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Moneyshot (Money Shot) (Selected Sinners MC Romance Book 6) by Scott Hildreth (22)

SIENNA

December 25th, 2014

Christmas was so much more than a holiday for me. I was born on Christmas, my mother died on Christmas, and according to my belief, Jesus was born on the same day. After my father’s death, I made it a point to remember my father’s and my memories of the day by enjoying the music he graced me with when he gave me the special CD, and I did so on a daily basis.

I typically didn’t tell people when my birthday was, because if they knew about my mother’s death, it made the holiday and my birthday both seem sad. It wasn’t a sad day as far as I was concerned, and in fact, I considered it to be the best day ever.

In the last five years, the holiday had been a difficult one for me. Celebrating it with Vince and Anita would not only bring back so many fond memories, but would without a doubt develop new ones that we could spend a lifetime sharing together as a family.

“Open it,” I said as I pushed the gift in his direction.

“Don’t be jumping around, I want a clear picture,” Anita said.

“I’m not six years old, Mother. I’m not going to jump around like a fucking idiot,” Vince said.

Uh oh.

I widened my eyes and glanced in Anita’s direction. She pointed over her shoulder toward the kitchen, cleared her throat, and after not gathering Vince’s attention, did it again.

“The jar, Stephen,” she said.

He glanced in her direction, sighed, and stood. “It’s Christmas,” he said.

She pointed toward the kitchen and grinned. “All the more reason to be respectful.”

He lowered his head and began walking toward the kitchen slowly.

“Let me see it,” she said.

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed a $1 bill. “Here,” he said as he waved it in the air.

She raised the camera and took a picture of him as he held the bill high in the air. After a minute, he returned to the room and sat down beside his gift.

Incapable of containing myself, I began to clap. “Open it, open it, open it.”

We had stayed all night at his mother’s home, and I was still wearing my pink pajamas. After hot chocolate, coffee, and his mother’s Christmas breakfast, the morning was just like I remembered it being with my father. There’s nothing on earth like waking up Christmas morning with the one you love.

He slowly peeled the wrapping from the package while his mother sat back and took pictures with her digital camera. After carefully pulling all of the paper away from the box, he turned toward me and scowled.

“Really?” he said sarcastically.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry.”

“See this?” he said as he held the box in the air. It was covered in clear packing tape.

“Take a picture of this shit,” he said.

Uh oh.

He cussed again.

I glanced at Anita. She lowered the camera, cleared her throat, and glared. Without speaking, Vince stood, pulled a $1 bill from his wallet, and waved it in the air. After being photographed as he walked to the kitchen, he returned, sat down, and quietly began peeling the tape away from the box.

As he opened it I held my breath.

“Oh my god,” he said as he peered into the box.

I hope you like it.

“Well, let’s see it,” his mother said.

He picked the book out of the box, held it in the air, and turned it toward his mother. A hardbound first edition, first printing of Pride and Prejudice, I hoped he would take great pride in having it. I had bid on two of the books on eBay, hoping to buy the first one, but I lost out on it at the last minute. Although the one I purchased was in much better condition, the first one was five years older, and I was interested in it for that reason alone.

He stood, held the book at his side, and grinned. After a dozen or so pictures, his mother turned toward me.

“It was his favorite since high school,” she said. “He might try and act tough, but he’s a romantic at heart.”

I grinned and mouthed the words “I know.”

Vince walked over to me, hugged me, and kissed me as he released me from his arms. “I love you, Sienna.”

“I love you,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Open this,” he said after reaching under the tree and handing me a gift.

It was the first Christmas gift I had been given since my father died. I had several gifts, but they were all purchased by me, wrapped by me, and opened by me. And, speaking from experience, I can say they’re never as much fun when you know what’s in them.

“I don’t open them like you do,” I said.

“However you like,” Anita said as she raised the camera.

“Well, if you’re going to take pictures, you better hurry,” I said as I tore into the paper.

Within a few seconds, the wrapping paper was in shreds and an untaped box remained. I quickly opened the box and looked inside. As much as I didn’t want to, I began to softly cry.

“You didn’t,” I said as I wiped the tears from my face.

“I did,” he said.

The book I wanted to buy for him, a first edition, first print of Pride and Prejudice from 1850, lay in the box. I not only had been outbid by my lover, but we both had the same ideas for what we believed the other would cherish for a lifetime. Our each having purchased the other the exact same gift spoke volumes of not only our love for each other, but for our love for books.

With glassy tear-filled eyes, I glanced around the room. The camera sat in Anita’s lap as she wiped tears from her cheeks. I lifted the book in the air.

“He…” I paused and bit my lower lip.

I realized if I continued, I would be in a full-fledged sob. It was too much. Vince was too much. Spending Christmas morning with a family was too much. I turned toward Anita and held the book close to my chest. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she raised the camera and took a picture. I turned toward Vince and shook my head.

“I love you,” I said.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we think alike,” he said.

“It’s all the proof I need. You two are made for each other,” Anita said.

For the next hour we opened gifts, some large, some small, but none as meaningful as the book Vince bought for me. The day, as far as I was concerned, was best day of my lifetime. I wished my father could have been there, but realized his departure from the earth wasn’t something he had planned, but something that had simply happened. I didn’t know if my belief in matters was correct, but in my belief he was witnessing everything that was happening while enjoying a glass of his favorite wine.

“There’s one more for each of you,” I said as reached behind the tree and removed a two small gifts.

“There sure is,” he said as he reached behind the couch and produced a large box.

He kicked the box with his boot, sending it sliding across the floor. It came to a stop at my feet. I stood, stepped around the big box, and handed him the small one. After giving Anita hers, I walked to the couch and sat down in front of the big box.

“I’ll go last,” I said.

Anita opened hers, turned toward me, and smiled. “Bombshell?”

“Yep. The day we met. You said you liked it. It’s what I was wearing that day, on Thanksgiving,” I said.

“Thank you, Honey,” she said. “I’ll wear it with fond memories.”

“Open it,” I said as I motioned toward Vince.

He tilted his head toward the large box in front of me, “Open yours.”

“I’ll go last,” I said.

He removed the wrapping paper, took his knife from his pocket, and made a huge production as he cut the tape from the box. After removing the outer cardboard covering, he stared down at the hard plastic case.

After studying the case for a moment, he opened it.

“I knew you didn’t want something fancy, but I really wanted it to be dependable. The jeweler said it was a good one,” I said.

Sitting and gazing at the box, he simply nodded his head and continued to stare into his lap.

He removed the black Tag Heuer Formula watch from the box, studied it for some time, and unbuckled the watch from his arm without speaking. The process seemed more like a ritual than simply replacing a watch. He hadn’t so much as made eye contact with me since opening the box.

Anita sat down beside me on the couch and began to take pictures.

“His father gave him that watch when he was a kid,” she whispered. “It’s a cheap watch, and it hasn’t worked right for years.”

I turned to face her and chewed my lower lip. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Let him be,” she interrupted as she nodded her head toward Vince.

Slowly and methodically, he removed his watch, strapped the new one on his arm, and placed his old watch in the presentation box. After studying the watch for a moment, he turned toward where we were sitting.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“9:10, Dear. And the date is the 25th,” Anita said.

He nodded his head, glanced down at the watch, and made the adjustments. I was humbled that he replaced his father’s watch with the one I had purchased for him. From what the jeweler said it would keep time better than any other watch I could buy.

After studying the watch for a long moment, he shifted his eyes toward where we were sitting. Without speaking, he raised his clenched fist in the air and extended his thumb, giving me the “thumbs up” sign.

I returned the gesture.

He reached into his lap, pulled out his knife and shook it in the air to get my attention. As I noticed what he held, he slid it across the carpet toward me. As it came to a stop at my feet, he motioned toward the big box. It was almost as big as the ottoman sitting in front of the couch.

Curious as to what may be inside the box, I flipped the knife open, set it at my side, and tore into the wrapping paper with my hands. After exposing the large box, I cut the tape from the seam and opened the flaps. A smaller box sat inside. I removed it, slid the large box to the side, and cut the tape on the smaller box.

I opened the box and gazed inside.

Another smaller box was inside the box between my feet. I turned toward Vince and cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

He grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Scoot back, Honey,” Anita said. “I need a picture.”

I turned toward her, smiled, and pointed to the boxes. A few pictures later, and I was back to the box opening routine. Six boxes later, and I held a small box in my hands. I glared at Vince and shook the box.

“Was all of that necessary?” I asked.

“Probably not, but it was fun,” he said.

I opened the cardboard box. Inside, a slightly smaller box with a name I recognized from the jeweler I had visited.

Rolex.

I opened the box and removed the gold watch. Much smaller than the one I had purchased Vince, it was gold and had small diamonds that circled around the face. Back to wiping tears from my face and fully realizing just how much my father’s saying of the unexpected result of the natural development of life was applicable to us, I turned toward Anita and held up the watch.

With tear-filled eyes and a heart full of what I was sure was pride, she took several photographs.

“You’re always one minute from being late. Now you’ll never have to worry about the clock in your Continental crapping out. Turn it over,” Vince said. “Look at the back.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, turned over the watch, and gazed down at the back of the case. Delicately engraved, but easy to read, the inscription was perfect.

The Money Shot

November 9th 2014

The fact he remembered the date came as no surprise, Vince’s memory was almost photographic. He remembered almost everything, and seemed to remember anything with numbers in it.

Sitting on the couch in the living room of the big house that I hoped to one day fill with grandchildren for Anita to enjoy, I realized that particular day was far more than special.

It was the

Best.

Christmas.

Ever.

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