A few weeks later...

“Uncle WRENCH! LOOK what SCARLET got me!”

Ally was standing by the ridiculously over-sized fake tree that took up a corner of the event hall. It had taken Wrench nearly an hour to assemble the thing with Travis, and even longer to decorate it with the white and gold decorations. The Christmas Eve formal had ended without incidents worse than a drunkenly dropped glass and the smallest of fires in a corner where a candle had gotten tipped over.

Ally, drunk with the privilege of a party staying up late with grownups, and giddy with the rush of new presents, was dressed in a red velvet dress trimmed with embroidered holly leaves and glittery poinsettias. She was holding a plush golden teddy bear dressed in a tutu.

“Ally, honey, you don’t need to shout,” her mother reminded her.

“I just feel SO LOUD with happiness,” Ally protested, whispering as loudly as she’d spoken earlier. The ground around her was littered with shredded Christmas paper and open boxes. She was wearing one of the bows on her curly head.

Wrench felt fingers slip into his as he watched her caper around, dancing with her new bear to give Scarlet a thank-you hug.

“You’re going to miss them,” Lydia said near his ear as Scarlet knelt to embrace his niece, her red hair as brilliant as Ally’s dress and accented with a crown of glossy holly.

“It was great of Scarlet to put them up for a few weeks,” Wrench said sincerely. “Renna needed a nice vacation.”

“Scarlet never fails to surprise me,” Lydia agreed. “It was really sweet of her.”

“Dance with me?” Wrench invited.

Lydia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I thought I’d already gotten my Christmas present,” she said in delight, putting a hand to the earrings Wrench had ordered for her. They were small silver infinity symbols with black enamel wings.

She put the hand into Wrench’s, and he pulled her into the closed position and stepped out.

Wrench concentrated on counting, sticking to the simple, basic back and forth until it started to feel somewhat comfortable. Lydia gazed up at him, contentment and joy in her beautiful face. Dancing close, she was the most gorgeous, sexy thing he’d ever had the pleasure of holding in his arms.

Then he remembered his plan and stepped forward when he should have gone back, colliding knees with Lydia.

“Dammit,” he growled, and instead of trying to pick the step back up, he stopped.

“You were doing great,” Lydia laughed kindly, trying to gently pull him back into the dance.

He resisted her, but kept her hands in his. “Lydia,” he said seriously.

She stopped tugging on him and stilled her feet. “What is it?”

“I’m probably not going to do this one right either,” he warned her. “But I gotta try.”

Se furrowed her brow at him. “Do what?”

Wrench swallowed and slowly lowered to one knee. “Lydia, will you marry me?” He’d tried writing a speech, had scoured the internet for the best poetry, and even asked Breck for advice. (Breck’s advice had largely been to not get married, never to find a mate, and had involved the word doom prominently.) But in the end, he’d decided to stick with the one line, not sure he’d be able to memorize the fancy stuff or deliver it right.

“I’d really like it,” he added impulsively, remembering how she’d said she didn’t want to be an obligation.

She stared at him, eyes wide and full of happy, unshed tears, and nodded without speaking.

“Shit,” Wrench said, letting go of her hands and digging into his pocket. “The ring. I got a ring this time.”

The velvety black box was tiny in his big hands, but the simple gold ring on Lydia’s finger, when she didn’t protest, was an exact fit.

She fell forward, wrapping arms around his neck and he lifted her as he stood. “That was perfect,” she said, voice full of emotion. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you.”

Wrench didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he released it, holding Lydia tight to him as he set her back down on her feet.

Applause made him aware that they were the focus of most of the room. Renna gave him a thumbs up from where she sat with Ally falling asleep on her shoulder. Breck dramatically shook his head but was grinning like a sap. Tex whispered something to Laura that made her turn and kiss him soundly. Even Scarlet was smiling.

Travis caught his eye and pointed at something above their heads.

Wrench glanced up. They were standing under mistletoe.

It was as good an excuse as any.

He pulled Lydia into his arms and kissed her soundly.

Her mouth opened under his, eager and hungry. Her body pressed against him, and her bare back felt like silk under his rough thumbs.

Her hands in his short hair felt like fire, and her fingernails scratched lightly down his jaw as she continued to kiss him, desperate and possessive.

When someone shouted, “Get a room!” Wrench could not have agreed more.

He released Lydia’s mouth and took her by the hand. “Best advice I’ve gotten yet,” he said wryly.

She smiled at him, hair tousled and lipstick smudged. “Let’s take it,” she agreed.

They left in a chorus of Christmas wishes and congratulations, but only made it as far as the gazebo in the garden, where darkness gave them privacy they desired.

Lydia unbuttoned Wrench’s shirt only slightly more carefully than she had the first time, he shrugged out of the jacket and pulled the shirt over his head when the last few buttons wouldn’t cooperate with her trembling fingers. Wrench unzipped her dress and let his hands travel down her sides and up around from behind to cup the breasts overflowing her lacy bra as he kissed the back of her neck.

She moaned in growing need as he pulled close against him, pressing his own expression of need against her. She turned in his arms and finished shimmying out of her dress while she unbuttoned his pants and worked at releasing him.

There was a brief moment when they were both removing the last parts of their clothing where they stood and simply looked at each other. Lydia was pale in the faint light, a healthy goddess with blessings at every curve and promises at each tantalizing hidden place.

Then Wrench could not keep from touching her, and she met him halfway, arms rising to stroke his shoulders as he lifted her against the center post and claimed her with his entry. She was wet and ready and as eager as her mouth had been, lifting her legs to wrap around him and take him deeper with each thrust, until they were both in a frenzy of pleasure and desire and couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

And it was all beautiful and good.