CHAPTER TWELVE
Blaze
“Did you get everything you need?” I question as Trevor comes in with Whitney behind him, carrying wrapped gifts.
“I did,” he greets me with a smile and a kiss, before he turns back to his sister. “Thanks for taking me again, Whit. We’ll be over sometime this week to see Stella, if that’s cool?”
“Just text to make sure she’s not asleep. Do you need anything else?”
She looks like she’s about to drop, and I pull her into my arms. If there’s one thing I know after seeing many new moms, it’s sometimes they need a hug. “Anything else he needs, I have. Take care of yourself and be sure to get as much rest as you can.”
“I’m doing my best,” she closes her eyes as she sighs. “It’s hard, though. Hopefully, soon she’ll realize what sleeping for longer than three hours at a time is.” Her grin is rueful, and I know she wouldn’t give any of it up for the world.
“She will,” I assure her. “Not that I’m a mother or anything, but you do learn a few things when you work in the healthcare industry. Do your best to get her on a schedule.”
“We’re working on it,” she reaches in and hugs Trevor as he comes back into the room. “Will I see you all at Mom’s on Christmas morning?”
My eyes meet Trevor’s. I want to be there, but he hasn’t asked me to come. When my parents do their holiday party, it’s not like we sit around a tree and open gifts, it’s never been like that. At least not that I can remember.
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” he answers. “Eight in the morning for breakfast, right?”
“Yup, I plan on getting there a little early to help,” a yawn slips from her mouth before she can cover it up.
I find myself speaking up. “Then we’ll get there a little early, too. You just had a baby, no reason I can’t help.”
We say our goodbyes, Trevor and I watching as she backs out onto the street and speeds away with a wave. It’s easy for me to believe this is the type of life I can have with him, but I know I can’t make plans, not until we deal with our issues. Those issues seem to have been put to the side while he recovers and I’m okay with it, but I’m not stupid either. Not talking about it doesn’t automatically fix anything.
“I’m sorry if she put you on the spot,” he holds the door open for me with his crutch as I step inside, in turn holding it open for him.
“On the spot for what?” My eyebrows come together in question. I’m truly confused as to why he’s apologizing.
“Christmas morning at my parents’. I mean I know I’m going with you to your parents’ big party, but there’s a huge difference in attending a holiday party and a family Christmas. If you don’t feel comfortable, please tell me.”
There’s a struggle with what I want to tell him and what I should tell him. Being transparent would probably the smart thing to do, but he and I have never really been smart and we’ve never really been transparent. Maybe right now is a good time to start. Nothing will change until one of us takes the first step.
“The holiday party with my family? It’s like Christmas morning with yours. Mine have never been big on the quaint family life, though. They’d much rather get together and show off how much money they have.”
He leans against the living room wall, letting the drywall take his weight instead of his arms and crutches. “You mean to tell me y’all don’t open gifts in front of the tree? You do nothing privately?”
“Olivia Prescott Coleman – Prescott with two t’s,” I flash him a smart grin before continuing on, “never does anything privately, Trevor. Everything she does is manipulated and manufactured to further whatever agenda it is she’s working on at the moment. If it doesn’t further it, then at least she gets attention from it. All in all, it’s a win for her,” I stand in front of him, letting my fingers play with the thin material of his t-shirt. “Damon Coleman? Well, Daddy just likes his expensive scotch, cigars, and young secretaries who can keep their lips closed while keeping their legs open at the same time. It’s not exactly A Christmas Story at the Coleman mansion.”
“Goddamn,” he makes a noise in his throat. “And you want to take me to this party?”
I shrug. “I wanna take you wherever it is you wanna go with me,” I fight the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“Look at you, being cute and flirting with me.”
Tangling my fingers tighter in his t-shirt, I tug against it, pulling him so he lowers his head toward mine. Our mouths are mere centimeters apart when he closes the gap, but I grin against the butterflies in my stomach, letting his lips chase mine. I hear one of his crutches fall to the floor as his hand snakes around my neck, holding me in place. When his lips capture mine – and make no mistake, it is a capture – my damn knees go weak.
My fingers hold tightly to his shirt as he thoroughly kisses me. His tongue invades, swiping against mine as our noses rub against one another. I hear the other crutch fall to the floor as he brings me into his body, every part of us is touching. The whiskers of his beard rub against my chin as he breaks our kiss. His fingers tug the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to tilt back against my shoulders and expose all the space below my chin to him.
“Trev, we shouldn’t be doing this,” I gasp as he nips at the pulse point of my throat. “Your leg,” I try again, digging my nails into the covered flesh of his amazing abs.
“Is fucking fine,” he growls against me.
But I worry. He’s a month out from a traumatic situation, and even though he’s talking to the doctor about putting him in a boot when he goes tomorrow, I hope he’s not rushing his recovery.
“I’m fine, Blaze,” he assures me again as he laps at the tendons before smearing his kiss along the side and moving his lips up to my ear. “I’ve always been a fast healer.”
“Batman,” I gasp. “Right?”
His chuckle is dark and deep in my ear. “So you do listen to me sometimes.”
“I listen to you all the time,” I dig my fingers in his hair, yanking out the band he’s used to pull it back today. “Following the directions you give me? That’s a different story.”
The palm of his free hand snakes under my shirt, moving up along my stomach until it encounters the edge of my bra. Just when his fingers squeeze the satin and flesh rising above it, his doorbell rings.
“Trevor honey, it’s me.”
We jump apart, the intrusion scaring us to death.
“Son of a bitch,” Trevor groans as he leans his head back against the wall with a thud. “I’ll be right there, Mom!”
I giggle as he adjusts the front of his pants, bending down to get his crutches. His flat palm smacks the curve of my ass as I reach to get his right one, making me gasp.
“Remember how that felt, because when I can, I’m making you pay for that giggle.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” I wink, licking my lips as I strut over to open the door for his mom.
Two can definitely play at this game.