licks my clit. He groans as he licks harshly around my opening, then he sucks my clit. The feeling of pleasure, pleasure only one has or will ever give me again, courses through my body.
It takes seconds for me to fall apart.
When I open my eyes and try to catch my breath, he kneels between my legs, fully erect and laying heavy against his incredible body, my mouth waters.
I reach up and grip his base, then hungrily and greedily lick every inch of him as he grunts while running his hands through my hair.
I take him further into my mouth and devour him with the same need he did me —harder, faster—eliciting a groan, and meeting it with a moan as I lick the pre-cum from his tip.
“Fuck yes, Nikki, fuck yes.”
I continue sucking him, enjoying the feel of his cock gliding across my tongue, as my sated center becomes needy once again.
That need, however, doesn’t supersede his. I’ll show him that today. The sounds of pleasure that come from him make me take him deeper, moving faster, using my tongue to explore the veins and ridges. I love the taste of him, and I love the way he groans and growls.
“I love you, Nikki, fucking love you,” he stammers, then thrusts into my mouth.
His hands cup my breasts, his fingers pinching my hard and aching nipples, my mouth around his dick. I whimper.
He pulls out of my mouth abruptly. “Don’t want to come in your mouth for the first time on Christmas.”
Grabbing his dick, I shake my head no. “I want this.”
And I do. I want to be on my knees in front of him like he was with me when he proposed. That very same position to show him I desire him, need him, love him as much as he does me.
“I won’t deny you.”
I slide out of bed, my feet on the floor, and kneel. He walks over, and I grab his hard, enormous shaft in my hand, swipe my tongue across its broad head, and then watch as he tilts his head back, a growl escaping his lips.
Stroking him gently, I watch his nostrils flare and his jaw clench as he bites down hard. His lips separate, and his teeth are slightly bared. The muscles in his jaw flex, and so, too, do my insides.
It’s so raw—his response to my touch, almost animalistic. And I am so turned on by his show of emotion, his need, his desire from this position, on my knees in front of him.
I kiss and lick his head again and am rewarded with more of his raw and sexy sounds.
“Fuck!” he growls.
I lightly skim my tongue across his erection to his inner thigh, where I suck again. His erection twitches, and he fists my hair.
“Jesus, Red,” he growls.
Taking his shaft in my hands, I stroke him as I lightly flick my tongue along his wide, throbbing tip.
“Love.” He praises as a deep, guttural sound escapes his chest.
I c
rawl my free hand up his leg to cup him as I continue sucking up and down his length. I lick down him, tonguing the bulging veins running down the full length of him, and he grips my hair more forcefully.
He hisses.
I suck harder as he thrusts into my mouth, causing me to gag slightly.
He looks down almost apologetically.
I reach behind him and grab his rock-hard ass, pulling him closer.
“You suck me so fucking good,” he growls.
His words cause me to burn hotter deep inside, turning me on further.
I pull back and flick my tongue across his head again, wanting to taste more of him, more of his cum.
Hollowing my cheeks, I go down harder, faster.
“Fuuccckkk … gotta stop, Love.”
I shake my head furiously, his cock expanding further in my mouth.
He hisses as the first hot, thick burst hits the back of my throat, and I moan in delight.
He groans as I pump him and feel him twitch again. Then I suck hard down his length, cleaning him as he tries to regain control of his breath.
Raff and I sit cuddled on the couch in front of the roaring fireplace, waiting for a decent hour to start playing the Christmas playlist Nate and I had compiled for this very occasion.
“I already knew I was head up my arse in love with you before Thanksgiving when my family came to town. But I gotta tell you, Nikki, never did I think it could be even more, and it just keeps getting stronger every damn day.”
I lift my head from his chest and look up at him. “Was it the blow job?”
His chest vibrates in a silent chuckle as he looks down at me and his grip on my ass tightens. “Smart arse.”
“The signs reminding us of how we should act regardless of all that’s going on around us?”
He laughs softly as he kisses the top of my head.
“It’s you, and it’s me, and it’s the ability to love each other the way we do regardless of what’s going on around us. I know without a doubt the market could crash, and we could be living in a cardboard box, eating out of tin cans, and none of what we are would diminish in the slightest. The fucking sky could fall, the light completely becoming void, and I’d still see your smile. You and Nathaniel would still be talking books and adding to lists of traditions to celebrate as a family, and I would be thanking God that I found you. I’ve become truly thankful and grateful, merry and bright, and blessed beyond comprehension.”
