by Nichole Rose
"I'm sorry, little star. I didn't know you'd lost your dad." Judging from the date of death, she lost him when she was just a little girl. She couldn't have been more than ten.
"You can't really lose someone you never had, can you?" She slips her hand from mine and kneels to adjust one of the arrangements that's tipped over on his grave. "I never met him."
Shit.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"Me too." She stands up again, reaching for my hand. "He died when I was nine. Before that, he stayed away." She turns her head to look at me, her expression somber. "He did some things when he was younger, things he wasn't proud of doing. He spent the first seven years of my life in prison. He came to see my mom once after he was released, but he was gone before I got home from school."
"Jesus, Lana," I whisper, my heart cracking in half for her. "I'm so damn sorry."
"He didn't believe he deserved me and my mom after what he did," she announces, matter of fact.
"What…" I have to swallow to work moisture back into my mouth. "What did he do?"
"He stole a car. The keys were in the ignition and it was running. He didn't stop to think about why." Her brows furrow, a shadow passing across her beautiful face. "The police found him about an hour later. They chased him for over an hour. He wrecked twice before he finally stopped."
"He stopped?"
She nods. "The baby in the backseat started to cry."
"Jesus Christ," I rasp. "Did…?"
She shakes her head, allowing me to exhale a relieved breath. "Once he realized there was a baby back there, he pulled over and surrendered. No one was harmed, but for two hours, that little baby's parents were terrified they'd never see their daughter again. My mom was pregnant with me when it happened. Seeing their grief when they came to get the baby, knowing that he could have seriously hurt an innocent infant…it messed him up. I guess he stayed away to punish himself."
"I'm so damn sorry, Lana," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her.
"Me too. But the thing is…he didn't just punish himself by clinging to that guilt and banishing himself from my life. Even if he didn't mean to do it, he punished me and my mom too." Her eyes meet mine, bottomless forest green searing into me so fiercely I feel her words resonate in my soul. "I never got to know my dad because he couldn't let it go and be with me and my mom."
I stare at her in silence, not sure what to say to that, not sure there are words to make her feel better or heal the hurt that had to have caused her. If she were mine, I'd never let her go. Every day, I'd fight to be worthy of her, to stay close to her.
"Don't punish your family because you can't forgive yourself, Sawyer," she whispers. "You're a genuine, selfless man and you love them so much. Don't let a mistake destroy who you are inside. You never would have let them get into that car had you known. Even if you don't know that, I do. Let it go and forgive yourself before the guilt consumes you like it did my dad."
She makes me want to let it go. Staring at her, holding her in my arms, I want to be the man she sees, the one she brought out here because she believed he was worthy of hearing this story and meeting the man she loves so fiercely even though she never met him. I don't think she lets many people know this piece of her history, but she shared it with me.
I want to be worthy of that gift. I want to love her the way she deserves to be loved: not with the jagged pieces of a heart shattered by guilt, but with every fiber of my heart and soul.
And to do that, I have to face what happened. I have to find a way to let it go.
"I would have moved heaven and hell to protect Savannah," I admit, holding Lana as tightly as I dare. Tremors wrack me, shaking loose the secret shame I've tried so hard to hide from everyone, myself included. I drag it out into the light for her, give her the truth I've never shared with anyone. "But I didn't do the same for Saint. I knew he was drowning but I was so fucking frozen that I just let it happen. I pretended I didn't see what was going on because it was easier than admitting that my little brother had a problem I couldn't fix for him. It kills me that I wasn't there when he needed me."
"Fixing him wasn't your responsibility, Sawyer. All he needs from you, all he's ever needed from you, is for you to love him," she whispers. Her arms encircle my waist. Her head rests against my chest. She hugs me so fiercely I think maybe she's trying to stitch me back together with the strength of her embrace. But she's been stitching all my broken pieces back together since I met her.
I needed a miracle, and God sent me one in the form of a magical little elf with a soul bright enough to light up even the deepest, darkest corners of my heart. He might not have meant for me to keep her, but she's mine now.
I'm not letting her go.
By the time we make it back to my place, the storm is pounding the coast on its way inland. Rain sheets down around us and gusts of wind rock the truck. I scoop Lana up into my arms and make a mad dash through the downpour to the front door.
She wraps her arms around my neck and tilts her face up, laughing as the cold rain drenches us both in a matter of seconds. I juggle her in my arms so I can unlock the front door, my heart feeling unburdened in a way it hasn't for a long time. I feel hope in a way I haven't in a long time.
I think I needed someone to remind me that it's not my job to fix or save Saint. He has to fix himself. All I can do is love him. I don't know if I can mend our relationship or if I should even try to repair it…but I do know I can't keep punishing myself for being human. He and I may never get back to where we were when we were younger. He may never grow up and learn to take responsibility for himself. But his path is his to walk. I can't do it for him or control where it takes him. All I can do is focus on the things I can control.
"Put me down," Lana demands, kicking her feet once we're over the threshold. Her sweet laughter washes over me, stroking like a thousand caresses across my skin.
The rain is frigid, but the chill doesn't register as my core temperature rises several degrees. Blood heats in my veins and heads south, stiffening my cock. I shove the door closed with my foot and carry her straight up the stairs, not stopping until we're in the master bedroom.
"Put me down, crazy man!" she laughs, wriggling in my hold. And then she looks around and blinks, sobering. "Oh. Wow."
My stuff is still mostly in boxes, but I can't deny how gorgeous this room is. The hardwood floors gleam beneath thick black rugs and cream walls. The back wall is glass, the French doors letting out onto a balcony that overlooks the hills and valleys of the city.
My bed rests against the opposite wall, the ornate wood and black and gold bedding giving the room a decadent, dramatic feel. The rest of the furniture matches. Savannah helped me pick it out before I moved. She did a damn good job because the room looks masculine but still manages to be inviting.
I carry Lana into the en-suite bathroom before setting her on her feet. She spins in a circle, gaping like…well, like a little elf discovering the magic of Christmas for the first time. She's so damn beautiful. She takes my breath away.
"Sawyer, your house is spectacular," she says. "I could seriously live in this bathroom."
"You think so?" I reach in to start the shower before I grab a towel to wrap her in while the water heats. The bathroom is large, with a shower big enough to hold a family and a whirlpool tub that stands in an alcove. His and hers vanities stretch across one wall, and the toilet is separated in its own little area. The marble walls and wood-grain tile appear seamless, like extensions of one another.
"Uh-huh," she whispers and then she cocks her head to the side. "Maybe I should have been a principal instead of a music teacher."
"We don't make that much," I say, chuckling at her. There's no way I could afford this place on my salary alone. Housing in San Francisco is notoriously expensive. "But I've made some good investments that paid off."
"You're a unicorn." She grins at me, water dripping down her face.
"A unicorn?"
"Yep. You're hot, inte
lligent, modest, single, and financially secure," she explains, ticking them off on her fingers while I wrap the towel around her. "Women probably throw themselves at you."
"Only one woman exists to me."
"Oh yeah?" Another teasing grin dances at her lips and through her eyes.
"Yeah."
"Lucky her," she whispers, her gaze dropping to my lips.
"Lucky me," I murmur, using my hold on the towel to tug her body closer to me. I brush wet strands of her hair back from her face with my free hand, smiling at her. Even soaked with rain, she's the sweetest little thing I've ever seen. "You're all wet, little star."
"Rain does that," she teases, tilting her head back to look at me. The teasing doesn't reflect in her eyes this time. Those are somber and serious, concern burning in their depths. "Are you all right?"
For most people, questions like that are just questions, asked because it's the polite thing to do when confronted with any sort of raw emotion. Lana isn't most people. When she asks, I feel her concern and the compassion that drives it. She truly wants to know how I'm feeling since my confession. We didn't talk much on the drive home.
"Yeah," I promise, tucking another strand of hair behind her ear. "I have a lot of shit to think about, but I think I'm going to be all right."
"Good." She burrows into my arms, cuddling up against my chest. "I want that for you. It can be your Christmas present to me."
"I think that's supposed to be my gift from you," I say, grinning at how damn precious she is. A heart like hers…God, the world needs more of her gentle spirit and unerring love. We would all be better off with more women like her shining their light in the world.
"Nope. Me cleaning up the mess I made in your kitchen is my gift to you," she says with a laugh and then she shivers in my arms.
Shit. She's probably freezing by now.
"Come on. Into the shower to warm up," I demand, swinging her up into my arms to carry her the short distance.
"Sawyer!" she squeaks when she realizes I intend to put her in the shower fully clothed. "You're going to get me all wet!"
"Hate to break it to you, baby, but you're already all wet." I pull her towel off and toss it over the side of the bathtub before stepping into the shower with her.
"Sawyer!" she shouts, sputtering in outrage. Her teeth chatter at the end. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold rain too.
"Shh, sweet girl," I soothe, yanking my t-shirt off over my head and tossing it toward the corner of the shower. "Just let me warm you up before you freeze to death."
"I'm not c-cold," she lies, her gaze roving all over my chest.
I'm not a vain man. Looking good has never been a priority in my life and what women think of me has never mattered. I've been too focused on my career to date much. I work out because I enjoy the physical activity after working at a desk all day. But the way Lana is looking at me makes me damn glad I enjoy my time at the gym.
I keep my eyes on her as I kick my boots off and slide them out of the way. The pulse in her throat flutters beneath her alabaster skin as I pop the button on my jeans.
"Ditch the clothes, Lana," I order her, my voice soft. "You need to warm up."
"Oh, I'm definitely warming up," she says, reaching out to place a hand against the wall of the shower. "Jolly Santa, Sawyer. How much time do you spend at the gym to look like that?"
"A lot," I grunt, working my jeans down my legs. It's not easy to do when they're wet and my dick is hard as a rock and she's looking at me like I'm the best thing she's ever seen. I finally manage to get them down and kick them toward the corner. They land against the wall with a wet plop and then slide down.
Lana gulps audibly.
"Clothes, little star," I growl, prowling across the shower toward her. As soon as I'm close enough, I wrap the bottom of her shirt around my hand.
"Wait!"
I freeze, the way her voice shakes on the word pulling me up short.
"Um, I need to say something before you take my clothes off," she whispers, tilting her head back against the wall. Her eyes are dilated, her cheeks flushed. I don't think her color is from the cold this time though. My magical little elf is turned on.
"You can tell me anything," I promise when she hesitates.
"If this is going where I think it's going, um, you should know that I've neverhadsexbefore," she says all in a rush, like she doesn't want me to hear her.
I chuckle at how cute she is.
"I know."
"You do?" Her head tilts to the side again, her gaze turning suspicious. "How do you know?"
"Because," I murmur, tugging her shirt up her gorgeous body. "A man would have to be a complete moron to get this close to you and then let you go. And men may not always be smart, but we're not crazy. There's not a fucking chance one would have let you get away after getting inside you."
"Oh," she whispers.
I grin, slipping my free hand under her shirt to touch her stomach. Her skin is still chilled, but it's warming up. She's so damn soft.
"You have the power here, little elf," I murmur. "If all you want to share with me is a shower and a few kisses, I'm okay with that."
"Okay." She nibbles her bottom lip, and then tilts her heart-shaped face up to mine again. With the steam swirling around her, she looks like a water nymph. "What if I want to share more than that, Sawyer?"
"Then I'll be the luckiest man on the planet."
Her bright smile saps all the moisture from my mouth. "I think I'll be pretty lucky too; you know. You're so incredible. Spending today with you is already one of my favorite Christmas memories."
Jesus, this woman. This sweet, beautiful, brilliant woman.
I never knew falling in love would be so effortless or happen so fast. I always thought it took time and growing pains and those little moments in between where everything slowly comes together to reveal the bigger picture. It's not at all like that. I think it happened the first time she smiled at me. Or maybe when she jumped right in and decided I was going to spend Christmas with her. I'm not sure. But my heart is in her capable little hands and I feel nothing but joy.
I tug her shirt up and pull it off over her head, letting it drop beside mine. My gaze roves over her, taking in every dip and curve on her body. My god, she is a vision in her little black bra with candy canes and mistletoe printed all over it.
I run my hands all over her, listening to the way her breath speeds, watching how her skin pebbles in response to my touch. She truly is soft and sweet everywhere.
"It's going to take a miracle to get these leggings off," she warns me when I reach for them.
I kneel in front of her. Together, we shimmy them down her legs. I have to fight to keep from burying my face in her center. Like her bra, her panties are covered in candy canes and mistletoe. Why that's so sexy to me, I don't know, but it is. The way she throws her whole heart into everything is so damn beautiful.
She is beautiful, a pale winter star shining bright enough to eclipse even the sun.
"Lift your foot," I murmur once we finally manage to peel her leggings down.
She places a hand on my shoulder and does as instructed, allowing me to pull them the rest of the way off one leg and then the other. I toss them aside and then sit there for a moment, just staring at her in awe.
She stares back, her eyes wide and dark with desire.
"You're the most beautiful little elf I've ever seen, Lana. Jesus, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" I ask, rising to my feet again. I wrap a hand around her waist, pulling her body up against mine. My lips touch hers.
"Show me," she whispers.
Chapter Six
Lana
"Sawyer," I moan, trembling as he backs me up against the shower wall with his hands around my waist. His lips are locked on mine, his kisses hot enough to make lava jealous. My entire body hums with desire like I've never felt before. He's barely even touched me and I'm already aching with need.
"Lana," he whispers agains
t my lips before breaking away to kiss a trail down my chest. He slips the straps of my bra down, kissing each shoulder and then the swells of my breasts. His body brackets mine. With steam swirling around us and water falling inside and out, it feels like we're in our own little world, completely separate from everyone and everything else.
I lean forward so he can reach the clasp on my bra. He manages to undo it a lot faster than I managed to get it done this morning. As soon as he slides the straps down my arms, my bra joins the pile of soaked clothes in the corner.
He wraps one hand around my waist, securing me against him. The other runs between my breasts and then over the right. His palm gently abrades my nipple, making me moan his name again. I never imagined such tender caresses could feel so heavenly, but they do.
"Steady, little star," he croons, his lips chasing mine again.
I loop my arms around his neck, drag my hands over his broad shoulders as he kisses me hard and deep. He is so darn big and strong. I've never met anyone like him, who is so wholly perfect inside and out. The way he loves his family is beautiful. He is beautiful, a sturdy oak standing firm in a fierce winter storm.
How could I not tumble headfirst into love with him? He is infinitely, fiercely deserving of it. There was no question of giving him my heart. He stole it without even trying. I think he might have claimed it when I first heard him laugh. Or perhaps he took it when he let me bulldoze my way into his life and his home.
The hand on my waist slips down my belly. His fingers tease at the waistband of my panties. All of my muscles clench in anticipation of his touch. I want it, ache for it. I'm certainly not cold anymore. All I feel is desire, licking like flames all over my body.
"Has anyone ever touched you before, sweet Lana?" he asks.
"No."
"Good." His little boy grin is full of possessive pride. "I like knowing I'm going to be the first one to have any part of you."
I like knowing that too. A lot. He's the only man I've ever wanted to have this part of me. Even if he never learns to love me too, I'll cherish this memory of him for the rest of my life.
