Chapter Thirteen
Morgan
Sam took me to the movies; securing a historic theater for a private showing of It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story and my favorite, Elf. We snuggled in our seats, located in the middle of the empty, vast theater, eating popcorn, making out, and getting handsy under a blanket.
When we arrive home, he hands me a gift. I open the rectangular box and gasp when I see the framed photograph inside.
“It’s the family,” he says, pointing to an incredible image of the six of us up in the garden just as the leaves began to fall. The colors are brilliant—not a hint of the Darkness. Just us. “I hope you like it.”
“Sam, I love it.” I stare at the photo. Yowza, these men are handsome. No wonder there are days I wake thinking I’m in a dream. I give Sam a hug, squeezing him tight, hoping he doesn’t notice my tears.
When he leaves, I place the frame on the fireplace mantel and then sit across the room and stare at it. I can’t think of a better week in my life, or a better family to share it with. It’s strange that kissing and loving man after man, night after night, is the biggest blessing a woman could have. But I’ve settled into this amazing life with these amazing men. I know our bliss will be short-lived. The Darkness and other bad things lurk out there, but for now, I’m happy to live in a bubble while I can. Like a snow globe bought in the tourist shops, it’s peaceful until upturned and shaken. We’re in the calm of a building storm and I’m happy to take advantage.
In the morning I pause for a moment in bed, waiting for a knock on the door. A note on my pillow. Breakfast or instructions or something to tell me about my day. Dylan is the only Guardian I haven’t shared a tradition with, and knowing him, he’s probably the most reluctant.
When there’s no word by midmorning, I get up, change, and head to the kitchen. Sue is working alone at the counter, kneading dough.
“Morgan, ready for a little breakfast?”
“Do you have anything light? Yogurt? Fruit? I feel like I’ve gained twenty pounds in the last week.”
She heads to the refrigerator and opens the wide silver door. She turns and has a variety of containers in her hand. The door shuts with a hit of her hip. “I’m sure you’ve found a way to work off any extra calories,” she says with a wink.
I blush, never used to the fact everyone in this house knows everything about me. I’ve had more sex in the last four days than I’ve had in my life, each time as deliciously sweet as the last. This also makes me a bit wary of seeing Dylan today. Our physical relationship can get a little rough. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but his passion is fueled by years of pent-up emotion. I don’t expect movies or candlelit dinners. Not even the sweet, soapy sex I’d experienced with Damien. Like always, with Dylan I feel left in the dark.
I decide to get my mind off of it and ask, “Sue, do you have a favorite holiday tradition?”
She thinks for a minute while ladling yogurt to a glass bowl. She adds a heaping spoonful of berries on top. “Probably the Yule log.”
“What’s that?” I ask, taking the spoon she offers me.
“It’s a long-standing tradition at The Nead, brought over from the old country. We use the same log every year, lighting it on Christmas day. It stays lit for twelve days. In the past, it was thought to ward off misfortune.”
I smile. “We could use a little of that around here.”
“Yes.” She wipes her hands. “I think we could.”
I’m quiet while I eat my breakfast. “I need to get the boys gifts but I’m at a loss. None seem to want much of anything and the gifts they’ve given me…” I sigh, “I can’t compete.”
She stands on the other side of the table. “If there’s one thing those boys do not believe in, it’s competition, especially with you. Don’t get me wrong, they love a healthy fight, battles and soldiering, but in this house they want peace and calm. You provide that for them. I don’t think you need to worry about gifts for them.”
“Isn’t that a little selfish?”
“Sweetheart,” Sue says, taking my hands, “You’re the queen of their world. Don’t shatter that for them. Let them treat you as such.”
It’s still weird to hear myself referred to as a queen, but maybe that’s part of the problem. I don’t think of myself that way. How should a queen celebrate the talents of her Guardians? The question still lingers after I’ve left the kitchen.
*
At noon, Dylan stops me in the hallway and asks if I’m available this evening.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying not to be put out. He grunts and nods and then disappears back up the stairs. Trying not to wallow in the annoyance of spending Christmas Eve with a broody ass like Dylan, I dress and spend the rest of the day shopping along with the rest of the city. The streets are a zoo and more than once I’m shoved off the sidewalk, but I’d finally had the spark of an idea and I use the inspiration to hunt and track down gifts for the Guardians, Sue, and Davis. The early afternoon air turns gusty and cold, making navigating the crowded streets even more complicated. Clerks and storekeepers try to keep up the holiday spirit but it’s obvious they’re exhausted and ready to go home and celebrate. I clench the collar of my coat tighter as I walk back in the direction of The Nead.
It’s the red satin that catches my eye and forces me to pause in front of the store window. I scan the sleek lines of the bodice and delicate lace on the back. I feel something in the pit of my stomach when I see the back and know it’s perfect. I’ve upped my lingerie game since I started sleeping with the Guardians but this…I peer at the slim waist on the mannequin for another minute. I decide on the spot to wear the sexy set under my outfit tonight. If Dylan gets his shit together, maybe he’ll see it.
If he doesn’t, then maybe I’ll let one of the other boys unwrap me instead.