Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  “Well?” Serenity asked when his plate was empty. “Want more?”

  “That was delicious,” and it had been, gourmet style, “but I want to save room for cookies.”

  Tiff kept glancing toward the front door. It was homey, being with Serenity and Tiffany, Glitz and Glamour, with the tree blinking behind him and music playing softly. The fake fireplace was just right, its orange flames leaping. Instead of Uno, they played Trivia from Serenity’s cell phone, and she took pictures constantly.

  “No commitment yet from Georgette,” she said. “I was hoping it would be a Christmas gift.”

  He hadn’t checked his email or media pages. “I’m not as connected as you are—no offense meant.”

  She snapped a selfie of her and Tiff. “None taken.” Then she jumped up from the couch to kneel behind him. “Smile this time,” she instructed.

  He did, so happy to be there with her that he let go his shyness.

  She showed him the picture of them both—grinning, really, so happy. “You’re gorgeous, Ryker Nelson.”

  He blushed. He knew what he wanted for Christmas, and forever. Serenity.

  Just then the door opened. The dogs rushed down from the couch and raced toward it.

  Tiffany kicked the blanket aside, her eyes wide with trepidation. “Please be Jonas.”

  Who else would just walk in?

  “It’s not Santa,” Serenity teased her sister—at the same time, getting up to make sure Tiffany was balanced before her sister ran into Jonas’s outstretched arms. Jonas was normally clean-shaven, but he had at least a full days’ growth on his olive-toned jaw.

  “What happened?” Tiff cried, touching her husband’s chest, and shoulder, and face, and hands… as if she needed to be sure he was real.

  “I lost my phone. I’m so sorry I’m late—I was just trying to get home, to you.” Jonas’s voice was thick with emotion as he put his hand on her stomach lovingly, holding Tiff in his arms.

  “You’re here now,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

  Serenity wiped her cheeks and looked away.

  “Want to get out of here?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I would love to give them some privacy. Do you mind?”

  “I want to take you home.”

  “Home?” Her brow furrowed in confusion and he warned himself to slow down.

  “I promised you dinner—I was really hoping that you’d be able to sneak away for a few hours.”

  They watched Jonas and Tiffany embrace, the dogs at their feet.

  “Maybe longer,” she said. “God, I am so thankful he came home. He loves her so much, doesn’t he?”

  Ryker could see the love Jonas had for Tiffany as well as Serenity could. So why couldn’t she recognize the love he had for her?

  Chapter Twelve

  Serenity left with Ryker in his brick-red Mitsubishi Outlander. “Electric hybrid,” he said.

  “Do you like it?” She got in and smoothed her hand over the leather dash. “I don’t even own a car.”

  “No vehicle?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Crazy, I know…” She shook her head at him but smiled. “We should talk about lessening your carbon footprint...”

  He laughed. “This is the best compromise for me—though I mostly walk to work and home. You have this idea that I’m all about saving the planet,” he said with a teasing lilt, “but I just really care about my section of beach. All six hundred and sixty-three of them in Florida.”

  She loved his sense of humor—dry, and subtle. A girl had to pay attention. She liked that he knew how many beaches there were and wondered if his visiting them all could be part of his “raise awareness” campaign. He’d need a photographer. She gripped her cell phone.

  What the hell was she doing? Playing with fire. But her conversation with Tiff about glowing, and home, and forgiveness, combined with Ryker being so amazing made it very hard for her to remember to guard her heart.

  They drove a mile to the beach and a section of “old Florida” condos. “I can’t wait to see your space. A person’s home says a lot about them. What secrets do you have, Ryker?”

  His hand tightened on the wheel. “I’m an open book.”

  Interesting reaction. The man was complex with a capital C.

  They parked outside on a cement strip before a white two-story condo. “One condo, or more?”

  “Originally there were four units, one bedroom, one bath in each. I renovated, tore down some walls and made my place two-bedroom with two-baths, and the two back units, single master bedrooms with adjoining baths—one up, one down.”

  “To rent them out?”

  “Yeah. Make my property work for me.”

  She lightly punched his arm. “You’re not just a pretty face, Ryker.”

  He winked, and they got out of the car. Her gaze was drawn to the vista before her, the freshly painted cement building white against the beige sand dunes, blue water and skies, varied shades of green in the sea grass and palm trees. It was a tropical oasis.

  She felt him watching her reaction—so she made sure to exude her joy for him. He could be so content here.

  They entered from the right side into a living area tiled in beige and white, the walls alternately dark blue and light blue with stark white trim—very nautical, with brass and metal fittings on the doors.

  “This is like a resort,” she said, her hand covering her mouth. She reached for her phone to take pictures but then stopped to just admire the work he’d put in.

  Pictures could wait.

  Living area to the left, a spacious kitchen to the right, and windows everywhere. A multi-paned glass door overlooked a back patio with driftwood-style furniture and ceramic pots. Wind chimes, and palm trees. A hammock. It was all inviting and she could see Ryker cracking a beer open at the end of a long shift at the fire station to relax and watch the waves.

  A half-bath was at the west side of the hall, and to the east, the master bedroom with adjoining bath. Upstairs was another living area that was perfect for parties. A bedroom above the kitchen and an office with a futon for guests.

  “You should be so proud,” she said. “What does your family think?”

  “They haven’t seen it yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I literally just put the last coat on the trim yesterday.” He sank his hands in his jean pockets, the red of his untucked flannel shirt falling over them. “You’re the first.”

  The way he said that made her heart skip—the first.

  He’d been her first, and only, love. She sensed there was more to his statement but didn’t push. She’d been brutally honest with her sister about being scared of falling in love with Ryker. They’d changed into different people and she feared moving too fast. They were not the same.

  She noticed the small details he’d bothered with—a vase of fresh flowers, red roses. Romance? Why, oh why couldn’t they just have a fling to enjoy each other while she was here, and then move on?

  But they couldn’t have that. A kiss, a touch, his thoughtfulness, it was all more—and she wanted to run, even as she held out her hands for him. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  He clasped her fingers. “I put together a lasagna for dinner.”

  “Lasagna?”

  “Fresh salad, green beans—but I cheated and bought the cannoli.”

  She dropped her head back and laughed. “Thank God you’re human.”

  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  She was on fire for him and wine would lower her defenses. “I’d better wait to have a drink with dinner.”

  “Would you like to sit out on the patio?”

  Nodding, she allowed him to tug her down the hall toward the glass door. She halted at the open bedroom. This was his most private place…and he’d left the door open for her. “You didn’t show me this,” she said, tempting fate.

  He stopped and peered into her eyes. She loved his height, his strength. The fact that he’d done this w
ith his own hands. She lifted his knuckles to her mouth and brushed her lips across his skin.

  “I…we don’t have to.” His voice had dropped. “I really just wanted to make you dinner.”

  “Liar,” she teased. “This entire house is a seduction.”

  His cheeks flushed. “I hoped you would like it. I can’t deny that.”

  “I do…”

  “But?”

  “No buts.” If she let herself think too much, she would talk herself out of something wonderful. He cared for her, she knew it, and she cared for him. They could take this slow.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, palms skimming his shoulders, to tug at the short waves on his nape. “Kiss me?”

  His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, and he lowered his mouth to capture hers, skillfully darting his tongue between her parted lips.

  Desire. “Ryker.”

  He ushered her backward to the bed until the mattress hit her knees, and then lowered her down.

  ***

  “Serenity.”

  He kicked the door closed, not believing that after all of his daydreams she was really here.

  Unlike the last time they’d made love, when she’d been practically naked in her bikini, this was a gift he wanted to savor as he unwrapped each piece. Shoes, socks, sweater, shirt, jeans, lacy red bra and matching panties.

  For each article he took off from her, she removed one from him—using not just her hands, but playfully using her teeth, fingers, toes. He was in the buff first, which allowed him to feast on her.

  Bra—lace, which meant the rose hue of her nipple was visible. He licked the nub and unclasped her bra, laying her back against the dark blue comforter. Her strawberry blonde hair splayed behind her like silk.

  He kissed her, tongues battling in a give and take, tasting, touching. Deeper, then back so they could catch their breath.

  He cupped her breasts, flicking his thumb over the hard peak. He skimmed his hand down the slope of her ribcage and followed the curve of her hip. There had never been a woman as beautiful, to him. Long legs, a scrape of red lace between them.

  She reached for him, stroking, rubbing gently, firmly.

  “Lift your hips,” he whispered, his brain a red haze of want. He scraped the fabric down her thighs and tossed the panties over his shoulder.

  She chuckled, which did wonderful things to her breasts, and he kissed his way from her feet, ankles, knees, to the sensitive spots at the side of her breasts, to her throat, earlobes, and at last, her mouth.

  Her legs parted, inviting him in. One hand braced on the mattress, the other unable to stop touching her wherever he could reach—he dove deep in one thrust. Her sheath felt like home. Her eyelids fluttered, her body quivered, and he brought them each to mind-blowing satisfaction. How could she possibly leave?

  “I love you,” he murmured, in a half-doze state, Serenity in his arms.

  She stiffened and pushed free from him, turning, naked, wild-eyed, her hair a riot of strawberry blond waves around her pale face. “What?”

  Not the reaction he was hoping for. He too sat up. He didn’t take back the words—there had never been any truer words he’d spoken.

  She brought the sheet up to cover her body, her green eyes big and round, filled with tears she quickly blinked back.

  “You’re remembering how you felt in high school. Don’t confuse things.”

  “I loved you then, and I love you now.” Why couldn’t she see?

  “No.” She clutched the sheet.

  “You can’t tell me how I feel.” He reached for her arm.

  She pulled away. “Don’t. We were just eighteen. It was a puppy love. Not soul mate love.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he said, hurt by her clear rejection. “I’m so sorry about what happened then. I’ve never forgiven myself for hurting you—if you would let me, I would make it up to you.” His throat ached.

  “I have to go.”

  “Don’t leave. I do love you.” He knew if she left, she wouldn’t come back. He would never see her again, never hold her again. The only thing he was sorry about this time around was sharing his feelings too soon.

  She trembled, on the edge the bed, on the brink of bolting. “How can you be so sure?”

  “I don’t know why or how—no other woman has ever measured up to you. I noticed on your social media that you haven’t had a serious relationship either.”

  Serenity seemed surprised that he would have checked, and she spoke defensively. “I was building my career.” She got out of bed, the sheet wrapped around her body. She didn’t say, the career he’d forced her to have but it hung there—would it always?

  “You’ve done a terrific job…you can work from anywhere, Serenity.”

  “I travel. All the time. I was thinking of getting a puppy. Not a boyfriend.”

  “I wouldn’t be a boyfriend—I want it all. I want us to spend our lives together. You can travel—let this be your home base.” Now he knew he needed to just shut the hell up before she went screaming down the beach wearing only his sheet.

  Her hair fell forward as she reached for her clothes, searching for her underwear and finding it on the metal anchor decoration on the wall.

  “You don’t find your soul mate in high school,” she said again, as if trying to change his mind.

  He didn’t budge.

  She ducked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Sick, he shrugged into his jeans and a t-shirt. Flip flops. If she wanted him to drive her back to Tiffany’s, he would.

  She stayed in the bathroom, and he knocked on the door. “My hope is that you’ll at least have dinner.”

  Serenity opened the door a crack and he saw her tears gathered on her mink lashes. “Fat chance, buster. Give me a minute.”

  Fair. She wanted space. Ryker went into the kitchen, and he only knew she’d left when he saw her walking down the beach, away from him.

  Away from his love.

  Out of his life.

  He’d promised himself that he would give her time to forgive him. He’d rushed it in his eagerness to make things right. What an epic fail. He tossed the lasagna in the trash and went for a cold swim. It didn’t help his broken heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Serenity shuffled bare-footed down the beach, away from Ryker, her toes digging into the sand. There were a few families on beach towels or beneath canopies, celebrating their holiday by the sea.

  Her heart ached so badly it made her feel sick.

  How could one man tear her insides out like that?

  It was too soon! Love. He was remembering old emotions and confusing them with now. She was doing the same. They weren’t in high school.

  They were adults.

  She reached down for a heart-shaped shell striated white and purple.

  Love?

  It terrified her.

  She understood the magnitude of such a gift, part burden, part joy. Growing up, she knew that her mother technically “loved” her daughters, yet, she’d been stingy with praise, or hugs, or affection.

  Serenity had talked to a therapist about feeling unwanted, and how she’d tried so hard to make up for her Mom’s neglect of Tiffany. Then Ryker’s rejection of her had really shaken her…she’d always wondered why she hadn’t been good enough.

  Being a social influencer, gathering followers, being adored, filled a hole in her. She’d shared her journey online, and people seemed to care. Over time, she’d learned that she had to forgive in order to move on.

  Would letting Ryker back into her heart be a mistake? He’d been so sincere in his apology. They’d been kids. Kids in love.

  Not adults in love. Per usual, Ryker had her in a state of confusion. She palmed the pretty heart-shaped shell. As an adult, she should be able to talk things over. She shouldn’t have run. Could they find a way to go slower? Her feelings for him burned hot, demanding to be acknowledged. This wasn’t her old love, but something new for the man he’d grown to be
.

  Love was compromise, and work, Tiff said, having added that with the right person, it was worth it.

  Serenity wiped her cheeks, surprised that she’d been crying, and pulled out her phone. She dialed Ryker’s number. No answer.

  She sent a text, asking him to call. She called again and left a message, apologizing for leaving.

  Her phone rang and she answered right away on a relieved sob. “Ryker?”

  “It’s Jonas,” her brother-in-law said. “I think we need to get to the hospital.”

  She took stock of where she was on the beach—less than a mile from their home. “I’ll be there in five minutes. What’s going on?”

  “Her water broke,” Jonas’s voice wobbled, “there’s blood. She wants you.”

  “On my way.” She stuck her phone in her jeans’ pocket and ran full-out down the beach, turning left at the shopping center access.

  Be safe. Be safe. Be safe.

  Serenity was out of breath, holding her side when she raced up the path to Tiffany’s house and burst through the front door

  Jonas was pale, Tiffany was flushed. She was lying down on the couch, a towel underneath her. Jonas held her hand, and Tiff’s phone. Tiff’s face was ruddy from crying.

  Serenity immediately searched for a place of calm to provide for her sister. “Hey, hon. Where’s your bag for the hospital?”

  Jonas pointed to the hall closet and stood up. “I’ll get it.”

  “Perfect.” She scanned her sister for any obvious injuries. “Did you call the doctor?”

  “We left a message,” Tiff said shakily. “We’re waiting to hear back.”

  “Were you able to speak with a nurse?”

  “The one on call.” Tiffany shook her head. “I left a message with the midwife.” Serenity could see how scared she was. “She said that false labor is very common, so we need to wait for the doctor before we go to the hospital.”

  Well, that was bologna. Serenity perched on the foot of the couch and touched her sister’s leg. “You are strong. You are going to be okay, and so is junior here. Right?”

  Jonas brought the bag to the front door. “I put the dogs in the backyard with food and water, and they have the breezeway for shelter if we’re gone overnight.”