Rm W/a Vu (39 page)

Mom and Dad exchange a glance, having one of their silent conversations, and Greyston’s parents seem to be doing the same. Then they all look at each other before turning back to Greyston and me. Even though I doubt that even a minute has passed, I feel like it’s been quiet for an eternity. I’m just about to say something—what, I don’t really know—but the minute they all smile, I feel my entire body relax and the excited jitters kick in.

“Well, while I can’t speak for Jocelyn and Daniel,” Mom starts to say, “I can definitely say that your father and I would be delighted to come here for Christmas. As long as you let me help out in the kitchen so you’re not running yourself ragged.”

Jocelyn is quick to add on to what Mom said with a bright smile. “We’d be delighted to have Christmas here with everyone. But I’m with Anne. I want to help with the cooking and the baking.”

Squeezing Greyston’s hand on my knee out of excitement, I nod emphatically. “Of course. We wouldn’t have it any other way,” I assure them. “I figured we could all contribute something.”

My smile widens until my cheeks begin to hurt as Mom and Jocelyn begin talking a mile a minute about plans and favorite recipes for the holidays. Meanwhile, our fathers are the first to dish up their lasagna, sharing their thoughts on the latest hockey game. Watching them get along so well makes me even more excited for the holidays, just knowing that we’ll all be under one roof for an entire day. Honestly, I’m so happy with the way this turned out—even though I know I really shouldn’t have expected any less—and I can’t wait for the next two and a half weeks to fly by.

Chapter 25

T
he days leading up to Christmas have been jam-packed. Not only have I been busy with school and work, but I’ve been trying to help Greyston with the preparations for our shared Christmas with our parents. He’s being pretty secretive, though, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m fairly certain it has something to do with whatever he’s getting me for Christmas, which just adds a lot of pressure on me to make sure I find the perfect gift for him.

Did I mention I don’t work well under pressure? No? Well, I don’t.

The Sunday before Christmas, Greyston and I pick out our first Christmas tree as a couple. Yet another milestone I didn’t realize would excite me this much, but it does. 

We wander the lot together, my hand tucked in the crook of his elbow as I lean into his side. It’s surprisingly warm out for December, but the smell of fresh pine needles sets the mood just fine. When Greyston first told me that it had been a year since he decorated his home, I could see how much he was looking forward to our joint celebration.  Apparently he was travelling a lot at this time last year, coming home long enough to celebrate with his folks, and then he was off again.

Both of us are a little surprised when we find the perfect tree so soon into our search. I couldn’t contain my excitement when we came across the seven-foot-tall Douglas fir. I imagined it in our living room, right in front of the large window that looked out onto the street.

Greyston tells the salesperson we’ll take it and arranges for it to be delivered the next day. I’m off on winter break now, so Greyston and I will be able to decorate it together.

Cue another wave of excitement.

On our way home, Greyston suggests we stop to buy an obscene amount of Christmas décor. And I mean
obscene
. Apparently, even when he did decorate for Christmas, he did as much as most bachelors would. Which isn’t much, statistically.

When we arrive home, I get start decorating the inside of the house, rearranging the living room so the tree will fit in the spot I envision it in. I hang the green garland and sprigs of holly on the mantle and place red and green candles atop it. Just outside the window, I see Greyston on the ladder, hanging the outdoor lights.

I move into the foyer, decorating the banister and doorframe with more garland, indoor lights, and holly, and I hang a beautiful full wreath on the outside of the door. The finishing touch, much to my delight, is a sprig of mistletoe in the center of the doorway between the foyer and living room. I hope to take advantage of it. A lot.

Pleased with my work so far, I carry the theme over into the kitchen, hanging more garland around the island, placing more candles, and even adding holly between and around them to make a festive centerpiece.

By sunset, the house is done, save for the missing tree. We settle in on the couch, a fire burning in the fireplace despite the warmer than average weather outside, and sipping on a glass or two of wine. Greyston is sitting with his back to the arm of the couch, and I’ve placed myself between his legs, my back to his chest as I run my free hand up and down his leg. We sit like this for a few hours after dinner, just talking about our day and trying to get gift ideas from one another. I continually get the feeling that Greyston is plotting something, but it only motivates me to find the perfect gift for him, too.

The rest of the week looks like this for us, except now our tree is set up, looking lush and glorious in its designated spot. It completes the room, and makes me deliriously excited for the impending holiday celebration.

The morning sun shines through the balcony window, stretching across the floor and bathing Greyston’s room in light. Greyston is pressed against my back, kissing my shoulder and wrapping an arm around me to pull my body closer to his. All I can do is groan, not wanting to get up just yet.

“Baby.” Greyston’s voice is soft, the low tenor tickling my ear. “Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”

I groan, rolling over to find him smiling down at me, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—whatever that actually means; I’m still too tired to try and figure it out. “Hi.” He kisses the tip of my nose and runs his hand back and forth across my stomach as I stretch. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas to you,” I respond in my scratchy morning voice. The feel of his hard body pressed against me gives me an idea, so I check the time, groaning when I realize just how late it is and knowing we’ll have to wait. “So much for asking for an early present,” I pout, pushing my bottom lip out for effect.

“What did you have in mind?” he asks. I turn my body to him completely, slipping my hand beneath the sheet and running my fingers along his hard-on. He stops me, grabbing me around the wrist before I can show him my intentions. He looks conflicted, but he manages to stay strong. It’s admirable—annoying, but admirable.

“How about a shower together? If we don’t get out of bed soon, then I’m afraid I won’t want to leave all day…and with everybody set to arrive in a couple hours, that wouldn’t be very hospitable of us.”

My previous disappointment over his rejection disappears, and I smirk wickedly. “Can we fool around in there?”

“When have we not?” he quips, yanking the sheet off our naked bodies and inviting a chill to nip at my skin.

With only thirty minutes, we manage to sneak in a quickie before getting cleaned up and dressed for the day. We have so much to do still, but we need to make sure the turkey gets in the oven first—as per our mothers’ extremely precise instructions.

I head over to my room and pull on a pair of jeans and a soft red sweater. I forego socks for now, and then I meet Greyston in the hall so we can get started on the morning preparations and have a bite to eat.

“You look nice,” I tell him, appraising his faded jeans and gray sweater.

“Thanks.” He takes my hand. “As usual, you look absolutely stunning.” He pushes a strand of my damp hair back from my face, his fingers trailing down until it traces the neckline of my shirt. “This color against your skin…this neckline…” His eyes follow the trail his finger sets, stopping at the lowest point of my neckline. I begin to worry that maybe it’s a little too immodest for Christmas with our families. His gaze only lingers for a second before he looks at me again.

“Is it too low? Should I change? I mean, our parents and my gran will be here… I don’t want to offend anyone.”

Smiling, Greyston shakes his head. “It’s perfect. You have nothing to worry about.” He presses his lips to mine and takes my hand. “Come on. We should go start in the kitchen before everyone arrives.”

Greyston starts on breakfast while I begin prepping the turkey for the oven. Our families will be arriving around noon, and Greyston suggested we have a light breakfast since we’d probably be grazing all day before dinner was ready this evening. We’re expecting our mothers to bring quite a bit of food, so we don’t want to be too full.

Our breakfast is ready just as I’m putting the turkey in the oven, so we sit and have a private breakfast. I look at Greyston as he takes a bite, and I smile, spearing a few eggs on my fork. “So, are you going to give me a little hint about my present?” I ask.

“Sorry,” he replies. “It’s a surprise.”

He’s been saying the same damn thing for the past few days. It’s starting to get old. I don’t really expect him to tell me anything, but I’m naturally curious how he even managed to get me anything when I really gave him nothing to work with.

“I don’t even understand how you found something for me. I mean, all I said was I wanted to sit around and relax over winter break. How does that equate to a present?”

All he does is shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to wait until everyone gets here to find out.”

The doorbell rings before I can try to find out anything else, and my eyes widen with excitement. “Looks like I won’t be waiting that long to find out!” I cry out, kissing him quickly. I take my plate to the sink and then run through the house to answer the front door while Greyston starts to clean the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas!” I exclaim when I open the door to find my parents and grandmother. I hug them each before taking their coats and hanging them in the closet. I take Gran’s hand and hook it into my arm as I lead them through the house to the kitchen. Greyston had wanted to meet Gran the other day when I picked her up, but wound up getting stuck at work. He was pretty disappointed about it, actually.

“Your father and I will just go put the gifts under the tree, sweetheart,” Mom tells me before turning and heading the other direction.

“Sure, Mom.” I shift my focus back to my grandmother. “I’ll show Gran the kitchen.”

We walk into the kitchen just as Greyston is finishing up with the dishes. I can tell he’s a little nervous, and I can’t help but feel it’s my fault for telling him that Gran is a pretty traditional woman.

“Hello,” Greyston speaks up, coming forward and holding out a hand to Gran. “I’m Greyston Masters. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Foster. Juliette’s told me so much about you.”

Gran looks to me briefly before accepting Greyston’s outstretched hand. “And I’ve heard quite a bit about you, as well, Mr. Masters.”

“Greyston, please,” he suggests. “Can I offer you something to drink, Mrs. Foster? Something to eat, perhaps?”

“No, thank you, dear. Anne served up a rather large breakfast this morning.” Gran smiles and squeezes Greyston’s hand. “And you can call me Gran.”

I watch as Greyston finally relaxes, and I step forward, popping up onto my toes to kiss him lightly. “See. I told you she’d like you,” I whisper.

The doorbell rings again, and Greyston suggests we migrate to the living room for our gift exchange. I take Gran while he answers the door for his parents.

“Mom, I told you not to worry about gifts,” I hear Greyston tell her as I help ease Gran onto the couch. “You’ve already done so much to help me out with Juliette’s.”

Interesting
, I think to myself with a smirk.

“I know, but that was technically your gift to Juliette. We had to get her something, too. Don’t worry, we were sure to coordinate.”

These clues are no good. I still have no idea what’s going on. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose at this point.

Greyston and his father join us in the living room, and I hear Jocelyn make her way toward the kitchen. After putting a stack of presents beneath the tree, Daniel sits on the couch next to my dad, and I introduce him to Gran. As they become acquainted, I sit on the floor next to the tree, leaning against the large armchair we moved from the corner of the room.

Soon, Jocelyn appears, passing by Greyston who is standing in the doorway still with a grin on his face. She sits next to Daniel on our gigantic couch and introduces herself to Gran. Greyston’s parents ask me about school, and I ask them about work. We get caught up in a conversation that comes on so naturally, I find myself momentarily basking in the moment. Everything about this just feels…right. Like my life was meant to turn out this way. And all because of an ad in the paper. Who knew.

I sit back and listen, laughing when my mom tells everyone a story about her first Christmas with my dad after they got married and how she burned the turkey. This opens up a new discussion about everyone’s first Christmases together, and I look up at Greyston, still standing in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe while he watches us all. Smiling when our eyes meet, I pat the seat of the empty chair, and he finally joins us, kissing the top of my head as he sits.