The Sweetest Gift

by Scarlett Cole

  That made him smile. Somehow, Lexi always knew the right things to say to soothe his insides when they got all frazzled. “Fine. Let’s go tell them,” he said.

  “Petal is going to be pissed. She didn’t take it well when Elliott had Holly, and she liked it even less when Holly’s brother, Noah, came along.”

  “Yeah, she’ll take some persuading that I’ll still love her.” Jordan helped Lexi off the examination table and held her coat while she slid her arms inside. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close for a chaste kiss. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything in the last four years, but especially for marrying me and for this.” He stepped back and placed his hand on her stomach, still stunned by the miracle growing in there. “It’s the best Christmas gift I could have asked for.”

  “Well, perhaps I should take your real gift back to the store, then,” she said, laughter brightening her words.

  He shrugged. “Easy either way, Angel.”

  When they stepped out of the room, Dr. Cherry was waiting with the copies of the ultrasound. Twelve weren’t enough. He wanted everyone in his life to have a copy. Ellen would want one, as would Maisie. And he definitely wanted Lennon’s fiancée, Georgia, to take a look, get a second opinion on the baby, given she was such an accomplished doctor.

  Once the logistics of booking the next appointment were completed and Jordan was confident that Lexi was securely in the car, a Jaguar F-Pace he’d bought when he finally passed his driving test three years ago, he drove them to Elliott’s house. The band was scheduled for an end-of-year round-up before they called it a day for the holidays.

  He pulled into the driveway and for a moment looked up toward the attic. A light shone through the windows, new ones that had been added long after he’d moved out. The walls had thick insulation, the carpet plush. Daniel now used it as his personal den where he would hang out with school friends. It warmed Jordan to think of the once cold space being used for good.

  “Are you okay?” Lexi asked, placing her hand on his knee. He could feel her heat through the thick denim.

  “Never better,” he said, feeling a sense of relief that everything was right with his world. “Let’s get you inside.”

  Elliott had never asked for their keys when they had all moved out, and encouraged them all to come and go as they pleased. So, when Jordan and Lexi had moved into their house, they’d given everyone a key. As had Dred, and Lennon, and Nik. Five keys to five homes he’d always be welcome at. Just the sight of them made his heart feel fuller.

  “Elliott,” he yelled as he kicked the snow off his boots and followed Lexi into the house that had once been his home. A fire burned brightly in the hearth. As always, Kendalee had gone overboard. Trees in both the dining room to the right of the hall, trees in the family room to the left. Huge garlands of evergreens swathed the handrails up the stairs. And that hyper-annoying Mariah Carey song blasted from speakers around the place. Even the hall table had jars of candy canes.

  They took their coats off and hung them on the hooks by the door.

  “Hey, Lexi, Jordan,” Kendalee said as she came down the stairs. Noah caused a fuss in her arms. “Here,” she said, thrusting Noah toward him. “Work your magic, Jordan. He won’t settle.”

  Jordan took him and perched him on his hip. “What’s put a bee in your bonnet, bud?” he said, softly. He began to bounce slightly, swaying from left to right.

  “Teeth,” Kendalee answered. “Poor little guy is having a hard time of it.”

  Jordan looked toward the dining room. “I was standing in there four years ago when Pixie and Dred had enough of dealing with Petal teething. That’s why I was walking with her that night.”

  “I didn’t know that story,” Kendalee said. “You’re like the baby whisperer.” She nodded at Noah, who had started to calm.

  Lexi pretended to check out the decoration wrapped around the hallway mirror, but he could see her try to bite back a smile. He prayed he could be the same to their baby.

  The loud thud of a boot on the front of the door proceeded it being thrown open. “Motherfucker, it’s colder than a—oh, hey, Lexi. Kendalee,” said Lennon, shaking the snow out of his blond curls. He’d grown it again after Georgia had said how much she liked it.

  “Dude. Fucking baby,” Jordan said.

  Lexi and Kendalee both looked from Jordan to Noah.

  Shit. He placed his hands over Noah’s ears. “We need to get these kids ear defenders or something.”

  Georgia followed Lennon in. “Want to step out of the doorway there, Sweetie. Nik and Jenny are on the way up the road.”

  Jordan stepped into the living room and waited for Jenny and Nik and their three foster kids to arrive. Dark-haired Jefferson, a creative eleven-year-old, was the first through the door. Towheaded Henry, aged nine, was next, and seven-year-old Charlie arrived holding tightly to Jenny’s hand. The brothers had been in the system for four years, just waiting for someone like Nik and Jenny to want them, to accept them as a complete unit. They’d been with them for eight months and there were still adjustment issues.

  Nik came in last, carrying his guitar case, which meant he’d been working on a new song he wanted them to hear. “Fuck me, it’s cold.”

  “Children,” said Jenny, and Jordan couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’d think we’d have figured that out by now,” Nik said, laughing as he unbundled his scarf.

  “Daniel is up in the den if you boys want to go join him,” Kendalee said. He watched as the boys went up the stairs, just as Elliott appeared from the basement staircase on the other side of the kitchen. Elliott held the door open as Holly toddled her way up the last of the steps holding on to her little guitar. The little girl had got Kendalee’s strawberry blond coloring but her father’s determined stare, and her eyes said she’d been crying.

  “We’re late, Holly. Look, everyone is here,” Elliott said.

  She folded her arms and looked up at him. “No. Play guitar.”

  “Come here, Hols,” Lennon said. “Come sit next to me and you can show me how much better you play than your dad.” He patted the sofa next to him.

  “Funny fucker,” Elliott said, grinning as he swung Holly up into his arms and placed her down next to Lennon.

  “Kids present,” Kendalee reminded him.

  Jordan laughed.

  The door burst open. “Uncle Jordan,” the voice cried before he could see her. Petal. The apple of his fucking eye. The little girl who saved him when no one else could. “Uncle Jordan, I got a new dress.”

  A mop of curls that seemed to change between dark blond and brown bobbed behind the back of the family room sofa before appearing in front of him. “Ta-daa,” she said, striking the cutest pose in front of him in a red satin dress printed with large white snowflakes. Then she turned from side to side. “Isn’t it the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen in your whole wide life? It has a sash that Momma tied in a bow. See?”

  Elliott appeared at his side and took Noah from him.

  Jordan crouched down in front of her. “I’m going to need to see the back before I decide.”

  Petal grinned and turned. “It has white buttons, and Daddy let me wear new white tights because he said I keep ripping holes in them, but he also said a very naughty word, Uncle Jordan. He said the f-word. Fucking holes,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  Jordan bit back a laugh and then looked at Dred, who’d finally made it into the family room. “That is such a naughty word. Naughty Daddy. But don’t let me hear you say that word. It’s much too naughty a word for a four-year-old.”

  “Well,” said Petal, taking his hand. “I’m nearly five, so it’s cool.”

  Pixie joined them, placing a pair of reindeer antlers on Petal’s head, which made her even fucking cuter. “I’m just relieved the f-bomb wasn’t her first word being around you guys.”

  Jordan looked around the room. Everyone he cared about was here, in the spot where each and every one had proposed. Even
Nik had got down on one knee right where Jordan now stood. It was the place where they made big announcements.

  “Before we dive into all the business stuff,” Jordan said and gestured to Lexi to join him. He hadn’t thought how he was going to say it. And god, Petal was staring straight at him. But he couldn’t wait. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”

  “Cannonball,” shouted Lennon, and everyone laughed.

  When the noise had abated, he tried again. “Shut up, Ron fucking Burgundy. I’m pregnant. Well, I’m not. I mean, Lexi is. So, we are… both of us. Fuck.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out the copies of the ultrasound. “Have these.”

  For a moment, shock and silence filled the room and then the whole house erupted.

  Elliott threw his free arm around Jordan’s neck and planted a loud smack on his cheek. “Fucking yes, Brother.”

  Dred had swooped Lexi up into a twirl.

  “Put her the fuck down, you’ll hurt her,” Jordan shouted.

  Lexi laughed. “I’m fine.”

  There was a queue of people. Hugs, back-slapping. An immediate cancel of a meeting that was nothing more than a formality. And he was embraced in a wave of love that seeped through his bones, even though he’d never quite figured out why his brothers felt he deserved the affection. But he’d learned to appreciate it, to embrace it, to return that love to the men and women who now surrounded him.

  He looked over at Lexi, who was talking animatedly to Pixie and Georgia, and he realized he already had the greatest gift on earth.

  He was the luckiest fucking man alive.

  3

  Cujo Matthews juggled the pile of packages in one hand and his keys in the other. He had less than twenty minutes before his wife was home and he had to hide the rest of her presents before she walked through the door. Trent had finished the painting he’d commissioned for her, an abstract piece inspired by their wedding photograph from Las Vegas. And he’d picked up the red-sole shoes she’d been looking at that cost a fucking fortune but made her legs look spectacular. Then there were the last-minute bits and pieces he’d picked up for her stocking. He’d also collected the custom paddleboards he had made for his nieces, Amaya and Zephyr.

  It was slightly masochistic, but he loved the fervor of last-minute Christmas shopping. The mayhem, the carols, the bells, the overkill of Christmas decorations. He and Drea had a large tree in the living room, but he’d been given no say in the decorations beyond helping Drea wrap a billion lights around it. Still, it had given him time to check out her ass while he held the ladder steady.

  He slid the bubble-wrapped artwork under the bed in the spare bedroom, and he hid the shoes behind a box of his sneakers on a shelf he was pretty sure his shortcake couldn’t even see, let alone reach. The nail polish, earrings, and candles were added to the bag of small gifts he’d hidden in the back of his T-shirt drawer.

  Knowing she would walk through the door any minute, he ran a bath for her… a luxury she loved, but rarely had time to enjoy. He added a splash of her favorite bubble bath, the scent immediately reminding him of her.

  When he was finished, he wandered back down the stairs to the fridge, tugged the door open to look inside, then closed it again. He moved to the kitchen island and pulled out one of the bar stools before taking a seat. The marble countertop was cool beneath his fingers. He reached for the notepad and pen that Drea used to keep an ongoing grocery list.

  Napkins.

  Cassava.

  Gherkins.

  Plantain.

  With the pen, he added his own requirements.

  Sex in the shower with hubby.

  Morning blow job for hubby.

  Cash in orgasm IOU with hubby.

  He grinned at the thought of any of them happening. Drea had been consumed with her new job, and while he was prouder of her than he could express, he missed his wife. She’d finally graduated from the University of Miami’s journalism program earlier in the year, and now she was a junior assignment editor for WPLG, an affiliate in Pembroke Park. He’d willingly worked every hour he’d been able to keep them afloat, to pay her tuition, and keep the roof over their heads. All so she could graduate without loans. And she’d worked damn fucking hard to achieve the great grades she had. Now, she was starting the career of her dreams, and the pressure they’d been under was easing.

  Cujo glanced down at his watch, given she’d texted him twenty minutes ago, it would be another five or ten before she walked in the door. He pulled out his phone and looked at his messages in the wedding group chat. There was a message from Lia reminding him that it was his job to be the first to the church and make sure everything went smoothly as guests arrived.

  The sound of keys jiggling in the lock made him grin. He still got just as fucking excited when he heard that sound. It meant Drea was home and it was just the two of them. They’d known each other for more than five years and had celebrated their third wedding anniversary in September. But nothing had killed the way he felt about the firecracker who’d brought him to his knees.

  “Hey, Babe. I’m home,” she shouted from the hall. “Sorry I’m late. Jefferson wanted to review that municipal government article I was working on before I left, and the traffic on the 95 was heinous. What time is everyone coming over?” He heard the sound of her keys hitting the dish on the side table and the thunk of the heels that she always kicked off as soon as she got home.

  He grinned as she turned the corner from the hallway, a pencil sticking out of her messy bun. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool evening air, and she wore a skirt and a pretty blouse that matched her eyes. “Have I ever told you you’re fucking gorgeous?” he said, as he stood and walked toward her.

  “Hardly. I smell,” Drea said, sniffing one armpit. “Yeah, I definitely smell. Stress sweats.”

  Cujo laughed. “Yeah, but you are still gorgeous.” He placed his hands on her cheeks and drew her lips to his. She placed her hands on his and kissed him back. What started as gentle and chaste ignited into something simmering on the verge of him ripping her clothes off and taking her on the kitchen island.

  She was gasoline to his lit match. Just being around her was enough to set him aflame, especially when those full breasts of hers pressed up against his chest. He debated dragging her to their room, but then he remembered the bubble bath and forced himself to press one last kiss to her lips, plus one on the tip of her nose for good measure, because he loved the way her nose would crumple up.

  “I ran the bath so you could unwind before we need to start all the food prep for tonight,” he said. Her wide smile made him melt like a popsicle in a Miami summer.

  “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I totally scored when I married you.”

  “I’m even going to let you go bathe alone, despite wanting to strip us both naked.”

  Drea began to open the button of her blouse, giving him a peek at her lace bra. “See, such a good man.” Her grin told him she knew exactly what she was doing as she turned and walked away. The blouse slid down her arms, revealing the rose tattoo she’d let him do one Valentine’s day. It was the only time she’d let him go near her with his needles, but damn, the thought of her lying on his bed at the studio made him hard all over again.

  Wine. He should take her a glass of wine or something. And it would give him something to do with his hands.

  As he poured them both a glass of cabernet, he heard the creak of the floorboards in the bathroom of their home.

  “Brody?” His name fluttered down the stairs. “I can’t reach my back.”

  Goddamn.

  He left the wine and the glasses on the counter and jogged up the stairs, knocking on the door before letting himself in. The large tub had been installed to specifically allow the two of them to be in it at the same time. Drea was sitting in the bath, knees drawn up to her chest, bubbles all around her. “There is a spot back there I can’t reach,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

  Cujo grabbed a clean fa
cecloth from the shelf. “Well, we can’t have that,” he said. “Allow me to help.” He crouched down next to the bath and dipped the cloth into the warm water. Water poured from it as he lifted it out of the water before he pressed it against her shoulder blade. Wisps of hair that had not made it into her bun became wet, sticking to her neck, the long neck he loved to kiss and nip when they were being playful. He slid the cloth down her spine, watching as her muscles flexed beneath his touch, as she shifted in her seat.

  The house was silent except for the occasional murmur of approval from Drea. He loved the way she made those little sounds, especially when he eased inside her.

  He repeated the action, slowly but surely easing the cloth over her entire back, taking liberties to dip beneath the water level to the delicious cheeks of her ass.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Mmm. Perfect,” she sighed.

  “Anywhere else you can’t reach?” He let the water sluice over her shoulders.

  Drea leaned back, revealing her breasts to him with their dusky nipples ready for his attention. Her eyes were closed. “Anywhere else you want to wash?” Her voice was filled with longing, and far be it for him to be anything other than an obliging gentleman.

  He bit his lip as he dipped the cloth back in the water, starting at her neck and trailing it between the valley of her breasts. Her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling.

  His dick was harder than the granite of the bathroom counter, and the constriction of his denim was not helpful, but he was in no hurry. Water sluiced over her breast as he dragged the cloth over it, making sure to catch her nipple with his thumb.

  Drea shuddered. “You are being very thorough,” she said. “I like that.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, but it was the way she bit her lip that had him fighting the urge to just drop the cloth and dive in there with her.

  “If a job’s worth doing and all that,” he said gruffly. He dragged the cloth gently between her legs, pressing two fingers covered in the thin cloth against her clit, circling it the way she loved, the way she’d told him was her favorite way to get off.