by Bellus, HJ
Roan pulls his hand from mine and I’m ready for him to escape out of the room turning his back on us. I’d get it for sure. I have a whole lot of baggage and it showed today with neon, flashing lights plastered all over it.
He toes off his boots and climbs in the bed. His huge body covers and swallows up Grace and me in a protective hold.
“Roan.”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Will you sing to me?”
His soothing voice works magic on me just like it did to Grace.
Chapter 11
Grace bounced back like no other racing circles around the Christmas tree as Jake chases her. Her squeals of laughter ring around the lodge. Brad already has Grace convinced that her scar is badass which in turn added a new word to her vocabulary.
I didn’t have the fight in me to scold either of them as I sipped on Dad’s spiked coffee. Grace should be in bed as it’s well past ten o’clock but considering we didn’t wake up until after six I’m choosing that battle.
The snow started falling at some point during our long nap and it continues to pound down. It’s a complete whiteout. It’s a good thing Mom is type A personality and has all our ducks in a row. There won’t be any need for any of us to run out to grab a gallon of milk or loaf of bread. There’s no doubt the snow plows won’t be able to keep up with this storm. We have everything we need in my home. One that’s been in the generation and will continue to be for years to come. Roan’s return was unexpected, but lit a stronger fire under me to keep fighting.
“Ooops.” Grace throws her hands over her mouth.
We all look to a present that has a large piece of wrapping paper torn from it. Jake gives her another nod encouraging her on. Mom stands to protest, but she’s too late when another large piece of the paper is gone. Jake does an awful version of his hand slipping and the final piece being ripped away.
“Daisy.” Grace jumps up and down.
Jake beams proud as he pulls the toy horse from the box. I snuggle down deeper into Roan’s side watching as Jake and Grace break all of the Christmas rules. It’s Jake’s thing. He pulls this stunt every year, but now has an accomplice at his side making it easier.
“Oops, Unkie!” Another ripping sound fills the air.
“Oh no.” Jake rips another piece of paper from a box.
“Damn you, Jake William.” Mom whacks him on the back of his head.
It doesn’t stop him from tearing into a present of his own. A new Xbox game from Mom and Dad.
“Let’s play.” Grace jumps up racing to the TV. Jake and Brad settle in next to her. She plays with her pony as the two of them game the shit out of each other. Roan and I listen to Dad’s stories about Christmases of us kids growing. It seems some things don’t change all that much.
“She’s out.” Roan kisses the top of my head and points to Grace on the bear rug sprawled out with her horse clutched to her chest.
“I’m not far behind her.”
It’s a lie. I’m wide awake and feeling good on the small bit of whiskey. The thing is I have to sneak Roan’s gift under the tree. I didn’t want to put it out earlier and have him thinking he had to buy me one.
I also pull off the lie that I sleep with Grace every Christmas Eve. He buys it pretty damn easily not even questioning the fact Grace is two. I damn near fall asleep before I play Santa. I tiptoe out of bed and reach up in Grace’s closet grabbing the wrapped box. Mom and Dad already played Santa putting all the other gifts under the tree.
Unlike Jake, I’m able to not look over my stash of gifts. I round the tree trying to find the perfect place and damn near pass out. A hand slaps over my mouth muffling my scream. Roan’s rich chocolate eyes reflect back at me through twinkle of the lights from the tree.
“It’s just me.” He drops his hand.
I step back clutching my chest with his gift. “Why are you hiding behind the tree?”
“You make me feel like a creeper when you say it like that.”
“Well, what in the hell are you doing?”
He holds up a present in his hand and then points to a new pile of them on the ground including one huge box that damn near comes up to my hip.
“We suck at this.” I set his present under the tree and step into him wrapping my arms around his waist.
“We sure do.” He grabs one of my hands rocking us back and forth. We dance to our own silent song. “Good thing we have lots of years to perfect it then.”
“This is going to happen and it’s going to be beautiful,” I whisper.
“Yes, it is and that’s the best present you could’ve given me, Poppy.”
I glance up at him. “What’s that?”
“You. Finally believing in us.”
Roan captures my lips with his. Our hands tear at each other’s clothes. Before I know it, I’m gently laid down on the rug in front of the tree. Roan covers my body with his. We line up perfectly each and every time. I relish in his touch as he devours my body. He’s done this every time. It’s like he’s never touched me before and this will be the last time. It makes me feel like a queen on top of the world.
“Roan,” I growl tugging on his hair as he sends me spiraling out of control.
My entire body goes limp, but livens up quickly when he crawls back up. Our lips crash once again. The taste of my release mixes in our kiss. It sets both of us on fire. There’s nothing gentle or smooth about the way Roan takes me. He pounds over and over into me his fingers digging into my flesh. It’s damn near impossible to keep my screams of pleasure bottled in. Every time Roan sees it coming he saves me by kissing the hell out of me.
One final grunt and Roan collapses down on me. Our panting together, breathing out in unison. I shiver underneath him. Roan picks up on it grabbing a blanket, rolling off the side of me, and covering us up in it. We share all of our future dreams and biggest fears.
“I love you, baby.”
“Love you, too, Roan.”
I barely get the word out before my eyes flutter shut. Roan’s even breathing lulls me into full slumber. It’s perfection.
“Poppy.” My shoulders shake. “Poppy.”
I open my eyes to see Roan panicked running his hand through his hair.
“Your parents are coming.”
This gets me wide awake. I bolt upright. The blanket slides down to expose my bare breasts.
“Shit,” I hiss as their voices grow nearer.
Our clothes are scattered and we are both naked. This isn’t good.
“I just want to check that we have all the presents under the tree.” Mom’s voice streams in.
“Honey, they are, but if it makes you feel better,” Dad grumbles.
“We’re screwed,” I hiss. “Play dead it’s our only option.”
“Play dead?” Roan quirks up an eyebrow in question.
“Pretend sleep. They won’t wake us and more than likely it will be too awkward to ever bring up.” I grab the side of his face pushing it back down to the bundle of blankets then flop down right next to him. “Close your damn eyes.”
I snuggle as low as I can under the blankets doing my best to conceal all my nakedness which leave Roan screwed with his exposed shoulders.
“Don’t move,” I whisper as I hear the footsteps inching near us.
“Oh my!” Mom squeaks out.
I can only imagine the expression on her face. This has to be the most embarrassing experience in the history of embarrassing moments. My cheeks burn a bright red as I focus on keeping a relaxed face. Roan’s fingers dig into my hips under the blankets.
“At least they didn’t open any presents.” Dad stifles his laughter to a dull roar.
“What is this?”
There’re beats of silence that drift by. “Honey, looks like a bra and a pair of boxers.”
“Oh my!”
Jesus, please get this pain over with.
“It’s what our girl needed, honey.”
“Sex under the Christmas tree. Are you serious?”
“Calm down. She’s an adult. What I meant is she needs Roan back in her life. This is a good thing. Granted something no parents should have to witness.”
“You’re right,” Mom admits. “Let me try to count the presents one more time, but let’s agree to never mention this fiasco ever again.”
“Agreed.”
Their footsteps and hushed whispers fade into the distance. Once I hear the door to their room shut I shutter.
“Did that really just happen?” Roan asks.
I try to answer him, but end up in a burst of laughter. Roan joins me.
“That was awful.” I scramble jumping into my clothes. Roan follows suit.
“If our brothers get wind of this we will never be able to live it down.” Roan leans in and kisses my lips.
“It can’t happen.” I kiss him back.
“Let’s go get Grace and put her in bed with us,” Roan suggests.
We creep up the stairs and grab our girl. Our girl it’s the first time I’ve referred to Grace as that. It’s been a short time since Roan has been in our life. I’m not concerned about what others may say or how their judging stares may hurt. None of it matters because it was Roan racing with me to the ER tonight with our girl in his arms, it was also the same man who sits on the floor playing with her, and also does his best to put bows in her hair.
I watch as he grabs her from her toddler bed and carries her to ours. Grace wiggles to the edge. I crawl in behind her tugging her to my chest. Roan does the same bringing my back to his chest.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers.
I reach back and squeeze his hand. “Merry Christmas to us.”
Chapter 12
“Mommy! Oan!”
The bed bounces and a tiny body jiggles us to wake.
“It’s kissmus. Wake up.”
I pry an eye open to see Grace jumping up and down on the end of the bed. Roan shoots straight up in bed grabbing her by the waist and bringing her down to his chest.
“You little monkey haven’t you heard you’re not supposed to be jumping on the bed.” He holds her up in the air causing her to giggle. “You already have one owie. No more.”
“Santa.” She claps her hands up in the air.
“Who?” Roan asks, bringing her back down to his chest.
“Santa,” she squeals again when Roan tosses her back up the air and catches. “Santa.”
Her giggles grow louder with each second. The mom in me sees the signs of an accident coming.
“Pee-pee.” Grace’s eyes grow wide.
Bingo. I grab her from Roan racing to the bathroom. This girl potty trained herself and has never had an accident. And by damn, it’s not going to happen on Christmas morning of all mornings.
“There you go.” I place her in her hot pink bathroom.
“Out, Mommy.” She points a finger at me.
I step out of the bathroom and close the door. Mom has warned me since Grace was born that she wasn’t a typical child and that I’d better prepare myself for the second because it wouldn’t be so easy. I never paid her comments much attention because there was never going to be a number two. Life has a funny way of swiftly changing.
Grace barely has her pajama pants up before she darts for the stairs. Roan is there to scoop her up. I had no idea he was behind me.
“Hold her hostage for a second, so I can use the restroom and brush my teeth.”
He nods distracting her by tickling her with the scruff on his face. We do a quick switch off so Roan has a few moments to feel like a human. It was definitely one heck of a Christmas Eve. One I’ll never be forgetting.
Roan kissed me on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom. Grace traces her finger over my lips and tilts her head in question. I have no idea what to expect but know something is coming.
“Mommy he kiss you.”
“Yeah.”
“Oan is you prince, uh?” she nods answering her own question.
I nod right back. “He sure is and he can be your prince too, honey.”
“No not mine.” She pats her chest. “He’s my daddy.”
I twist my lips not knowing how to approach this. I don’t have to because Roan heard all of it.
“Yes, I can be your daddy.”
“Yes!” She shoots her tiny fist up in the air.
I manage to keep Grace in my arms until we make it to the final flight of stairs and she’s off sprinting for the Christmas tree with her little arms swinging as fast as they can go.
Mom and Dad don’t make eye contact with me and for that I’m grateful. The entire family, including Grey, are perched on the couches and overstuffed chair snuggled up with mugs of hot coffee watching Grace. She has no idea where to begin clasping each toy to her chest.
It’s when she rips into the towering box from Roan that this gift has her complete attention. She’s left with a box that’s taped from the top. He stands setting his coffee mug on the table. I admire the view of him in Christmas pajama pants that Mom makes everyone wear. They ride low on his slender hips and that tight white t-shirt leaves nothing to the imagination. I force myself to stay far away from our memories under that tree.
“Here.” Roan tears the tape from the top and tips the box sideways.
Grace plops down on all fours peering in the box. Her high-pitched scream startles everyone. She hops up to her feet jumping up and down. Roan tugs the gift from the box but not fast enough for Grace. She reaches doing her best to help. Seconds later a buckskin pony that stands nearly four feet is hauled from the box. Grace wraps her arms around its neck, closes her eyes, and smiles wide. I’ve never seen her happier. Why didn’t I think of this gift? Oh yeah, because they cost nearly two hundred dollars. That thought makes me feel sick that Roan dropped that amount of money on Grace without a blink. And that’s only one of the presents he got her.
I don’t allow myself to go down that road. Roan has been a great distraction from my looming future and the B & B’s.
“Thank you, Daddy, thank you,” Grace sings.
Tears spring to my eyes, the rest of the family freezes waiting on my reaction. When I wipe a stray tear that escaped, I feel the tension in the room as it dissipates. I know there will be plenty of questions later. Jake can’t hold on any longer ripping into his pile of presents Mom stacked up in front of him. Then it’s a chaos of wrapping paper, thank yous, and happiness.
“Grace come here.” I wave her over.
She doesn’t come easily. I have no doubt she didn’t want to leave all of her new toys and clothes. The girl was spoiled rotten and I love it. I gave her everything I could which wasn’t much, but I’m damn proud of it.
I hand her the present for Roan. Days ago, it seemed so damn impressive and now it’s minuscule. Again, I’m proud I can give him something.
“This is for Roan.”
“Daddy, you got one!” she raises the box above her head as she races over to him.
She watches with intent as he peels the corners of the wrapping paper away. He must not do it fast enough as Grace tears into it for him. He holds up the wooden box and I watch as it dawns on him what it is.
“I wondered where the one I bought for myself ended up.”
“Oh no.” Ivy fills him in on the way it all folded out.
Roan turns to me. “Thank you, baby.”
Mom and Dad are always the last to open their presents. We watch as they do and of course Grace is smack dab in the middle of them doing most of the opening. Right before clean up begins, Roan clears his throat and stands up.
“I have a few presents for Poppy.” He runs his hand through his hair resting it on the back of his neck massaging it. He’s nervous. It’s making me feel the same to the point my stomach turns and twists in knots. Is this the point where he tells us all he’s leaving again?
“Hey, stop.” He squeezes my shoulder and then pulls his phone from his pocket.
We all watch as he dials a number and places it on speaker. Three ring
s pass by before someone answers.
“Roan, Jesus, it’s about time you called me back. I hear from you one day about some benefit concert and then it’s nothing but silence. You have a performance in three weeks in California. Your fans are going insane. You better have a damn good excuse.”
I clear my throat. “Clyde, Merry Christmas to you too.”
“Don’t try to play nice with me. Doesn’t matter that it’s fucking Christmas and for the love of God please don’t tell me this is about the brunette you’ve been pictured with in Cringle Cove. I will lose my shit.”
Roan twists his head in confusion clearly not knowing about the picture. Ivy grabs her phone next to me trying to pull up the article, but our Wi-Fi was knocked out last night from the snow storm and still is.
“I have no idea what picture you’re talking about, Clyde, but you’re right it is about a girl and finding my home again which I’m never leaving. I’m breaking the contract. I’m not returning and have already informed everyone on the tour. I’ll pay the price. I’m out and now I’m regretting having the decency to tell you and not let you find out from the slimy tabloids because that’s about your worth.”
Clyde stutters for long moments before he can string together a sentence. “You are committing career suicide. You do this and your name is trash.”
“My concern now not yours.”
“And that benefit concert you’re planning to put on in Cringle Fucking Cove better not have one label song on it or you’ll find yourself knee deep in a lawsuit.”
“Again Merry Christmas, Clyde.” Roan ends the call and peers up to us. “Well, I feel lighter already. Sorry, about the language.”
No one moves or dares to speak. There’s silence all around us. Even Grace sits still in my dad’s lap.
“I just signed my name on one line to set my soul free, but there’s something else I have to do. It may not turn out as well.” He pauses beginning to pace back and forth. “I didn’t come here to throw my money around or brag about where I’ve been. All of you have welcomed me back with open arms.”
