A Christmas Wish--A Contemporary Erotic Feel Good Christmas Romance (Darkest Fears Christmas Special, Book Four)

by Clair Delaney

  I look down at my plate, already feeling full and contemplate forcing more food down, but decide against it. “I’m full,” I tell him firmly, then stand and head over to the coffee pot.

  When I turn around I see he’s got his elbows on the breakfast bar, his hands are folded together and are pressed firmly against his lips. His chocolate brown eyes have turned to dark chocolate. He’s tense. I can tell by the way the veins are sticking out in his forearms, and the darkness of his eyes. He does not look like a happy man. But I will not be dictated to. Certainly not on the amount of food I do or do not eat – Jeez, I love him more than my life, but he really drives me crazy sometimes!

  “So what am I to do?” he asks; his eyes dark and foreboding.

  “Get used to it,” I tell him as I pour coffee into our cups.

  He sighs heavily. “Coral’ – “No Tristan, don't Coral me. I am not starving myself. I love food. I don't have, and never have had, any kind of eating disorder. If I had, then I would totally understand your concern. But you are overreacting and it’s driving me crazy!”

  He sighs again, unfolds his hands, and silently continues with his food. I add cream to our coffees, pick up my half eaten plate of food, feeling guilty that it’s going to waste, and place it on the side. And then a thought enters my mind, making me freeze – What if he’s not as attracted to me as he was before? What if he doesn’t find me as sexy as he used to? I swallow hard, and turn to face him.

  “Am I no longer attractive to you because I’ve lost weight?” I whisper, glancing down at the floor, I don't think I could take it if he didn’t want me anymore.

  “Coral, I think the fact that I couldn’t wait to be with you when I came home last night, and the fact that we have spent all day in bed, and the fact that no matter how many times I have you, I just want more, should prove to you that I’m crazy about you. I am a very happy man who is very much in love with his wife.” He tells me in a very formal tone.

  I can tell he’s still not happy with me, otherwise he would have stood up, come over to me, taken me into his arms, eased my fears, which in a way he has done, I know that he is still attracted to me. And I start to smile at his words – ‘I am a very happy man who is very much in love with his wife’ - Sliding back onto the bar stool, I pick up my coffee and take a sip, glancing at Tristan from the corner of my eye as I do.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him.

  With his plate cleared, he turns to me, wraps his arm around my waist, leans in and places a soft kiss on my neck. “Me too,” he whispers.

  “I’m in love with you too, but I do mean it Tristan. This has got to stop. I’m ok.” I tell him in a soft, pleading voice.

  “Alright,” he whispers, defeated.

  “It makes me feel guilty,” I tell him.

  “Guilty?” He questions, sitting up straight, his brows pulled together in concern.

  “Yes. I hate wasted food, you know that. So stop over filling my plate. I know you’re doing in out of concern but I also know you’re doing it in the hope that I will gobble it all up.” I raise a sardonic eyebrow at him, which makes his lips twitch with a smile.

  We stare at one another, for what feels like a long time, and eventually end up smiling, then grinning widely at one another. He takes my free hand, and entwines it with his. I lean in and tenderly kiss his cheek.

  “I’m right aren’t I?” I question, even though I know I am.

  He looks down at our hands and chuckles slightly, smiling that shy, cute smile that I remember from Munchies. The first day he took me to breakfast, the first time I heard him laugh, and I fall in love all over again.

  “Yes,” he chuckles, his answer hesitant, then suddenly he’s my broody man again. His eyebrows are pinched together, as he stares down at our fingers. He looks up at me, all humour gone, reaches out and places his hand on my cheek. “My only concern is for you, your health and your happiness.”

  “I know,” I whisper back, and place my hand over his. “But does it really matter that much to you that I have lost a few pounds? You know I’m healthy, I drink enough vegetable and fruit juices to assure you of that, and as for being happy...” I stop, feeling too overwhelmed by the look in his eyes – What is that?

  He takes a deep breath, and hesitates for a moment. “And are you...happy, here now, with me?” he asks.

  I sit up straight, feeling panicked that he is feeling unsure of himself, so it’s my job to assure him in the strongest possible way, how I feel about him.

  “Yes,” I answer firmly. “All of the time, which is a world away from how I used to feel. Don't you understand Tristan? My life, this life I now have with you, is everything I ever wanted and needed. I am happy, all of the time. Even when we fight, or I wake from a bad dream, or I’m tired and cranky from a busy day in the shop...at my very core, my very centre, I am happy.” I take a deep breath, hoping I’ve explained myself correctly, and eased his fears.

  “Just like me then,” he replies, and smiles so warmly at me, it shakes my insides – God I love this man!

  “Oh, and just so you know, I happen to like being this slim, I feel really good Tristan.” I add, purposely emphasising the ‘feel’ part – because I do feel really good.

  He raises an eyebrow at me, so I jump in again before he can say anything about that. “Promise me you won’t pile loads of food on my plate again?”

  He’s deadly serious now. “I promise, faithfully, that I will never do it again.” I feel the profound truth of his words, I can see it in his eyes, the intensity, the solemn promise made that will not be broken, and I feel like we are in the midst of our wedding vows.

  “Thank you baby, for understanding, and in return, I will try to...eat more...snacks...or something,” I say as a goodwill gesture.

  To this reply he grins widely, then turns to his newspaper, picks up his coffee and begins reading. And I say a prayer that the whole ‘eat more food’ thing has passed, and he won't moan at me anymore. Picking up my coffee, I slide off the breakfast stool, head over to the sofa and curl up against the big pillows, wondering what we are going to do for the rest of the day...

  I’M WOKEN FROM MY SNOOZE by Tristan getting to his feet, walking over to me, and then holding his hand out. I guess our very late night and extracurricular activities have caught up with me.

  “Dance with me?” he asks. And I notice Nat King Cole is singing The Christmas Song, he’s one of Tristan’s favourite artists, and I have to agree, he has a wonderful voice.

  I smile, feeling silly as we are both in our sweats and vests, but gladly take his hand. “Why thank you,” I tease as he helps me to my feet - And I know that we should take this opportunity of just us in the house, although in saying that, Tristan is not shy about dancing with me in front of Danny or Edith.

  He spins me once as we dance towards the windows, closer to the Christmas Tree. I giggle in delight as Tristan tips me back, my hair touching the floor, then brings me back up and kisses my cheek. Oh I love this. I love him.

  I lean closer, pressing the full length of my body against his so we are cheek to cheek, and on my tip-toes I softly sway with him, enjoying the song, the music, the moment. And feeling grateful that even though we do drive each other crazy sometimes, and we do fight, we also have the ability to say sorry and kiss and make up, the argument forgotten; I love that neither of us hold grudges. I ponder that for a moment - Maybe that’s what makes us work so well together?

  As the song comes to an end, Tristan tips me back again, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Thank you for the dance wife,” he says and pulls me back to a standing position, making me laugh as he does. And I’m suddenly struck again with the realisation of how different I feel, compared to how I used to feel. How much happier I am on a day to day basis.

  “What is it?” His hand is against my cheek, his humour gone. “I’ve seen that expression on your face maybe half a dozen times since we married. I’ve always wanted to know what it means,” he adds.

  I swallow
hard, and try not to get too overwhelmed as I attempt to get the words out. “Just...’ I shake my head, and take another breath, ‘its just that...every now and then, I get this feeling...” I look up at him, feeling lost for a moment as I stare into the depths of his big, beautiful brown eyes, his freckles, his dimples, his full soft lips – I’m swooning again at my husband.

  “Go on baby,” he softly prompts.

  I blink a couple of times, trying to re-fire my brain. “Um...ok. So, I just get this feeling...that stops me in my tracks...because my life is different now...” I look away, and frown at the floor, knowing I’m not getting this out right.

  “Are you unhappy about something Coral?” His voice is tender.

  I look up at him and shake my head.

  “I have no need to worry?” He asks.

  I shake my head again – Tell him Coral!

  “The opposite,” I whisper, he eyes are searching mine, trying to find the answer. “Tristan, when I think back to how I used...no, let me try it this way.” I take another breath, and begin blurting it out. “Every now and then, when I’m with you, I get this feeling, like a reminder of how unhappy I felt. I was trapped inside my own head, never moving forward. Afraid of everything and everyone, unable to really let anyone in, and love them completely, not even my own family, for fear of them leaving or rejecting me,” I take another breathe and continue.

  “It feels like it never happened now, that I didn’t go through all those years of such deep unhappiness. I don't know why that is, and sometimes I get a little scared that this is all so surreal that I’ll wake up one day, back where I was.” I bite my bottom lip, hoping I explained that right.

  “My life has changed so much, all because of you. I love...wholeheartedly now, without fear or hesitation, and it’s a wonderful feeling...it really is...” I say with a giggle-sob, my nose tingling as I try to hold back the tears.

  “Oh baby!” Tristan wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight. I reciprocate and wrap my arms around his back, holding him tight. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart beating, and rest my cheek against his strong chest. We stay like that for a while, and I melt against him, my sweet, loving man.

  “Coral...” I look up at him, resting my chin on his chest. He smiles so sweetly at me, I feel my legs shake with the adoration I see swimming in his eyes. “I don't think it’s just because of me,” he whispers.

  Always so modest - My sweet, sexy man.

  “Yes it is Tristan. You gave me the strength to believe that I could love, without getting hurt. You fixed my broken heart my darling, and for that I will always be grateful.” I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest again. I really love his hugs, and his kisses and his - “Baby, have you done any Christmas shopping yet?” Tristan asks, halting my thoughts.

  “No,” I chuckle, thinking how much I actually have to do.

  “Shall we go out tomorrow?” He asks.

  I look up at him. “You wanna take me Christmas shopping?” I ask, feeling gleeful that he does.

  “Yeah,” he chuckles, ‘unless you’d rather do it on your own?” He asks.

  “No!” I say a little too eagerly, which makes him smile widely.

  “Ok,” he laughs, ‘we’ll get everyone’s presents sorted tomorrow. And then you can relax about it,” he says.

  I frown up at him. “Why, do I look stressed?” I ask.

  “A little,” he replies, and runs his forefinger underneath my eye.

  “I’m ok,” I tell him, and take his hand in mine. “I just...couldn’t sleep without you next to me,” I admit, wondering if it makes me sound like a loser who has no life without him.

  “Me neither,” he whispers back. “Which is why I want you to come with me next time,” he says, serious now.

  I look down at his chest, feeling guilty. “Is that because you came home to me having a nightmare?” I quietly ask, feeling guilty.

  He tips my chin up so I have to look at him. “No, it’s not. I missed you. So I’m asking if you’ll do me the honour of coming with me next time I have to travel.”

  I smile widely at him. “In that case, yes, I will,” I say, knowing I’ll probably feel a lot better about it too.

  “Good.” He says, and lifts my hair from my shoulders so it falls down my back, and then he leans down and kisses my exposed neck and shoulder, sending shivers all over my body.

  “Tristan,” I mewl, my eyes closing, my head falling back to his touch.

  “Yes,” he chuckles, his lips still planted on my skin.

  “Take me to bed and then shower with me,” I manage to whisper.

  “With pleasure,” he says – And the next thing I know he’s swung me over his shoulder, making me scream in delight, and is running up the stairs, obviously eager to execute my plan...

  Tristan

  I LOOK DOWN AT CORAL, who’s busy wrapping Lily’s Christmas Gift on the floor by the fire as she watches National Lampoons Christmas Vacation - and I smile. Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas, or the fact that I no longer have my folks, maybe it’s both those things combined, but as I look down at her, I feel very lucky and grateful that she’s in my life. It warms my very soul. Work Tristan!

  I manage to pull my gaze away, I’m supposed to be checking out the end of year revenues, but it’s a damn hard task with Coral in the same room. Concentrate Tristan!

  Coral bursts out laughing at something that’s been said on the movie, and I look down at her again, completely captured. She looks like a fucking angel in her new cream jumper dress that I bought for her, her dark shiny hair is curled and flowing down her back, her makeup soft, making her look fucking edible.

  I sigh, knowing I’m going to have to go into my office if I’m to get any work done, but also not wanting to leave her side, she really is something. I see it all the time when we’re out and about - Men looking at her. Takes all of my will power not to have words with some of them, as they are so blatantly staring at my wife, and I can see how uncomfortable it makes her – but it kind of comes with the package. A blindingly gorgeous face like Coral’s will always bring unwanted attention, add in the killer body, and she’s every man’s fantasy – I quickly scratch that thought – I don't want any fucker thinking of my wife that way.

  My mobile vibrates. I place the paperwork onto the coffee table, grab my mobile and check it. An email from the flower company I ordered from last year. The Christmas wreaths I ordered are ready. I swallow hard, knowing this is going to be one hell of a difficult task, but one that I want to do – at least I’ll have Coral by my side this year.

  “Baby,’ I look down at her, feeling a lump form in my throat, ‘the wreaths are ready,” I manage to say. Coral nods once, and then without a word she gets to her feet, sits next to me, kisses my cheek and wraps her arm around my back.

  “Ok babes,’ she whispers softly, ‘you say when you want to go, ok?” With another kiss on my cheek, she lays her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes.

  I swallow hard again. “Tomorrow, I want to do it tomorrow. Danny can drive us there and back. We’ll leave early, miss the traffic. I just want it done baby.” I feel my cheeks flame as I think about it.

  “Ok, whatever you want,” Coral reaches her hand up, places it on my cheek, and turns my face towards her. Her lips reach mine, and tenderly she kisses me, making my eyes fucking water with how sweet she is. Christ!

  I pull back, kiss her forehead and stand. “I’ve got work to do. I really need to finish as we won't be here tomorrow.” As I lean down to pick up the paperwork, her hand stops me.

  “Tristan,” she softly says and entwines her hand in mine. “You don't need to do that today. You can do it in the car, tomorrow.”

  And I know she’s right. I nod my reply.

  “Come here baby, come lie down with me,” she softly adds.

  She cradles me in her arms, my head on her chest, and she’s running her fingers through my hair, her other hand is gently stroking my back – and I feel
like a child again. “I love you Coral,” I breathe out, feeling grateful for this.

  “It’s going to be a tough day,” she whispers, kissing the top of my head.

  “Yeah...” I breathe, and hold her tighter to me.

  “Did you want to stay over at a hotel?” she softly asks.

  “No. I want to come home baby,” I quietly reply.

  “Ok babes, whatever you want.” She kisses the top of my head again, and I feel wrapped up in her warmth. We stay like that for a while, and I bask in the feeling, knowing there is no other woman that could make me feel this way, so loved and comforted in my moment of grief.

  “Are the wreaths being delivered here?” she softly asks.

  “Yeah...all three of them,” I reply. One for Granny & Gramps, one for Coral’s mother, and one for Susannah – I still can't get my head around the fact that Coral wants to lay one against her grave – she’s too compassionate sometimes, but then again, I wouldn’t change her for the world.

  “I thought we could go see Granny & Gramps first, then head over to your mother’s grave. Get it all done in one day. We can eat out tomorrow if you want to?” I suggest.

  “Why don't we wait to see how you feel when we get back, you might not feel like going out,” she softly says, her hands still running rhythmically through my hair – it’s making me feel very sleepy.

  “Ok,” I murmur, my eyes feeling heavier and heavier as I drift away, safe in my baby’s arms...

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, we arrive at the cemetery. I’m trying to hold it together, for Coral’s sake – I hate being upset in front of her – but I cannot clear the lump in my throat. Opening the boot, I pick out the wreath for Granny & Gramps, and close the boot back up.

  Coral is there, at my side. She entwines her hand in mine, and looks up at me with sad eyes. I almost lose it. Instead I take a deep breath, squeeze her hand, and we start walking towards their graves. The day is incredibly cold and foggy, making it hard for me to find my way to them, but eventually I do.