by Kati Wilde
But there’s something else on the schedule next. After finding my pajama pants, I use her ruined shirt to mop up her inner thighs and the leather beneath her. All she’s wearing now is one fuzzy sock—I find the other beneath the couch and slip it over her ridiculously dainty foot. Then I spread her legs, because I want to kiss her but don’t want that dreamy smile on her lips to disappear. And it’s an utterly decadent treat to kiss my wife’s creamy pussy beside the Christmas tree, to kiss her slow and deep, and to know her soft sighs of pleasure are just for me.
That dreamy smile is still there when I finish, her eyes glittering with joy and love as she looks down at me. “Merry Christmas, Caleb,” she says softly.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” I rise up over her, swiftly kiss her lips. “Ready to open presents?”
Anticipation lights her face and she nods. “Let me grab a robe and—”
“No need.” I turn toward the tree and root through the stacks of gifts. The clumsily wrapped ones are mine, so they’re easy to find. “I’ve got this for you.”
She’s sitting up on the ottoman now, naked except for those socks and with her legs crisscrossed. Eagerly she takes the gift, her “Thank you,” full of warmth and surprise as she turns the floppy rectangle over in her hands. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
And no lie, I’m a little nervous as she does, because what the fuck do you get a woman like Audrey? If something makes her happy, she buys it. And she could easily buy something like what I’m giving her—she might have a thousand of them in her closet already—but I’m hoping this one will be a little more special.
Her lips part as she carefully peels back the edge of the wrapping paper. “Oh. Oh, Caleb. Is this the red flannel you always wear?”
“Yeah, baby.” Just a regular old flannel that’s been worn and washed many times over. But she told me once it looked so soft, and I’ve caught her petting it a few times.
She brings it to her face and inhales, her eyes closing. “It smells like you, too.” All at once she’s unfolding it, slipping her arms into the sleeves. Her eyes are shining with tears as she looks at me. “Thank you so much. I love your gift. It’s the best thing I’ve ever received. You’re so sweet and wonderful to me.”
“It’s just a shirt, baby,” I tell her, all fucking choked up, because I know she truly means all that and I didn’t really expect more than maybe a pleased smile and for her to wear it right away. But she shakes her head, so I shut up and hold out my second gift. “Here’s the other thing.”
Just a small box, so I’m guessing she thinks that it’s jewelry. And it is a ring, I suppose. Not for her to wear, though.
With a soft gasp, she pulls out the key ring. “Is this…?”
“To the Corvette? Yeah.”
“But you said—”
“I told you I wasn’t going to take money for it. And it might be a while before you can actually drive it anywhere, because I’ve still got a lot of work to do before it’s ready. But maybe there’ll be more robot cars around by then, anyway.”
With a laugh, she rocks forward and kisses me. “I love it. Thank you. And this just gives me even more reason to invest in self-driving car technology. Now it’s my turn!”
Clambering off the ottoman, she snags a thin present wrapped in gold paper. “The first!”
I take it, eyeing the other gifts. “Are these all…?”
“Wedding gifts.” Smiling, she plops down on the leather again. “We can open them over the course of the week instead of today.”
“Sounds good.” I tear open the gold paper—and find a manila envelope. “What’s this?”
“Open it.” She looks almost nervous, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as I open the envelope. “I know you don’t like me to spend money on you, and this isn’t really spending money, but something I wanted to set up for you, so that you can spend your money.”
“Baby…” I don’t even know what to fucking say. It’s paperwork to establish a charity—The Nicole Moore Foundation.
“Because I know you intend to give your inheritance away,” she continues softly. “And you can still do that—a one-time donation to whatever charity you like. Or I can help you establish this. Then you put your inheritance into it and let me take care of the investments, and over the years you can give away that same amount many, many times over, and all in your mother’s name.”
Oh fuck. My eyes are suddenly stinging, my throat clogged with emotion. I swallow hard, putting the paperwork aside and clasping her face in my hands. “I love you so fucking much, Audrey,” I tell her hoarsely. “And, yeah. We’ll do that.”
She smiles, so bright and beautiful. “I’m so glad. We’ll establish the Phoenix House and use that money for so many wonderful things, Caleb. You’ll see.”
“I believe it.” I’ve never believed in anything like I believe in her. “Thank you, baby.”
She kisses me, then pulls back—this time with the impish smile that I know and love so well, the one that says she’s about to do something fun. “And one other thing.”
“I’m ready.” Barely. My emotions are a ragged mess after that last gift.
In her fuzzy socks and flannel shirt, she scoots around the tree and hauls out a gold-wrapped slab—then nearly staggers under the weight. I lunge forward to steady her.
“Oh wow,” she exclaims, laughing and gratefully handing it over to me. “I didn’t realize it would be so heavy.”
She’s not kidding, though it’s more awkward than heavy. When I saw it under the tree, it looked like a painting or something similar—like a big wrapped canvas. But it’s got the heft of solid wood.
Her eyes are sparkling and she claps her hands together, watching as I set it down and start tearing at the wrapping, exposing a smooth slab of oak beneath. “I asked Patrick to make it for me.”
That explains the wood. Though I still can’t figure out what the hell…? Letters are carved into the face of it and—
“Oh shit.” A laugh busts out of me before I even reveal the entire thing.
It’s a sign. A giant business sign, with WYNDHAM TRASH in huge letters.
“I already own a recycling center if you want it!” Audrey exclaims, bouncing up and down in her excitement. “We just have to change the name!”
She really would, too. Laughing, I pull her close and kiss her hard. “No need for that, baby. This sign is enough.”
“You like it?”
“Fucking love it.” I look it over again, my heart so swollen it feels about ready to burst through my chest.
What I’m not feeling…is anger, or resentment, or any of the shit that’s eaten me up for so long. I still hate the Wyndhams. That won’t ever go away, I bet. But any desire to do anything more to them is gone. Over with. I’ve barely thought about them since meeting Audrey, and all the poison that was left in me disappeared after the night at their mansion. So going forward, I don’t want to give them any more room in my head or in my heart. Not even enough room for spite.
But this sign is pretty fucking amazing. Too amazing to go to waste. “What I’ll do is hang it up in your garage—our garage,” I tell her. Because that’s where my other business will be, restoring cars. “And seeing this sign up on the wall will make me laugh every time I look at it.”
“Me, too,” she grins, then suddenly bites her lip again, clutching her fist to her chest. “I feel so full right now. It almost hurts, how full.”
“I know, baby. I do, too.” I cup her face in my hands, searching her beautiful eyes. “You know what it is?”
“How much I love you,” she whispers.
“That, too.” With my thumbs, I gently caress her cheeks. “But it’s also the new world we’re building together, right here between us. It’s a hell of a lot to take in.”
She nods solemnly. “Like your cock is.”
A laugh shakes through me. “Yeah, baby. But you managed that.”
“I did.” Her smile is wide and she reaches
up, her fingers tracing my lips—tracing my smile, I realize. “I have a proposal for you, Caleb Moore.”
“Do you?”
“Mmm-hmmm. What do you say to the thought of trying to make our new world even bigger? Because I’m not quite ready for it yet…but maybe in a year or so, I can toss my birth control and—”
My mouth interrupts the rest. And I’m kissing her too hard to say it right away.
But my answer is yes.
15
Epilogue
Five years later…
“’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads…”
Our children are snuggled in bed, too—with Audrey between them as she reads from the oversized book on her lap. By the look of it, they’re almost out. Three-year-old William’s chubby cheek is half-smushed against Audrey’s shoulder, his head slowly dipping forward, and a line of drool darkens the silk sleeve of Audrey’s dress. On her other side is Nicole, his older sister by all of six minutes, and whose thick brown lashes are drifting downward even as I watch from the bedroom doorway.
Audrey glances up, never pausing in her gentle recitation, but giving me a clear signal with her eyes: Get out of here before they see you standing there and get excited all over again.
I grin and blow her a kiss, but get the hell out of there as commanded. Our kids are little miracles, but bedtime is always a challenge. Most nights, that doesn’t matter so much. If they keep us awake half the night, we adjust our schedules. But this is Christmas Eve, and I want to spend my anniversary night with my wife.
While waiting for her, I busy myself bringing presents up from the garage, where we’ve been hiding them from the kids. It’s the first Christmas that we haven’t spent at the lodge, though we’re heading up to the cabin right after Christmas. But the kids took part in a preschool play today—with William dressed up as a lamb and Nicole pretending to be a rabbit—and we wouldn’t have missed it for the whole fucking world. Neither had lines, but they were dedicated to their roles. We’ve had a rabbit and a lamb running around the house for a month.
I’m not surprised that when Audrey makes her way downstairs, the silk dress she wore to the play has been exchanged for her long flannel shirt—my old shirt that she makes me wear now and again so it smells like me—and fuzzy socks.
Pride fills her voice. “They’re already better actors than me!” she announces.
I laugh and pull her close, wrapping my arms around her. “You won’t be so glad about that when they’re fifteen and trying to convince us that they really, really are only going to the library to study.”
She blinks. “You think they’ll be lying? I was always in a library at fifteen.”
“Yes, but we’ve already agreed that they take after me.” Nuzzling her pale hair, I begin to sway with her. It’s Christmas Eve, the anniversary of our wedding, and I’m going to dance with my wife. “How many times did you have to read that poem to them?”
“Five.”
And even though they fell asleep near the beginning of the fifth time, she would have finished it before leaving them. Audrey couldn’t not finish. “You’re such a good mom, baby.”
“Do you really think so?” There’s a slight catch in her voice.
“I know so, Audrey. Our kids are as lucky as I was—we all have amazing mothers.”
Her breath shudders and she buries her face in my chest. I hold her close, letting her work through whatever emotion is hitting her so hard—though I can guess. Her own parents did a real fucking number on her, and although she’s mostly dealt with it all, now and again an insecurity creeps up on her.
But she’s the best damn mother. And has been from the beginning. Knowing how she fears pain, I suggested that we could adopt instead of getting her pregnant—but Audrey decided that she wanted to do it. So she did. And we had a whole lot of discussions with her doctors about pain management before and after, yet sheer panic still hit her a couple of times leading up to the birth.
That’s why we stopped after the twins. Not because she didn’t want to go through it again. I’m the one who can’t.
But two is a good number. Just like zero would have been. Just like a thousand could be. As long as she’s with me, the world we’ve made together will always be exactly the right size.
And she’s changed my world in ways that I hadn’t expected. Like quitting my job at the auto shop not long before the kids were born. Partially to spend more time with them—we both cut down our working hours, but I cut mine way back—and partially because Audrey’s more of an inspiration than she knows. Living with her, seeing the way she approaches work and pursues what makes her happy, made me realize how fucking stupid working at my job was. Because I enjoyed it, but I didn’t love it. And I’m not in a situation where I needed that job just to eat or put a roof over my head. So I saved up what I didn’t spend on rent that first year, and put it all back into my remodeling business. Which is still small and still slow, but between my work and my kids and my wife, I spend every minute doing what I love doing, and being with the people I love being with. Not everyone is this lucky. Hell, very few people are this lucky. So I won’t squander what I’ve been given.
And I’ve been given everything.
After a few minutes, Audrey softens against me. “I love you, Caleb.”
“I love you, too, baby.” I press a kiss to her silky hair. “You’re all right?”
She nods. “Yes,” she whispers. “You?”
I truly couldn’t be better. “Hell yes. The kids are asleep, I’m holding the most incredible woman in the world in my arms—all because five years ago, she married me. And because in about five more minutes, I intend to be deep inside her pussy.”
“In five minutes?” There’s a smile in her voice—and a husky edge that tells me five minutes might be too long.
“I want to finish dancing with you first.” I bend my head to tease her lips. “Why? Are your panties wet?”
“No,” she says.
She’s not lying. But her panties are always wet when I’m dancing with her. Which means one thing—and that one thing sends a surge of lust the length of my erection, hardening the thick flesh to steel.
“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?”
Her head tilts back and she gives me an impish little grin. “Nope.”
Fuck. Well, there’s only one solution for it. Hauling her up against my chest, I get her long legs wrapped around me, and we both groan as I slide deep, deep. Five years, and the wonder and pleasure of being this close to her never lessens. Instead it simply grows. Just like my love for her does. Five years ago, I gave her all the love I had. But she keeps filling my heart up with more love to give.
So I kiss her while she holds me tight inside her, and we keep dancing. Because tomorrow might be Christmas, but Audrey’s in my arms, making love to me—so I’ve already got the greatest gift a man could ever receive.
END
Looking for more holiday romances from Kati Wilde? Simply turn the page!
Also by Kati Wilde
Contemporary Romance
Going Nowhere Fast
(a new adult romance)
Secret Santa
(a holiday romance)
All He Wants For Christmas
(a holiday romance)
The Wedding Night
(billionaire romance w/a twist)
The Dead Lands
Barbarian Fantasy Romance
The Midwinter Mail-Order Bride
The Midnight Bride
Pretty Bride
The Hellfire Riders Motorcycle Club
The Hellfire Riders, Volumes 1-3: Saxon & Jenny
(includes: Wanting It
All, Taking It All, Having It All)
The Hellfire Riders, Volumes 4-6: Jack & Lily
(includes: Betting It All, Risking It All, Burning It All)
Breaking It All
(Gunner & Anna)
Giving It All
(Saxon & Jenny)
Craving It All
(Bull & Sara)
Faking It All
(Duke & Olivia)
Werewolf and Shapeshifter Romance
Beauty In Spring
(a short Beauty & the Beast romance)
High Moon
(a werewolf romance)
Teacher’s Pet Wolf
(a werewolf romance)
Upcoming Romances
Losing It All
(Stone’s book — Coming Soon)
The Midsummer Bride
(a Dead Lands novel)
Sheriff’s Bad Bear
(a berserker romance)
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