He smiles widely at me. “Absolutely,” he says, ‘I’ll get Karen to sort the Bankers Cheque so when I get back next week, we can take the decorations and the money over to them.”
“Tristan,” I whisper, totally moved by his offer, and lean my forehead against his, ‘thank you, so much,” I whisper with closed eyes, as I think about how much they can do with that amount, and how many young kids they can save.
“They saved my baby,” he whispers back. “It’s the least I can do.”
I open my eyes and look up at him, actually feeling glad that I shared that with him. “Thank you,” I croak, trying to hold back the tears.
He smiles widely, leans forward and pecks my lips. “Right then, as we have a full day of decorating to do, I better get on and feed you,” he says, gently sliding me off his lap.
“I can make it,” I protest. “You cooked last night!”
“What was our deal?” he asks as he lifts me up and plonks me down on my breakfast stool.
“Deal?” I question.
“Yes, what was our deal when it came to being drunk, and dealing with hangovers?” He asks.
Oh! Now I know what he means – Brain is definitely not firing on all cylinders!
I smile up at him. “That we make sure we look after that drunken person, get them safely to bed, and take care of them the next day,” I say.
“Exactly!” he says, and with a chaste kiss to my lips, he heads into the kitchen and begins cooking up my breakfast.
I try to think back to the last time I was drunk, and that was when Debs was here. I ponder that for a second, and come to the realisation that I don't use alcohol as an escape anymore, which is amazing, considering how much I would turn to it, without really knowing that’s what I was doing, not until I met Tristan. He was the one that brought it to light. I dread to think how I would have ended up had it not been for him. A crazy bat-shit old woman, who smells of pee and is always pissed that’s how! I shudder at the very thought of it. And then I remember last night, and my thought that Tristan had got me drunk on purpose.
“Did you plan on getting me drunk?” I ask.
“I didn’t get you drunk,’ he laughs, ‘you got yourself drunk.” I frown back at him. “Coral, don't you remember? You kept wanting more shots of tequila, and after the fifth, I said no more, that’s when you continued with the beer.”
“Oh,” I whisper, looking down at the breakfast bar.
“I think you wanted more of the tequila, because you really liked the game,” he says with a wink.
I smile coyly at him, he’s right, it really was fun, shame it didn’t go anywhere. Then again, we have been at it like rabbits lately, so probably best to take it easy, let our bodies heal. And just as I think that I get a really naughty idea come to mind, so I decide to shock him, just so I can see his reaction.
“Yeah, I did enjoy it,” I say, ‘but next time, lets lick the salt from a more interesting place, like my nipples,” I add.
“Fuck!” He shouts as the egg he’s about to add to boiling water slips from his fingers, and splatters all over the floor.
And knowing it had the desired effect, I can't help giggling raucously as Tristan turns to me with a look of shock spread across his face. He slowly shakes his head from side to side, but he can't help smiling at me as I manage, somehow, to get down from the stool, walk into the kitchen, and help him clean up the mess...
Eight
I SMILE WIDELY as I stare up at the very large Christmas Tree that’s been erected in the living room, right next to the fire place. As promised, Edith has been cheerfully helping, on the proviso that Tristan put her Kings College Christmas Carols Album on his big stereo, which he did, and turned it up loud so it could be heard throughout the whole house. And right now, O Holy Night is playing, and even though I don't know all the words, I hum along as I reach up and place another bauble on the tree.
Then I turn, chuckling away to myself because Edith is merrily dancing around the kitchen, singing away as she places little Christmas ornaments that we picked out in strategic places around the kitchen, and right now she’s changing the oven gloves and hand towels to Christmas ones.
And I feel wonderful, and loved, and happy because we are almost done, and it’s almost dark outside too, so we’ll be able to turn the Christmas lights on that are all over the house, which I’m hoping will make it feel like a magical Christmas grotto, all of our own.
I gaze out the window, thinking about how much life has changed again. It really does feel like I’m living in a dream sometimes. And my mind wonders to Joyce, and I feel annoyed again that I didn’t get to speak to her today, in fact, no-one even answered the phone!
I close my eyes for a moment and push the annoyance away, because I don't want to feel like that. But at least I remembered to get Bob booked in with Dr Andrews - I’m surprised I didn’t forget in my hung over state - which makes me laugh at myself, and I’m back to where I was a moment ago.
Tristan appears, grinning from ear to ear with something in his hand. He walks over to me, and without a word he bends down and plants a sweet kiss on my lips.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi back,” I giggle, because I can't help it – I’m just so damn happy.
“Look what I have!” He says with the most animated smile on his face as he holds two bags up in the air - I instantly realise they’re chocolate Christmas coins, which makes me giggle again.
“Two bags?” I laugh, knowing I won’t be eating many of them as I find them too sweet.
His face falls and I immediately feel guilty.
“I never had these as a kid,” he says, ‘or as an adult,” he adds with a frown, which makes me think of the wicked witch he once dated, Olivia, and how she used him for all those years – Ugh!
“Hey,” I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him close to me. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t know that,” I whisper, feeling even guiltier now he’s told me that – Me and my big mouth!
His frown slowly subsides. “It’s stupid...I know,” he says with a sigh.
My face falls. “Tristan,” I say, serious now. “You put as many of those babies on the tree as you want to,” I softly tell him, squeezing my arms around him. “In fact, how many bags did you get?” I ask.
“Four.” His answer is immediate, so now I know this really is a big deal to him.
“Right, well why don't we put two on this tree, one on the tree in the hallway, and one on the tree in our bedroom?” I cheerfully ask. His face lights up as though he is a kid, and it is Christmas Day, and Father Christmas has most definitely been.
“Good idea baby!” he says, and with another peck on the lips, he gets to work.
Feeling triumphant that I managed to bring him back to a happy place, I walk over to the kitchen, as I do believe its wine time. We all deserve it after working so hard today to make the house look so nice, but as I move around the kitchen, I can't help watching Tristan. And as I do I get the strangest image come to me, of Tristan as a boy decorating a small Christmas Tree in a very small living room, and he’s happy and grateful and still enjoying himself – yet I know how much he struggled with being so poor – and then the image is gone.
Frowning at that odd moment, I grab the wine out of the fridge and pop the cork. Reaching up to the cupboard for the glasses, Danny thankfully appears, and hands the four glasses to me, and I think for the millionth time that we really should re-arrange where they are - my short arse can't reach up that high.
“Coral, I have something to tell you,” Danny whispers, smiling widely – The happiness in this house must be infectious.
“You do?” I say, smiling back as I pour wine into our glasses.
He’s suddenly serious and I can tell he’s struggling for the right words to say, as I very often do.
“Are you ok Danny?” I ask, and gently touch his forearm, knowing he still has deep issues with touch, as I once did – and I still do with strangers. So yeah, I’m still a little b
it fucked up!
He swallows hard and nods once, keeping his eyes down to the floor.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I softly tell him, and pop the remaining wine back in the fridge. Back at Danny’s side, I hand him a glass, which he accepts and knocks back a big mouthful. And I recognise the sign, he’s nervous, so to try and make him feel more comfortable by giving him some space, I pick up Tristan’s glass, as Edith seems to have disappeared, and begin to walk away.
“Wait!” he says, stopping me in my tracks. I watch as he puts his glass down, and reaches into his jean pocket. “You remember I talked to you the other day about how much I like Joe,” he asks.
“Yeah...?” I reply, wondering where this is going.
“Well, I’ve decided I’m going to ask her to marry me.” And I’m not shocked by this news, I’ve kind of been expecting it with how much Joe has expressed her love for him, but I smile widely at Danny, and out of his jean pocket, he produces a small black velvet pouch then he pulls the string open and tips the contents into his hand. “What do you think? Well, what I mean is, do you think she’ll like it?” he asks.
Sat in his hand is a ring - A small, delicate, very pretty square diamond, gold engagement ring.
“Danny,” I whisper, and place Tristan’s wine back down onto the side. I carefully pick up the ring, and inspect it. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, knowing it will really suit Joe. She’s tiny and delicate, and has really slim fingers, so it will look gorgeous on her.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asks again, and I can tell he’s nervous.
“Yes Danny, I really do,” I say, looking him in the eye so he knows I mean it, which makes him smile, in fact, I would say he looks relieved. “If you were worried, you could have asked me to come with you...help you choose,” I say, smiling at his happy expression.
His face falls. “I didn’t think of that,” he says, and now he looks annoyed with himself.
I chuckle at him. “Well you don't need to think about that now, because I think it’s perfect, I think she’ll love it,” I tell him.
“That’s good,” he says, ‘you won't say anything will you?” he asks, as I hand him the ring back and he safely stows it away in his jean pocket.
“No,” I whisper, ‘of course not Danny. Have you decided when you’re going to ask her?” I add, keeping my voice low.
Danny starts to perspire, he looks really nervous again. He shakes his head and takes another gulp of wine. “I’m bricking it,” he finally says.
“Are you worried she’ll say no?” I ask.
He shakes his head again. “I kind of asked her the other day if she wanted to get married again, and she said yes, then joked that she’s waiting for me to ask her, but I knew it wasn’t a joke.”
I frown up at him, because even though Joe has told him that, he doesn’t look so sure. “Sounds to me like she can't wait to marry and settle with you,” I tell him.
“I know,” he sighs, ‘it’s just I wanted to make a big deal out of it and ask her on Christmas Day, but to be honest Coral, I don't think I’ll make it. I don't think I can contain it for that long,” he says. And he looks like he’s having a mini panic attack.
I put my hand on his upper arm to try and calm him. “Then get it done Danny. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I mean...as in, it doesn’t have to be all bells and whistles, and all the crap you see in films. If I were in your shoes, I would ask her – like tonight. I’d go over, get down on your knee, present her with the ring, and ask. That way, you’re not worrying for the next three weeks and ruining your own Christmas with will she, won't she questions buzzing around in your head.”
Danny looks down at me, and again I’d say he looks relieved. “You’re right,” he says, ‘why didn’t I think of that – just get it done!”
And taking me by complete surprise, he wraps me up in a bear hug, which I reciprocate. “Thank you Coral,’ he whispers in my ear, ‘you’ve changed my life you know, I can't tell you how thankful I am.”
“We all love you Danny,” I whisper back, squeezing him tightly, and I feel relieved I said the right thing, because ever since Danny came to be with us, which I think was absolutely meant to be, he’s felt like a brother to me. He is my family, and I love him just as much as I love Gladys and Debs and now Malcolm. And that includes Edith too. And because of that, I know I would fiercely love and protect him, for the rest of my life.
He pulls back and smiles down at me. “Do you think Tristan will be ok if’ – “Take my car,” I whisper, knowing he has the spare key for when he escorts me to work and back.
He blows out a deep breath. “Ok,” he says, and takes the last gulp of wine. “Wish me luck,” he says.
I can't help smiling broadly at him. “Good luck, and send me a text so I know the answer – otherwise I’ll be worried about you,” I firmly tell him.
“Will do boss,” he says, and chuckles once.
“Get out of here!” I say, laughing too. And I watch him walk towards the front door, open it, nod to me, and then he’s gone – Whoa!
“What’s wrong Coral?” Tristan asks from behind me. Damn it!
“Nothing,” I lie, turning to look at him. I hand him his wine and click my glass against his, then take a well needed sip.
“Where’s Danny gone?” Tristan asks. Oh holy bollocks!
“Oh...he said something about picking a present up from one of the stores,” I say, shrugging my shoulders as though I have no idea.
“Ok,” Tristan says, smiling widely at me.
“What?” I ask – he’s looking at me that way again.
“Come here you,” he says, and placing our wines down, he pulls me into him, and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight – too tight.
“Can't breathe,” I manage to whisper.
Tristan chuckles, but releases his superhero grip on me, and I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. It’s strange to think that it was only two months ago, at the beginning of October, when Kane attacked us, so much more time seems to have passed. Yet when I look up at Tristan, I’m reminded that it’s only been a few weeks really since he’s been completely healed. And like me, he’s been left with scars too. One on his hairline from Susannah’s attack, and one across his left eyebrow from Kane’s attack, his skin was split so badly that they had to put in a few stitches once the swelling had gone down, but with a cold compress on his bruises every day, he soon began to recover – And the image of him cold and not breathing on the pool room floor floods my mind again – Argh! Go away!
I close my eyes and rest my forehead on his chest for a moment.
“Baby, there’s something I wanted to ask you?” He says which takes my mind off the memory replaying.
“Fire away,” I whisper, but as I look up at him, I can see this is hard for him to say. His cheeks are flushed, his brow furrowed, and he’s clenching his teeth.
Tristan takes a deep breath. “Last year...’ he takes another breath and slowly blows it out. ‘Last year, I placed a Christmas Wreath on my folks...” he stops again, and takes a moment. “On their grave,” he finally adds.
I reach my hand up and gently touch his cheek. “You want to do the same this year?” I softly ask.
He nods his head, and I can tell he’s fighting back the tears – Oh Tristan!
“Of course Tristan, you just say when you want to go,” I whisper, feeling my heart break for him.
“Thank you,” he croaks, and wraps his arms around me again for a moment. Then with a kiss on the top of my head, he says, “Baby, I better go and pack...ready for tomorrow. I’ve got an early start in the morning, and I don't want to be doing it then.”
I look up at him, and with a bright smile but heavy heart, I nod my reply...
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Tristan wakes me with a kiss on my forehead. I blink my eyes open, it’s pitch black outside, and the clock on the wall reads 5.15am. The bedside lamp is on, creating a soft orange glow in the room. I look across at Tristan wh
o’s sat on the chair, tying up the laces on his very shiny shoes. He’s evidently showered, as he smells fucking fantastic, he’s clean shaven, and his hair is artfully combed into place as he always does when he heads into the office, or has a meeting like this one. I can't help swooning at him. He’s suited and booted in a dark navy three piece suit, a white shirt, and a dark grey tie. He shouldn’t look this good – and I wonder for a second how many women are going to be gawking at him throughout the meetings he’s going to have.
Tristan smiles a little sadly at me, making my heart ache. He’s going to miss me, like I’m going to miss him. I feel the tears bubble to the surface, but push them back. The last thing I want is to make Tristan feel bad for leaving me, it’s just a business trip, he’ll be home on Wednesday, and I definitely don't want him to drive away with the image of me blubbering away like an idiot.
“Baby, did you want to stay in bed or say goodbye downstairs?” he softly asks.
I swallow hard as my heart constricts hearing him say that. My stomach turns and flips, making me feel nauseous, and once again I fight back the urge to cry.
“No,” I answer groggily, and push the covers away. “I want to see you off,” I add.
“Edith’s made you a Cappuccino,” he says, gesturing to the cup sitting on the bedside cabinet - Sweet Edith, I shall miss her too.
I nod and smile at Tristan as I slide out of bed. I glance at his bags that are ready and packed as I head into the en-suite, instantly wishing I hadn’t done, because the feeling of loss that I haven’t felt since I married Tristan, rears its ugly head – I try to push the feeling away as I clean my teeth and wash my face, but it’s not working – and once again I try to work out why it is that I’m feeling so strange about him leaving, as he has done before, but I get no definitive answer.
Taking a deep breath, I pull on my winter robe, and open the bathroom door, and there he is, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking amazing, and sexy, and very powerful and important. He holds his hand out to me, and without a second thought, I run towards him, place my hand in his and he pulls me down, knowing exactly what I want, and I curl up on his lap, inhaling deeply.
A Christmas Wish--A Contemporary Erotic Feel Good Christmas Romance (Darkest Fears Christmas Special, Book Four) Page 10
