Cakewalk

by Claire Hastings

  He sat up, his eyes meeting hers. There was a warmth in them that was new, but still as comforting as ever. She felt her insides melt under his gaze, and she had to resist the urge to snuggle into him, kissing him until they were both blue in the face. The connection between them was so strong, making her feel like they had been celebrating the holiday like this their whole lives, rather than only a few hours. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, his eyes still burrowing into hers, letting her know that he was feeling it too.

  “Well,” she started up again, trying to figure out which story to go with that could rival the one that Holden had just shared. “I was one of the first girls in my little friend group to get boobs. Which I know sounds cool, but really, it was just awkward, because I had a bra and no one else did. The summer I was twelve, we had a sleepover at the country club. We did it every year. Set up tents by the pool, swam at night—it was a lot of fun. Since we basically spent all night in our swimsuits, my clothes were left in my duffel in my tent. One of the boys, on a dare or something, snuck in at one point and stole my bra. I had no idea until the next morning, when we woke up and went to get dressed and I couldn’t find it. Then we heard a whole bunch of laughter and went outside—to find my training bra flying high right in between the American flag and the Georgia state flag. So of course, then everyone knew it was mine, because when the head lifeguard finally got it down from there, he asked out loud who it belonged to and I had to go claim it.”

  “Oh sweetheart,” Holden said, hauling her into his side and wrapping an arm around her as he laughed. As much as she hated telling that story, it didn’t seem so bad confessing it to Holden and his family. “I will never complain about the manscaping story ever again. At least the only people who witnessed it were these guys. And I promise to never put it in a book.” He looked pointedly over to his right, where Caulfield was busy savoring his third cupcake.

  “You have to write one first, kid,” the older man lobbed back.

  “I have about 50K sitting on the laptop upstairs if you want to take a look at it, old man,” Holden responded, not even skipping a beat.

  Pride swelled inside Gigi as she watched Holden watch his family’s reactions to his news. The look on everyone's faces told Gigi that they had no idea that he’d started writing again, and for a moment, she was unsure if she should say anything. She had no idea what his book was about, but she knew by the change in his attitude and demeanor that finally having that outlet again meant a lot to him, and by extension her. She couldn’t wait until she could read it.

  “You’re not kidding,” Heath finally said.

  “Not kidding.”

  “He’s been up in that loft plugging away for about two weeks now,” Gigi added in. “He won’t tell me what it’s about, but I’m sure it’s amazing.”

  Without a word, Caulfield popped up from his seat, shoving the rest of the cupcake in his mouth, and walked over to Gigi, holding out his hand as if to shake hers. Sliding her hand into his, she looked around at everyone else, trying to figure out what was going on. Each member of the family shook their head and shrugged, just as confused as she was.

  “I don’t know what magic it is you possess, Miss Georgia, but between the best damn cupcakes I’ve ever eaten and the fact that he’s writing again, it must be something special. Welcome to the family.”

  22

  Holden

  Much to Holden’s displeasure, the greatest hits album did not make an exit after the first round of stories. His mother made sure that Gigi saw every last photo that she had in there, and gladly told her the story behind anything she asked about. For as embarrassed as he was though, no part of him would change how the afternoon played out. Watching as they initiated Gigi into the family made him happier than he’d thought he could be ever again. He’d known as soon as she mentioned her love of reading that his dad and godfather would be taken with her, and his mother was just one of those people who seemed to like everyone, but actually seeing it all unfold in front of him was something else.

  “Storytime!” Caulfield announced, emerging from the loft, where he had spent the last couple of hours. He’d made a beeline up there shortly after they had finished looking at the photos, insisting he be left alone to “properly immerse” himself in the manuscript Holden had been fiddling with for the last couple of weeks. A pit formed in his stomach, waiting for his godfather—a man he admired on many levels, but especially as a talented storyteller—to say something, anything, about what he’d just read. Instead, Caulfield turned to him and said, “I didn’t see A Christmas Carol up there, so I assume you brought it down?”

  “I did,” Holden responded, still waiting for more.

  “Perfect! Then grab your girl and cuddle up!”

  As everyone settled themselves into their chosen spot, Holden did as he was told, taking Gigi’s hand and pulling her onto the couch with him. He burrowed himself into the corner, making sure he was comfortable, before she settled in between his legs, resting her head against his chest and wrapping his arms around her. The sun had mostly set, but there was still a little sliver of light coming through the big bow window, that mixed with the light on the tree and the glow of the fire gave the room a cozy feel perfect for the occasion.

  “’Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that,’” Caulfield began, his voice lowered and serious sounding, like he was narrating a documentary. The words were familiar, as was the older man’s tone, but something about this moment held a new importance to him.

  “I can’t remember the last time I actually read the real Dickens version of this story,” Gigi whispered to him. “I don’t think we even read it during the Dickens elective I took in college.”

  “When it comes to British Victorian era authors, in this house we prefer the Brontë sisters, for obvious reasons,” he replied, taking a moment to inhale her sweet scent. She smelled of cupcakes and frosting, and it flooded his senses, sending a thrill up his spine. Add in the comforting feel of her soft body against his, and he was pretty sure this moment couldn’t get any better. “But good ol’ Chuck makes an appearance every Christmas Eve. Give it a couple of years, and you’ll be able to recite this story, just like the rest of us.”

  Holden hadn’t realized what he said until he felt Gigi tense in his arms. The movement was slight, and disappeared almost instantly, but he knew her and her body well enough now to have noticed the subtle movement. Instead of backtracking on his words though, he tightened his arms around her, placing a soft kiss on her hair and letting the words settle. He had no idea if the rest of the family heard his little slip or not, but he didn’t care. She was his, and that was all that mattered.

  Caulfield and Heathcliff traded on and off reading the tale, even forcing Holden to take on the chapter surrounding the ghost of Christmas present. He did his best to rival the other two with his own narration, however when he got to the part of Tiny Tim, his impression seemed to be lacking. Gigi giggled incessantly at the voice he chose, making him say lines over and over again, only spurring her laughter more.

  When the story finally came to an end, and Tiny Tim had uttered his infamous “God bless us, everyone,” the whole family was exhausted. The day had been filled with so much love and laughter—not to mention all the food—and Holden felt like he could just burst. More than anything though, he hoped that Gigi felt the same way.

  “I think your mom is asleep,” Gigi said, twisting in his arms to face him.

  He looked over in time to see his dad lift his mother out of her chair, giving them a wink before taking her upstairs. It amazed him still that after forty-some years of marriage, their love was still so strong. Had he been asked six months ago, without a doubt he would have said he was jealous that they had each other to depend on, to grow old with. But now, his outlook had changed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he thought he might just have that too.

  “You two kids behave now,” Caulfield said, following his friends to
ward the stairs. “Don’t stay up all night or Santa won’t come.”

  Gigi’s giggle lit him up inside as they watched Caulfield disappear up the stairs. Once he was out of view, she snuggled deeper into his chest, like she was trying to burrow herself into him. Closing his eyes, Holden sighed, holding her close to him. He still couldn’t believe how happy he felt.

  "Holden?” Gigi said, after a long moment of silence. Her voice was so soft and quiet, but it had almost sounded like his name left her lips like a question.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

  “It’s just getting started, sweetheart. Santa still needs to come visit.”

  “I already got what I wanted. Besides, what I asked him for doesn’t really fit under the tree,” she said coyly. “I know because I watched said gift cut down said tree.”

  Holden opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the right words. He didn’t want to sound trite or rehearsed—he simply wanted her to know that she was easily the best gift he’d ever received and that he didn’t take it for granted. They’d both had a hard road getting to this point, but maybe their finding each other made it all worth it.

  “Well, Santa came a little early and wanted me to give you this,” he said, finally finding his words. He reached into the couch, just as he had the other night, and pulled out an almost identical box.

  Gigi sat up and spun around, still in his lap, wrapping her legs around his torso. She took the box from him, her eyes wide with confusion. His pulse started to race as he watched her undo the ribbon. He’d been nervous when he’d given her the cupcake after decorating the tree, but this one made him almost feel panicky. If all went as it should, this was going to take things to a new level, one he hoped she wanted just as much as he did.

  Opening the lid, she carefully peeled back red tissue paper to display two small, molded figures sitting cross-legged, staring into a roaring fireplace, each one wearing a red shirt with pajama bottoms that were white with blue snowflakes. The blonde female figure had “Gigi” written on her back, while the dark-haired male figure next to her read “Holden.” Along the mantel of the fireplace, in simple black letters, were the words “Our First Christmas.”

  A sob escaped from Gigi, and Holden’s heart lurched. Had he done something wrong? Was this the wrong gift? It’s too soon, you’ve only known each other a couple of months, been together less than that. Nice job, dumbass…

  Covering her sobs with her hand, she looked up at him, tears spilling from her eyes. Holden expected to see sadness, or even fear, but the only thing he saw was the same emotion he was feeling.

  Love.

  “I hope it’s not too presumptuous of me,” he started. “But I thought the occasion needed to be properly marked and celebrated. I know that Christmas hasn’t always been a happy time for you, but that changes now, Gigi.”

  “Can I put it on the tree?” she asked, swiping at her tears.

  “Of course, that’s why I gave it to you. And I promise, it will still be there tomorrow.”

  She leapt off the couch in a single movement, nearly knocking him over in the process, and pranced over to the tree, searching for the exact perfect place for it. When she finally found a spot, she pushed up to her tiptoes, trying to reach.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart,” Holden laughed, getting off the couch. “Let me help.”

  Before she could argue, he grabbed her luscious hips and picked her up, giving her access to where she had been trying to reach. When she got their ornament secured to the branch, he slowly lowered her back to the ground, spinning her in his arms. She looked so beautiful in the glow of the twinkle lights, he couldn’t help but cup her face and capture her mouth in his. They stood there, wrapped in each other, kissing—soft, slow, and without agenda—for what felt like hours. Holden could feel all the blood rush to his groin every time Gigi would whimper. For as much as he wanted to take her right here, he wanted to simply love on her even more.

  Finally breaking apart, their lips swollen from their efforts and Gigi’s cheeks slightly pink from his beard, Holden felt like he was the king of the world. Right here, right now, he was sure that things did not get better than this.

  “I know I said that I already got what I wanted. But I do have one more Christmas wish,” Gigi said, an impish smile tugging on her pretty pink lips.

  “Anything, sweetheart.”

  “Take me upstairs and unwrap me?”

  Gigi

  Gigi wasn’t really concerned that her “wish” would go ungranted. She knew full well that Holden would not only take her up on said wish, but that he would make sure that she was left singing afterwards. What she had not expected was to be picked up and tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, much like when he rescued her from the fire she’d started.

  “Holden, put me down!” she whisper shouted, lightly hitting his back with her fists. The giggles that escaped betrayed her mock seriousness and earned her a swat on the butt from him.

  “Shhhh, don’t want to wake my parents,” he said as he slipped into his room and closed the door.

  “I've never done it with parents in the house,” she said, hoping the admission didn’t make her sound stupid. “I guess that lands me on the nice list…”

  “I can promise you, sweetheart, you are most certainly on my naughty list.”

  Gigi licked her lips in anticipation as Holden stalked closer to her, a look in his eyes like he wanted to eat her alive. She felt a chill run down her spine, causing her to shiver with excitement. She wanted him more than she could say—tonight in this bedroom, and for years to come. How could she have ever thought that what she had before was love? That hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of what she and Holden had. What was between them was the most powerful thing she’d ever experienced, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life exploring these feelings with him.

  In a flash, they were in each other’s arms, mouths melded together, hands everywhere as they worked on ridding themselves of their clothes. As the last article of clothing hit the floor, Holden grabbed ahold of her ass, picking her up and taking her over to the bed. He laid her down gently, looming over her like a villain, but she wasn’t afraid. Not of him, not of how she felt, not of anything. She reached up and ran her hand along his jaw, feeling the softness of his beard in between her fingers. The softness of it still amazed her, as did just how much she enjoyed the feel of it against her skin. Lowering himself, he kissed her again, this time slow and sweet, like he was memorizing her mouth. His kisses only served to fuel her desire even more, feeling her whole body come alive.

  Holden started to kiss his way down her body, lavishing all the sensitive spots he’d come to know that turned her on. Gigi felt her nipples contract as he reached the swell of her breasts, his open-mouth kisses leaving a trail of heat as he went. The need pulsing through her caused her to arch her back, trying to find his mouth with her breast, but he swerved just in time to continue to tease his way across her chest. He looked up at her, a sly smile on his face. Even in the dark she could see his piercing blue eyes drinking her in, and she could feel herself growing wetter by the second just from the stare.

  “No rushing tonight, sweetheart,” he told her, his voice rough with desire. “Tonight, I’m going to make love to you like you’ve never experienced before.”

  Another shiver ran through her body. This was already more intense than anything else she’d experienced, and he’d barely touched her. How could it get any more erotic?

  A heartbeat later, he answered her unspoken question, dipping his hand into her sex and slowly stroking her. She let out a whimper, trying to keep quiet and not disturb anyone else in the house, but the more and more he played with her, the harder it became. Up and down her folds he went, each time missing the bundle of nerves calling his name by such a small margin that she knew it was calculated on his part. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her senses were on overl
oad. He knew every inch of her and was playing her like a violin. Just when she thought she was going to burst, he slipped two fingers inside her while simultaneously finding her clit with his thumb. Grabbing onto the bedspread and arching her back, she opened her mouth to react, but her moan was captured by Holden’s mouth crashing against hers. Everything about what he was doing was driving her crazy. She could feel her orgasm starting to build as he kissed her furiously, his hand never letting up on its pursuit. Shifting slightly, Holden adjusted the angle of his wrist, finding a new spot inside her. That was all she needed.

  A moment later, fireworks seemed to burst from underneath her skin as her climax took over. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, causing her to almost cry out again. She had no idea what it was—the holiday, the thrill of knowing that his parents were down the hall, or all the new, next-level feelings they were starting to admit to each other—but this wasn’t like all the other amazing orgasms Holden had given her. This one was different. There was more power to it, like it had been building inside her for years, just waiting for the right time to surface.

  When she finally came down from her newfound high, she was greeted with another set of long, drawn-out kisses from Holden. They had done this in what had seemed like every way possible, yet somehow, he still had tricks up his sleeve.

  “You are exquisite, Gigi,” he said, placing his forehead against hers. “I hope you know that. I hope you know how special you are. Not only to me, but in general. Because you are so fucking special.”

  “So are you, Holden,” she said, fighting back tears. She had no idea what she had done to deserve him, but she was so incredibly thankful nonetheless. He’d taken so many years of her feeling worthless, like she was nothing but a screwup, and made them all disappear in weeks. “Make love to me, please.”