A Family for Christmas (Willow Park #3)

by Noelle Adams

  To her absolute astonishment, her voice broke on the last two words and a tear slipped out of her eye to slide down her cheek.

  Gabe stared at her, stared at the tear, and slowly lifted a hand to thumb it away. Then something seemed to crack in his composure without warning.

  He made a rough, guttural sound and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

  “Oh, baby, I love you too,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair.

  She was shaking—almost sobbing—and it was absolutely ridiculous. She wasn’t this sort of person at all. She couldn’t seem to stop, though. When she pulled away at last, she was sniffing and beaming at the same time. “Do you mean it?”

  “Yeah. I do. I’m absolutely crazy about you.” He cupped her face with both of her hands. “I’m so sorry I pulled away. I was scared.”

  “I know. I understood.”

  “But it didn’t make it right. Not when you’re everything I never dared to even ask for.”

  Shivers of joy were running through her, and she wiped away a couple of stray tears. “Me too. Me either. Or whatever it should be. I had no idea I even wanted you, and now I’m not sure how I lived without you. Are you sure you’re not just overcome by my decline into tears?”

  He chuckled and pulled her into another hug. “That did kind of drive the point home, but I was already going to tell you.”

  “Sure you were.” She was feeling better—more herself—so she pulled back and gave him a teasing look as she closed the bedroom door behind her. “You’re just trying to take my accolades for being the first one to make the move.”

  “I really was going to.” He glanced back to the corner to the room, where there was a small desk by the window. “I have written evidence, so you can never doubt me.”

  “Really?” She peered over and saw a piece of paper on the desk. “What evidence?”

  “I was writing you a letter,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

  She gasped in shock and started over to look at the paper.

  He grabbed her to hold her back. “No need to read it now.”

  “What do you mean? I want to read it.”

  “But I told you in person, so there’s no reason to read the words.” He still looked slightly awkward and self-conscious. “I was upset. Really upset. It might be kind of embarrassing.”

  She giggled and pulled out of his arms, running over to the desk before he caught her again. They had a little scuffle over the letter, but he eventually gave up and let her read.

  It was only partly finished, but she scanned the lines and felt a swell of emotion rising in her throat.

  “Don’t make a big deal about it or anything,” he muttered, reaching for it again, although not persisting when she stretched her arm out to evade his grasp.

  “Why would I make a big deal about it?” She read over the lines again. “It’s not like you wrote me poetry or anything.”

  The words weren’t poetry. They were blunt and to the point and full of obvious emotion.

  I’m sorry. I love you. You must know how much I love you. I was just afraid of how much I was feeling for you and terrified that I would lose you. I didn’t trust you, and I didn’t trust God, and it was wrong. But I want to take the risk. I want to love you all the way. If you can forgive me for being an ass, I will show you how much I…

  The letter stopped there. Lydia’s eyes blurred slightly as she read it again.

  “I told you not to make a big deal.” He looked highly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t supposed to be in the same room when you read it.”

  “Why were you writing a letter in the first place?”

  “Because I was afraid I’d never get the words said otherwise. This way, it would be done, and I couldn’t chicken out.”

  She smiled rather besottedly down at the wrinkled page. “It’s like a Jane Austen novel.”

  Gabe groaned dramatically. “Please don’t say that. It’s just a stupid note. Here, give it back to me and I’ll thro—”

  “No!” She held the letter to her chest. “You’re not going to throw it away. I’m going to keep it forever.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. You can keep it. But can you please at least put it down now?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to kiss you, and it’s getting in the way.”

  She set down the letter on the desk, laughing uninhibitedly and then squealing when he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed with him.

  He settled on top of her, gazing at her with his heart in his eyes. “I do love you. I hope you believe me.”

  “I do.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I kind of knew it already, although I didn’t think you were ready to accept it yet. But now I have written evidence of that fact that I can save for posterity.”

  She giggled when he tried to glare at her.

  “But seriously,” he went on after a minute. “I want to be your husband for real. I won’t hold anything back. And I know it means you could break my heart if you want t—”

  “I’m never going to—”

  “I know it’s a risk, and I shouldn’t have been scared to take it. You’ve made everything about my life better.”

  “Me too.” Her face twisted briefly.

  “Don’t start crying again, or I’ll get totally freaked out.”

  She made a choked sound and tangled her fingers in his thick hair. “I’m not crying. I’m so happy I could almost burst.”

  “That’s okay then.” He leaned down to kiss her. “And I know you have a heart to work in India, and that means we’ll have to be apart some during the school year. And that’s fine. We’ll work it out. I want you to have everything. I want you to be able to do everything—I just want that everything to also include being my wife.”

  “Of course, it means being your wife. What do you think I meant back there? I do want to work in India, and I think I can do some good there. I’m not going to give that up. But it doesn’t have to look exactly the way I thought it would. Maybe I could work it out so I’m only there half the year. I’ll talk to them. I don’t want to be away from you and Ellie for that long. I want to have India and you and Ellie too, if I can.”

  “Then you will,” he said hoarsely, leaning to kiss her again. “We’ll do whatever we need to, to make it work.”

  She pulled his head down, because she wanted to kiss him again. And then the kiss deepened until neither could keep talking anymore.

  Soon, they were pulling off each other’s clothes and kissing and caressing with almost frantic need.

  When Gabe slid himself inside her, Lydia arched up and gasped out his name.

  “Lydia,” Gabe mumbled against her skin, his face buried in her neck as he held himself so tensely he was shaking with it. “I love you. I love you.”

  She arched again in pleasure at the sound of his saying the words.

  He was filling her completely—tight and aching and unbearably good. And she was flushed with heat and urgency and already clawing at his shoulders.

  When he began to thrust at last, they built up a fast, hungry rhythm—Gabe grunting out primitive sounds of effort and pleasure and Lydia biting her lower lip to keep from crying out.

  She couldn’t restrain the impulse for long, but it didn’t seem to matter. Gabe was just as out of control as she was as they moved eagerly together, their damp skin clinging and their bodies slapping on each in-stroke.

  Every time he pushed into her, Gabe rasped out, “I love you,” and every time she heard it, Lydia cried out, “Yes!”

  She was on the verging of coming when she met and held his gaze. His blue eyes were hot and needy, and they didn’t look away from hers.

  He was seeing her for real—in all of her brokenness and humanness and messy feelings. He was making love to who she really was. Lydia came on the knowledge.

  Gabe followed quickly, her clenching, shuddering body pulling him into climax as well.

  She clung to
him as she came down, her chest aching with breathlessness and her body so hot she thought she might melt. But she loved the feel of him, his heated, sated weight on top of her, the way he seemed to have let himself go completely.

  Like he understood that she was making love to him—in all of his brokenness, humanness, and messiness—too.

  Gabe buried his face in the crook of her neck again and mumbled against her throat, “Lydia, Lydia.”

  She arched her neck into his fumbling kisses. “Oh, Gabe, I love you so much.”

  He murmured his agreement, still pressing his lips against her flushed skin. Then he raised his head and said, a familiar dryness to his voice, “This might be the best Christmas ever.”

  Lydia could hardly disagree.

  ***

  The next morning, she woke up to find that Gabe was already awake, lying in bed and watching her.

  She smiled, remembering everything that had happened, how what was broken between them had been miraculously remade.

  He smiled back. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you.” She scooted over a little closer to him.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you.” She was having trouble containing her happiness. While it was unlikely she would feel this level of joy for a long time, she was definitely going to enjoy it for the time being.

  “You look happy.”

  “I am happy.” She recognized an answering feeling in his own eyes, so she added, “You look happy too.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I got you a really good present.”

  “I would certainly hope so.” He did a pretty good job of looking aloof, until he added, “What did you get me?”

  “I’m not going to just come out and tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a present. It’s under the tree. You have to wait to open it. And don’t forget to act surprised when you open Ellie’s tie for you.”

  “I know. I’m good at acting surprised.”

  “I supposed you just acted surprised last night when I showed up at your door to make me feel better.”

  “Right. That’s exactly what happened.” His lips and eyes were both smiling.

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, fine. I was so shocked and overjoyed I couldn’t even move. But I’m well-known for my composure and aplomb in the corporate world, so let’s try not to let the news get around.”

  She giggled and rolled over on top of him. “You’re well-known for your aplomb, are you?”

  “Right.” His hands settled on her hips.

  “Maybe I should discover how much aplomb you really have.”

  His eyes got suddenly hot. “Go right ahead.”

  “Dad? Aunt Lydia?” The voice was just outside the door.

  Gabe smothered a groan, and Lydia giggled as she rolled off him.

  “Come on in, Ellie,” Gabe called out, sitting up in the bed.

  Ellie opened the door. “Oh, good,” she said, grinning at them. “You’re in bed. Stay there and don’t move.”

  Lydia and Gabe gave each other questioning looks, but they did as she’d instructed as Ellie disappeared.

  They heard her running down the stairs. After a minute, they heard her coming back up more slowly.

  She appeared carrying, very carefully, a loaded tray in her arms. “I made you breakfast in bed for Christmas!”

  Lydia gasped in surprise, and turned to look at Gabe, who was obviously just as surprised as she was.

  “Thank you so much,” Gabe said, as the girl walked over to the bed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. It seemed like a Christmas-y thing to do.” Ellie was beaming at them.

  “No one has ever made me breakfast in bed before,” Lydia said. “I’m so excited about it!”

  Lydia’s smile faltered in astonishment and feeling when she saw the frozen waffles that Ellie had toasted and plated up on the tray.

  They were decorated with berries, whipped cream from a spray container, and chocolate syrup.

  She’d written “Dad” on Gabe’s waffle, and “Mom” on what must be Lydia’s.

  “I know you’re not my mom for real,” Ellie said seriously, looking nervously from the waffle to Lydia’s face. “But I couldn’t fit Aunt Lydia on it, but you act like a mom to me now, so I thought it might be okay.” She took a strange, shaky breath. “Is that okay?”

  Lydia raised a hand to cover her mouth, frozen by the crashing wave of emotion.

  “Is that okay?” Ellie asked again, looking nervously from her father to Lydia.

  “Of course, it’s okay,” Gabe said, rather hoarsely. He pulled Ellie onto the bed and gave her a one-armed hug. “Of course, it’s okay. She’s just really touched by it. Aren’t you?”

  Lydia nodded, lowering her hand and pulling herself together. “I am. Thank you so much, honey. I love that you put that on my waffle. And you can call me that, if you want. Or anything you want.”

  Ellie’s pretty face relaxed, and she scooted over her father to hug Lydia, almost toppling the tray in the process. “Good,” the girl said, settling herself between them. “I’m glad you married Dad, and I’m glad you’re having Christmas with us.”

  “I’m glad too.” Lydia was so full of feeling she’d lost her typical practical, no-nonsense attitude, but she assumed it would come back eventually.

  “And I’m glad too,” Gabe put in, “so we’re all agreed. Did you want to say a prayer for the food?”

  Ellie agreed and bowed her head to thank God for the waffles and the whipped cream and for Christmas and for Lydia and for her Daddy and for the baby Jesus.

  Gabe met Lydia’s eyes over his daughter’s head as Ellie said, “Amen,” and Lydia could see clearly see how full of joy and awe he was this morning.

  It made sense to her, since she felt exactly the same way.

  So they had the waffles, which were admittedly overly sweet and no longer warm. But Lydia had never enjoyed a breakfast—on Christmas morning or any other morning—more than she did that one.

  They were finished, and Ellie had carried the tray downstairs to the kitchen and was back to try to hurry them up so they could go downstairs to open presents, when the doorbell rang.

  They all looked at each other in surprise for a moment. Then Lydia decided she was more presentable at the moment than Gabe, so she got up to go see who it was.

  Thomas was on the front doorstep with a pan of their mother’s cinnamon rolls.

  “They’re still warm,” he said with a grin. “Mom said I had to take them over right away and insisted you wouldn’t be still asleep.”

  Lydia laughed and gave him a hug, which he returned with one arm. “We weren’t asleep. Merry Christmas. Come on in.”

  He walked into the kitchen with her and set the pan on the counter. Glancing around at the quiet house, he asked softly, “So is everything all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, unable to keep from smiling like an idiot. “It’s all good.”

  His eyes rested on her face for a moment, and then he smiled too. “Good for you. I’m really glad.”

  She understood that he was glad, but there was also an underlying poignancy to his expression that made her heart go out to him. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to not be allowed to spend Christmas with Gabe and Ellie.

  “We were about to open presents,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Why don’t you stay and join us.”

  He shook his head. “It’s your first Christmas. You should do it as a family.” When she started to object, he went on, “I’m fine, Lydia. Seriously. Mom and Dad are expecting me back at their place, and I’ve got to call Mia in a few minutes anyway. You all have a good time, and I’ll see you this evening.”

  They were going to her parents for dinner that evening, after having lunch with Gabe’s parents. Lydia was going to be so full at the end of the day she migh
t not be able to waddle home.

  “Okay,” she said, reaching out again to give him another hug. “I’ll see you then.” She hugged him tighter than usual as she added, “Thank you. For everything.”

  He was smiling in his typical dry way as they pulled apart, and they were walking toward the door when Ellie came racing down. “Uncle Thomas!” she exclaimed on seeing him. “Merry Christmas.”

  She gave him a hug like they were long-lost friends, and she and Lydia went out to the porch to wave Thomas off as he drove away.

  Gabe was coming down as they returned, and some sort of internal radar pointed him immediately to the cinnamon rolls. Ellie took hers enthusiastically, but she groaned as they brewed themselves coffee to go with them.

  When they were done eating, she demanded that it was finally time for presents and there couldn’t possibly be any more delays.

  Ellie had many more presents than Gabe and Lydia, so she got to open hers first. She was ecstatic over all the books and clothes and toys, and the necklace with a book pendant that Lydia had picked out for her was a definite hit.

  Then it was Lydia’s turn to open presents. Ellie had picked out a necklace for her too—a pretty heart on a chain. She’d also gotten Lydia a fantasy book series that the girl assured her she would absolutely love. Gabe got her books on jewelry making, to help with her ideas about work for the rescued women. And he’d gotten her lovely, soft pajamas with cars on them—“since you asked so nicely the other night,” he explained with a grin. And he’d gotten her pair of earrings that were nicer than any jewelry she currently possessed except her engagement ring.

  She loved her gifts, but she was almost more excited about Gabe opening his.

  “Open mine first,” Ellie insisted, plopping a box on his lap that was wrapped with more enthusiasm than skill.

  Gabe made a big deal about slowly unwrapping the paper until Ellie was squirming with excitement.

  Then he gasped as he opened the top to reveal the blue tie with books on it. “It’s amazing,” he said, picking it up. “How did you possibly find it?”

  “We looked forever,” she admitted, giving Lydia a little smile. “But I knew exactly what I wanted to get from you.”