“You are?”
“She’s a beautiful young woman—why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because she can be a horror show?”
“Here’s the person I’ve come back to time and again—the one who was there for me on the island. The one who I saw praying for me when it was just the two of us in that hut. The one who sat by my side for hours and held my hand when I was nearly delusional—am I to ignore that just because Daniella can often be a handful? I meant it last night when I said that maybe she needed a real man in her life. Somebody who would treat her well and wouldn’t jerk her around. If you look beneath the façade Daniella throws up because she’s been burned too many times by too many men, there’s a good woman in there. And she’s smarter and wittier than I ever thought she was. From our conversations alone, she already has proved that to me today and tonight. There’s a depth to her that I think no one sees because she’s always acting up. But when you get beyond that, and you do see that depth, there’s something worth paying attention to there.”
“All right,” I said with a sense of relief. “So, this is real?”
“It’s real.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. It’s just that I was concerned.”
“You’re always concerned about all of us, Jennifer, which is why everyone loves you.”
“I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“And I’ve already told her that I can’t promise her that. I’ve made it very clear that we need to take this slowly, and see where it goes. I’ve been upfront and straight about that. But let’s just get this straight—I’m the one who pursued her that evening at the bar. And I did it on purpose. I’ll say it again—despite how Daniella can come off, I’m attracted to her for lots of reasons that likely nobody understands. I do believe that if a real man got hold of her—like me—all of us would see Daniella at her best. I already have today. You just saw a bit of that a moment ago. There’s a lot of love and kindness in her, as difficult as that might be for some to imagine.”
“Again, I’m sorry,” I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “I never should have questioned your judgment. You’re one of the best men I know, Cutter. I just sort of freaked out when I saw what was developing between you two, and thought about the ramifications that would come from it if it all went to hell.”
“Hey, look, it’s understandable.”
“So, you like her?” I said.
“I do.”
“Was there, like, a spark or something?”
“I felt one during our walk today, when I reached to take her hand. And another one when we went to the Widowmaker, had a drink, and talked for a few hours. And earlier tonight, when I realized that Daniella knows a hell of a lot more about what’s happening in this world than I ever would have given her credit for—she surprised me there. So, yeah, there have been a few sparks. At least for me there has.”
“I think we both know that it’s mutual.”
“I hope that it is.”
I hooked my arm in his and squeezed his hand. “Sorry for the bullrush,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure that everyone here tonight has been questioning it. It’s not as if either of us didn’t expect some sort of reaction. It just means that you care, that’s all.”
“I hope that you two can come together.”
“After the day and evening we’ve shared, so do I.”
“I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation,” I said. “You and Daniella—it just seems impossible to me.”
And that’s when Cutter stopped me cold. He took me gently by the hands, and just looked down at me.
“There’s no timetable for love, Jennifer. Or for attraction to settle in and take hold. Or for a moment to happen between two people that startles them in ways that makes them see each other anew. But I’m here to tell you that it’s starting to happen between Daniella and me. And that I’m eager to see where it goes from here. I hope that you and everyone else will support that.”
“I do—and if others, like her sister, are resistant to the idea, I’ll make sure that minds change.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
I put my arm on his shoulder as we started back toward Alex and Daniella. “Oh, Cutter, my dear friend—and I mean that, by the way, because I do consider you a dear friend—if you think that Blackwell is the only one with a few tricks up her sleeves, then we clearly haven’t spent nearly enough time together.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Later, when the evening started to wind down, Alex and I stepped deeper into the living room and took note of who was with whom, which really hadn’t changed at all. During the evening, there were times when people mixed, but with three budding new couples getting to know one another, it was nice to see that new connections were being made on a night as meaningful as this.
Alexa and Justin were still talking in ways that were nothing short of animated. Earlier, when Alex and I tried to approach them to say hello, they were in a full-on heated discussion about the state of global warming—what to do about it and what not to do about it—and so we just smiled at them and moved on, not wanting to interrupt them.
Apparently, from the sounds of it, Alexa had found herself a fellow environmentalist.
Daniella and Cutter had taken to one of the sofas near the Christmas tree, and were looking at the glimmering lights and listening to the music while they sipped their drinks. They weren’t holding hands, but you couldn’t have fit a knife between them if you tried.
As for Blackwell and Marcus, never once did they part.
They had taken to the two leather club chairs at the end of the living room opposite where Daniella and Cutter sat, and Blackwell was so engaged by whatever conversation they were having that she was leaning in to him—nodding, gesturing, or shaking her head in disagreement. Who knows what they were talking about, but what was completely clear to me was that Blackwell was no longer acting up as she had when Marcus first arrived. She was being herself, and she was clearly intrigued by him. And that alone made my night.
Who knew what would come of any of this? It seemed as if this evening had turned into the live equivalent of match.com.
As for Brock and Madison, the second-most senior couple here, we caught them canoodling and laughing throughout the night.
“Total success,” I said to Alex as I reached for his hand.
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“I mean, just look at everyone.”
“I am. It’s wonderful. And baffling. But still wonderful. If you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I get it. It’s as if you rented a place for us at Club Med rather than Sugarloaf.”
He laughed when I said that and drew me in close to him.
And when he did, I turned to him. “Thank you for this,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed him on the lips. “None of this would have been possible without you. You’re so kind to everyone, Alex. It’s one of the many reasons why I’m madly in love you. I can’t tell you how happy I am to call you my own.”
“And let me just underscore that—I am yours.”
I pressed the palm of my hand against his stubbled cheek and kissed him again. “You know, for so many years, I never knew what happiness was. It always was this shining, magical, ethereal thing that forever remained just out of my reach. But look at me now—with you and the family we’ve built together, I’m the happiest girl in the world. Thank you for not only being my husband, but also for being my best friend. You are my gift this Christmas, and last Christmas, and all of our Christmases yet to come. I’m so grateful for you, Alex. You mean everything to me, and I don’t say it often enough. But you do. Don’t you see?”
“I do see, and it’s humbling. You’re the love of my life, you know?”
“I do know, because I can feel it. I feel it when we wake up together, I feel it when we work together, I feel it when you make love to me, and hell, I can e
ven feel it now. How did we ever get so lucky?”
“Those are questions for the universe to answer,” Alex said. Then, he took me into his arms and kissed me gently on the forehead and then on the lips. “As for us, we just get to enjoy the rewards.”
* * *
When the evening was over and all of us had gathered in the entryway, I retrieved Marcus and Justin’s coats—and was pleased to learn that both of them would be joining us for Christmas dinner.
“We’d be happy to have you both,” I said to them. “Consider our rented house your rented house.”
“Thank you, Jennifer,” Marcus said. “And also to you, Alex. It was a real pleasure. You know, if you hadn’t invited me, I would have spent the night drinking alone and thinking about Barbara.”
“The hell you would,” she said. “You’d be holding up your glass, happy to be rid of me.”
“You know, you do make me laugh,” he said to her. “And that doesn’t happen often.”
“And yet here I stand—nothing if not serious.”
But she wasn’t, because there was a twinkle in her eye and a trace of a smile on her face when she spoke. Was something really happening between them? Oh, how I hoped that there was. Please, God, give us this Christmas miracle!
“And how about you, Justin? I know that you’re here with friends, but we’ll be having breakfast tomorrow after we open gifts. You and Marcus are certainly invited to that as well. Would either of you like to come for breakfast?”
“As much as I’d enjoy spending more time with Alexa, I can’t let my buddies down,” Justin said. “They came here to support me because of the divorce and all. So, for them, I’m going to need to spend the day on the slopes. I hope that you understand.” He looked at Alexa. “And that you understand.”
“Of course I do,” she said. “Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow night at dinner.”
“And she will,” I said. “Your friends must be very close to you to have your back at a difficult time such as this, Justin. Enjoy your time skiing tomorrow—and don’t break a leg, because we want you at Christmas dinner, OK?”
“I’ll do my best.”
He was adorable.
“Breakfast tomorrow, Marcus?” I asked.
“I’m also afraid that I can’t make it, though I wish that I could. Believe it or not, tomorrow morning and afternoon, I need to work.”
“On Christmas Day?” I said.
“Managing a hedge fund doesn’t ever let up. But I promise that all of that business nonsense will be out of the way and out of my head before I arrive for dinner.” He glanced over at Blackwell. “Because I want to be present for that. And also for you, Barbara.”
“Don’t put this on me,” she said. “I eschew your business affairs, and will take no responsibility for any reason why you can’t find it in your heart to join us for breakfast tomorrow.”
And when she said that, the message was clear—Blackwell was indeed interested in him. She’d just baited him, for God’s sake.
“Would you like me at breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’m completely indifferent to what you do or don’t do.”
He laughed again at her dismissive response, and Blackwell just shot him a look, as if she found none of this amusing. But if you knew her as well as I did—and if you caught the look in her eyes that flashed for only a second—it was clear that she wanted him at breakfast.
“You know,” he said. “It’s still early enough that I could get a fair amount of work done tonight. And also later in the afternoon tomorrow before dinner. Breakfast would make for a welcomed break, if you’d have me.”
“Of course we would,” Alex and I said at once.
“You two are so predicable,” Blackwell said.
“We’ll be opening gifts at seven,” I said. “Breakfast at ten. Does that work for you, Marcus?”
“When I’m motivated, I can make anything work.”
“Well, how positively alpha of you,” Blackwell said.
“Actually, Barbara, you have no idea just how ‘alpha’ I can be.”
“Goodness!”
“Am I in my body right now?” Daniella asked. “I feel as if I’m floating in space and going toward a bright light. How about you, Alexa?”
“I’m right there with you,” she said. “Though I feel as if I’m heading toward a black hole—and I’m untethered.”
“Anyway,” I said. “Then we’ll see you at ten tomorrow, Marcus. And believe me, it will be very, very casual.”
“Speak for yourself,” Blackwell said.
“Fine,” I said to Marcus. “That one will probably be dressed in some sort of Chanel couture, but the rest of us won’t be, so please feel free to come as you are. It’s only for breakfast, for goodness sake.”
And it was then that Marcus Koch decided to turn up the heat on Blackwell.
“I’m only going to come if you ask me to come,” he said to her.
“If I ask you to what?”
“To come.”
“How rude.”
“To come for breakfast,” he said with a smile, again clearly getting a charge out of Blackwell’s sense of humor. “So, you know, invite me or don’t.”
“Fine. I would like to have you at breakfast. You can low-carb it with the rest of us if you’d like.”
“I would like.”
“Then I guess we’ll see you here at ten,” she said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten,” he said as he came forward and gave her a peck on each cheek.
“Why were your lips just on my cheeks?”
“The question you should be asking yourself is why you leaned into me when I leaned into you? So, tomorrow?”
“Fine—but don’t you dare be late. I loathe tardiness.”
But as Marcus and Justin moved toward the door and opened it, Marcus turned to her just before he left. “I won’t be late. So, good night. And sleep tight—if you can.”
And with that, he closed the door shut behind him, and I just looked at Blackwell, who had all eyes on her.
“It’s time for bed,” she said. “I’ll see all of you horrible, gaping, awful people in the morning. What a horrific evening. I mean, really! The presumption of that man. Apparently, it knows no bounds.”
She started to walk away from us.
“Well, it couldn’t have been that bad,” I said. “You did, after all, invite him to breakfast and to dinner.”
When she stopped and turned to look at me, she leveled me with a glance, but she nevertheless overlooked my comment, which was telling in and of itself. “Alex and you will try your best to keep it down for the rest of us tonight, won’t you? Yes? No? Improbable? Or is it impossible? Either way, shut your doors, try not to be selfish, and bury your faces into your pillows whenever the need arises. Because some of us need our sleep. Understood? Good. Now, enough of this. Good night!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Later that night, when the evening was over and our guests had left, the rest of us gave each other a hug before we retreated to our bedrooms—where Alex clearly had ideas of his own.
“Close the door,” he said. “You know, like Blackwell asked. To be fair, it’s probably not a bad idea, given what I’m about to do to you.”
And what are you about to do to me…?
A shot of adrenalin rushed through me as he dimmed the lights, and I shut the door and turned to face him.
“Take off your dress,” he said.
“Take off your suit.”
“Always my equal,” he said.
“Always.”
“But not tonight. Tonight, what I want for Christmas is for you to give yourself completely to me, and by that, I mean for you to let me take charge. Because I want to take charge. That’s my Christmas wish—for me to do everything, and for you to do nothing but what I ask of you. I told you that I’m going to make you come so many times tonight that when I’m through with you, you’re not going to know where you are or even who you are. Will you give
that to me?”
Giving up control on any level—especially when it came to my body—was never in the cards for me. But this was Alex, the man I loved and trusted implicitly. He would never hurt me—in fact, I knew that his intent was only to give me pleasure. To watch me writhe and moan beneath his touch.
So, I agreed.
“I’ll give that to you,” I said.
“Then, take off your dress.”
I took it off as he removed his jacket and tie, and opened the buttons at his throat so that his shirt parted, revealing his lightly hairy chest. Then, he sat down on the chair at the end of the bed, spread his legs wide open, and casually rested one of his hands on his crotch.
“Now, your bra.”
I removed it.
“Give it to me.”
I tossed it at him, and he snatched it with ease. “Now, your panties. But don’t throw them at me this time. Instead, come over here and hand them to me.”
I did as I was told, and when I stood naked before him and gave him my panties, I saw the desire on his face. He held them up to his nose, breathed in my scent, and then dropped them at his side as he stood up and took me into his arms. When he did that, I could feel the full length of him pulsing against my thigh.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said to me. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you, Jennifer.”
Before I could respond, he dropped to his knees, his mouth pressed against my sex, and his tongue entered me in ways that were so powerful, I had to steady myself by putting my hands on his shoulders. His tongue swirled inside of me—dipped and retreated from me—and the only thing that I could do was close my eyes, arch back my head, and give myself over to him. I gripped the back of his hair and moved his face even closer to my sex, but he was having none of that, because he’d already told me that he was in control.
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