— TWENTY-FOUR —
CHRISTMAS with the Minellis was interesting. They all went to Mass on Christmas Eve, for one thing.
Faith had to give Eric a quick primer on faith and being respectful of other people’s beliefs before they went, but he loved it and she found herself promising they’d come back.
And unlike every other Minelli get together, it wasn’t loud. It was like there was a twenty-four moratorium on sibling teasing and mother-button-pushing.
Some of that might have been about the brand new baby in the midst. Olivia had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, Sophia Grace, at the end of November. Faith had gotten in a sweet snuggle before Mass, and so had Zander and Eric. They were all in love with her dusting of dark brown hair and her tiny cupid’s bow mouth.
Faith tried hard not to listen to her ovaries when Zander stood up and started rocking Sophie when she fussed.
It was hard.
She distracted herself with wine and reminded herself that pregnant women didn’t get that. But they get babies, her ovaries protested.
After Mass, they drove home to Tobermory. Another new tradition was that Zander wanted each of them to open one present before they all tucked into bed. She’d fretted over what to get him for weeks—Christmas morning was no problem, because she could give him a bunch of presents that all connected into an awesome theme. But one gift? That was special and meaningful?
She wracked her brain for ideas. He had changed her life so much, breathed new life into her heart and soul. She wanted to give him something that promised she’d give back that positive energy ten-fold.
When she stumbled on the perfect idea, it came with its own set of complicating factors.
How to give it to him, for example.
Miriam started a kettle for hot chocolate as Eric bounced up and down the hallway, trying like mad to usher everyone into the living room. But Zander’s special present wasn’t under the tree—it was outside.
“Babe, can you get some wood from the back deck for the stove?” It was a shallow ruse, because the few times they used the wood stove, it quickly got so warm in the kitchen that Faith opened the windows.
Zander didn’t notice. He grabbed his boots and out he went.
The silence stretched on for a few seconds, then he reappeared in the doorway, holding his brand new kayak.
“Merry Christmas,” she said softly.
“I’m bringing it inside,” he threatened, his eyes twinkling.
“Of course.” She laughed as Eric tried to climb into it before it was even settled on the carpet in front of the tree.
Zander grabbed three presents from under the tree and handed them out before kissing Faith gently on the lips.
“Thank you,” he said, cupping her cheek. Their gazes locked. She’d tried to say so much with the kayak. Be adventurous. Look, two seats. First of many steps. The look in his eyes said he understood. “Now it’s your turn.”
She wiped away a surprise tear and gestured at her mother and Eric. “You guys go first.”
Zander had gotten them both books—a cookbook for Miriam, signed by the celebrity chef author, and The Dangerous Book for Boys for Eric, which made Faith whimper a worried Mom-sound, but Zander made Eric repeat the inscription after him.
For Eric, who has a wonderful, adventurous spirit—and who will never forget to remember to ask permission and stay safe. Love, Zander
“Remember, bud. There’s a lot of fun to be had in life. And we only get to do it if Mommy’s content and happy, right?”
“Right.”
Zander pulled Eric into his lap and opened the book. “Here, read about slingshots while your mom opens her present.”
Faith ran her fingers over the gift. It was something hard and flat inside the wrapping paper.
Inside she found a black leather case, and when she lifted the lid, she gasped at the sight of a silver charm bracelet. One charm hung from it—a silver quill that dangled delicately as she picked it up.
“Oh, Zander, it’s gorgeous.”
He kissed her cheek, then her mouth again. “I’m testing the jewellery waters,” he whispered as she slipped it on her wrist.
“Good test,” she whispered back.
Miriam made them all hot chocolate then, and they put out a tray for Santa and the reindeer in front of the cold wood stove. “Wouldn’t want to burn Santa’s toes anyway,” Faith pointed out.
Once their mugs were empty, they all went to bed. Miriam to her room, Eric to his, and finally Faith and Zander to their room.
It was still the same as it had been when it was just her room. Other than an increased number of black t-shirts in the laundry basket and a second dresser squeezed along the far wall, he hadn’t changed anything. But in six short weeks—or four long months, if she counted from the week they’d met—he’d imprinted himself everywhere.
She turned the lock as Zander started to strip out of his clothes. They had this routine now—she’d lock the door when they came to bed, and he’d make sure it was unlocked before they fell asleep. He always left the door cracked open for Eric to crawl in with them, which he rarely did, but it made Faith feel better knowing that option was there.
Silently she followed Zander’s lead, getting all the way naked. She didn’t bother with lingerie. After she hung up her bracelet in a place of honour on her jewellery tree, she crawled onto the bed and into Zander’s arms.
He set a slow, exploratory pace, touching her all over but avoiding all the spots that would get her really revved up. She reached for his erection and he firmly removed her hand from the vicinity. “Let me just…” He ducked his head and drew the tip of one breast into his mouth.
She groaned at the tug, deep inside her.
“Yes.” He grinned up at her. “Let me just make you do that a few times before you touch me tonight.”
Cupping her breasts, he plumped them together and went back and forth until she was restless.
He slid his hands down her sides, shaping her waist and lifting her up to meet his wonderful, questing mouth that seemed intent on loving every inch of her tonight. He even rubbed his finger over her c-section scar as he settled between her legs. She squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable with his inspection, but his touch was gentle. Loving.
She still pulled away. A reflex that he calmly ignored as he chased her, gripping her hips firmly and pressing his lips to her lower belly. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“There isn’t an inch of your body that I don’t love, woman.”
“I know.”
“Then what is it?”
She sighed. They never talked about Greg, and right before sex probably wasn’t a good time to bring him up. “A conversation for another time, probably.”
“There is nothing you can say that will make me want you less.” He nuzzled the soft skin below her navel. “I might tell you that you’re silly, though.”
“On this point, I most definitely am.” She ran her fingers through his dark hair and tried to refocus. “Thank you for my bracelet, again. It’s beautiful.”
“Like you.”
“Stop.” She laughed as he nipped at her hip, then returned to her scar. So they weren’t avoiding it, after all.
“This is how you had Eric?”
She squirmed and nodded.
“Were you awake when he was born?”
Another nod.
“Tell me about it.”
“Another time.”
He nipped her skin again. “Now.”
She sighed. Zander always got his way. And it was a wonderful memory. “It was pretty amazing, that moment when the doctor lifted him up over the surgical draping and my baby gave his first yell. He was all red and super mad.”
“No kidding. He’d just been ripped from his beautiful mom.”
“Enough talk about my kid,” she whispered, but she didn’t mean it. She loved that Eric was always a part of their conversations, that Zander loved her child as much as he loved her. “What’s brought on all the questions, anyway?”
He traced his thumb lightly over the knotted tissue one more time before crawling up her body and turning them together on the bed. His arms pinned hers together, holding her right in front of his face. His very serious face. “Would you want more?”
“Babies?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“You want babies?”
“Hell yeah. At least one. I’ve got the big kid. But I missed out on the sleeping baby on my chest while I watch football stage. I hear that’s pretty good.”
“It probably is.”
He frowned at her, and she realized she’d said too much. Shit. There was a reason they never talked about her marriage. “Didn’t he…”
She sighed. “He loved us in his own way. But he wasn’t the type of guy to hold a baby for very long. He got up in the middle of the night and changed diapers, no problem. He was a good father. He researched first baby foods and mashed sweet potato.”
Zander rolled onto his back and tucked her into his side. “Rafe was telling me tonight he’s scared he’s going to break little Sophie.”
His endless capacity to see the best in people astounded her. “Yeah, maybe there was some of that.”
“Is he the reason you’re skittish about the scar?”
In for a penny… “We never reconnected after Eric was born. He’d seen me cut open, and it didn’t heal perfectly, and…I was changed. Irrevocably.” Zander took a deep breath and she pressed her hand against his chest. Turning so she could see his face, she gave him a soft smile. “You don’t need to tell me…It’s in the past. I need to let it go.”
“You do.”
“I know it’s not an issue between us. You’re so, so good to me in that regard.”
“Then why are we talking about it?” He kissed her, like a stubborn bull with just one thing on his mind—if bulls were also annoyingly good at psychoanalysis and unfazed by discussions of first husbands.
“Because you see inside me.”
“And why does that continue to surprise you, beautiful?”
“Okay, point taken.”
“Do you trust me, Faith?” His mouth feathered against her jaw.
“With everything I am.”
His breath warned her neck and that spot behind her ear. His lips slicked over her skin, his tongue too, and suddenly talking seemed unnecessary.
“Zander…” she breathed.
“Sometimes I talk too much, too,” he murmured as he tasted her collarbone. “Clearly I need to show you.”
For the second time that night, his hands blazed the path that his mouth followed. First her breasts, then her belly, and finally he hooked one of her knees over his shoulder and pressed the other one wide.
She’d never get enough of the quietly erotic view of Zander’s dark head between her legs.
Of the wet, determined swipe of his tongue along the seam of her sex, and the groan he always made when he discovered she was slick with want.
The feeling of complete worship as he licked her up and down, delving deeper once she started rocking.
No, she’d never get enough of Zander loving her. Tingly, precious heat skittered over her skin as he circled her clit with his tongue, coaxing it into a hard, swollen nub.
“Feel good?” His breath puffed against her skin—warm, moist, and shockingly intimate, even for the act, and she shuddered.
“So good,” she whispered.
Flick.
“Ahhh,” she cried out.
“Quiet.” Flick. Flick, flick, flick.
She bucked against his face, wanting more contact than that torturous flutter of his tongue, but the begging roll of her hips only got her a quiet laugh as he twisted his face and pressed his mouth against the softness at the top of her thigh.
“Please?”
“Stay still.”
“That’s impossible!”
“Nothing’s impossible.” He said it so confidently, she believed him.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled and closed her eyes. Flick. He paused. Maybe he was looking at her. She exhaled again. Flick. Lick. Okay, staying still got a reward. She could do it after all.
He squeezed the back of her thighs and tilted her bottom up, opening her even more as his questing tongue explored her folds. Deep inside, her arousal started to coil tight, twisting a bit more with each nerve-pulsing swipe. He hummed as he covered more of her with his mouth, an open-mouthed kiss to her entire sex that made her quiver and shake. It was all so good, so intense, and as he wound her up, she stopped being able to differentiate what he was doing. It was just feelings now.
Amazing, spiralling feelings.
Love and lust.
Primal possession.
Greed.
She laughed helplessly as he sucked on her clit and he pulled away with a growl.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m so greedy,” she whispered. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
He slid a finger inside her, then another. She rocked hard against his palm and he added a third. “Good.”
“I want you inside me.”
“Then come for me, beautiful. Come for me and I’ll be inside you before you come down from heaven.” He lowered his head and swirled his tongue around her clit, once, twice, three times, matching the stroke of his fingers.
She slid one hand into his hair and pressed the other against the mattress, bracing herself as a tsunami of sensation unfurled from within. Her legs pulled up tight, then flopped wide, and even as the dark spots were clearing from the corners of her vision, Zander was all she could see—right above her.
Right inside her.
He wrapped his arms around her torso and lifted her boneless body off the bed, binding her to him as he took her hard and fast, spilling himself deep inside her.
Merry Christmas, her lust-drunk brain murmured as she held him close.
One of his hands tangled in her hair and he pressed his lips to her neck. Merry Christmas indeed.