Without another word, he wrapped his arm around her, and rolled them over so he was lying on his back. Taking his cue, she straddled him, placing herself right at the tip of his dick. Slowly, she lowered herself down on him, taking him in, inch by glorious inch. She could feel herself adjust to his size, enjoying the moment. He felt so good inside her, like nothing else she’d ever felt. Following his pace from earlier, she leisurely moved her hips, finding a simple rhythm, drawing out the moment. Holden moved his hips underneath her, his movements complementing hers. Neither of them was in a hurry, wanting to feel and experience everything this moment had to give them. He reached up, cupping her breasts in his big hands, playing with the taut peaks of her nipples. A soft, barely audible whimper escaped from her. Everything he was doing to her was magic. He made her feel so beautiful, like she was the only woman on the planet.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Holden sat up, never disconnecting their bodies. Placing his forehead against hers, he drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, before letting it go as if he were trying to inhale the moment. Gigi could hear their hearts beating in time with one another’s, falling in sync with their breathing. Clutching onto him harder, she felt tears start to sting her eyes. She had no idea where they were coming from, or what exactly she was feeling, but it was so overwhelming that she couldn’t stop them from falling. She wanted to tell him how she felt—wanted to use those three little words that she thought she’d never say again. But she didn’t want him to think it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.
“Forget Christmas, you’re the best gift I’ve ever been given. Period,” he said, breaking the silence. She could hear the truth in his words and feel it in his touch as he started rocking them back and forth, giving them the friction both their bodies were craving. His thrusts were deliberate and unhurried, full of passion and meaning. She heard everything he was telling her with his body loud and clear.
Gigi could feel another orgasm start to build inside her. If he kept up these movements, hitting her in all the right spots, she knew she wouldn’t last long.
“Holden…”
“Come with me, sweetheart. I want to be holding you when you fall apart.”
His words were enough to push her over the edge. Her whole body shook, the powerful climax taking over her, sending her even higher than she was before. Holden pulled her impossibly closer, still thrusting, in search of his own release. A few more strokes and he found it, letting out a muffled groan.
They stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other, letting the sounds of their heartbeats drown everything out again, before climbing under the covers. Gigi instinctively snuggled into Holden as if they’d been sleeping this way their whole life. Her entire body was exhausted from their lovemaking, but there was still one thing she needed to say.
“Merry Christmas, Holden,” she whispered into the darkness.
“Merry Christmas, Gigi.”
23
Gigi
The warmth of the sun shining in from the window next to the bed felt good on Gigi’s face as she slowly drifted awake. Reaching over for Holden, she was startled a little to not find him there. Had he gone to the bathroom? She looked over to the bedside clock—seven fifty-five.
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” she muttered out loud.
She had planned to be up early, wanting to make sure she had breakfast ready for the family as each one wandered downstairs. At least the sticky buns just needed to be put into the oven. But where was Holden? Why hadn’t he woken her up?
She pranced around in a tizzy, trying to find a pair of sweats or something—anything other than the clothes she’d been wearing last night—to put on to head downstairs. But there was nothing but her discarded outfit. All her clothing was in her room, down the hall. Finally settling on a pair of Holden’s sweatpants and an old T-shirt, she hoped that she had cinched the pants tight enough that they wouldn’t fall down. At least if they did, the shirt she was wearing was long enough that she was more than covered.
The moment she opened the door, the sound of laughter wafted up the stairs. She could hear the rumble of Holden’s voice chiding his godfather about something he’d said, as Heathcliff and Catherine egged them both on. Her heart sank, the realization hitting her that she was the last one awake, and they were all downstairs without the yummy breakfast she had planned on serving. Rushing down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her, she got her foot caught in the too-long pants, nearly causing her to slip on the last stair and faceplant into the hardwood floor.
“Whoa,” Holden said, rushing over to catch her as she tried to steady herself with the railing. “Today is not the day to try new stunts. What’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?”
“I overslept! I don’t know where my phone is, so I didn’t hear my alarm, and so now breakfast is going to be late…” she rambled, feeling the rush of anxiety start to grow within her.
Holden reached into his back pocket and produced her phone, holding it up and waving it in front of her. “You didn’t oversleep. You slept in. There is a difference, I promise. You deserve a quiet, relaxed Christmas morning. I already took care of breakfast.”
Gigi looked over to the rest of the family, who was sitting around the tree, sticky buns in front of them and coffee cups in hand. Her insides warmed as she took in the scene, armed with the knowledge of what Holden had done. For what felt like the millionth time, she wondered what she had done to deserve him and said the biggest silent thank you she could.
“You spoil me,” she said.
“I told you, it’s not spoiling you to give you what you deserve.”
“Hurry up, you two!” Caulfield called out. “Santa came!”
“He does know Santa isn’t real, right?” Gigi asked with a giggle.
“GeorgiaGrace, you take that back right now!” Holden said, his hand flying to his chest in mock indignation. “Life is too short to not believe in Santa. Is that understood, young lady?”
“Yes sir!” she nodded, holding back another laugh at the knowing look he was giving her.
“Gigi, we color code gifts, that way we know what belongs to who,” Catherine explained as she and Holden walked over and sat on the couch. “Heath is the snowflakes, Caulfield is the Santas, Holden has elves, and yours is the ornaments.”
“So, the Frankenstein, mismatched paper ones are yours then?”
“I’ve been wrapping her gifts like that for over forty years. Why waste the paper scrap when it’s still perfectly good?” Heath commented.
Catherine rolled her eyes, but then immediately blew her husband a kiss. Gigi loved the way the two of them didn’t shy away from being affectionate with each other, even after more than four decades together. It must have been where Holden got it from. Glancing over at the pile of gifts, she was taken aback by the size of the items that were wrapped in her designated paper.
“Y’all didn’t need to get me anything!”
“Oh honey, of course we did! That’s what family does,” Catherine said.
Family.
Gigi’s heart skipped a beat at the word. She’d spent so much of her life wanting a family like the ones she’d seen on TV, and now here she was, celebrating Christmas with one. It was almost too much. She sat there, trying to collect her thoughts, taking in the flurry of unwrapping gifts. Catherine nearly came out of her chair in excitement over some bubble bath, in a scent that had been discontinued years ago, while Heath and Caulfield laughed uncontrollably when they discovered they both had bought the other tickets to see some folk singer they really liked in concert. The whole scene was like something out of a made-for-TV movie.
“This one is from the whole family,” Holden said, appearing at her side, carrying a large box covered in ornament paper.
Carefully, she ripped away the paper, unsure of what to expect. Everyone else’s gifts so far were much smaller in size, leaving her a little apprehensive. A quick tug at the paper revealed a picture of
a bright teal stand mixer, just like the one she’d secretly been looking at online.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “No, no, it’s too much!”
“Nonsense!” Heath said. “Holden tells us that you’re baking up a storm! If that’s so, you need one of those things!”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You can start by keeping us well stocked in these sticky buns,” Caulfield commented.
Gigi glanced at Holden out of the side of her eyes, watching as he bit back a knowing smile. The look on his face was priceless—all furtive and flirty. She could tell he wanted to make some kind of innuendo but was still trying to respect the sanctity that was Christmas morning.
“Well, I didn’t know about the color code rule, but the little box with the butcher paper on it is for you,” she told him, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. Grabbing it, he tore into it, removing the paper in a single rip.
“Noise cancelling headphones? Talk about too much, Gigi.”
“It’s so you can concentrate on your writing if I’m in the house baking. That way you don’t have to listen to Taylor and me duet all the time.”
“I love your singing, but I’m sure these will come to good use,” he said, giving her a kiss. Picking up a rectangular box, he handed it to her. “This is from me.”
“But the ornament…”
“Was extra. This is my real gift to you.”
She removed the paper, lifting the lid on the white box emblazoned with “Haley Made,” and pulled the glittery tissue paper back, unveiling a stunning brown leather-bound journal. The front was embossed with “Recipes from the kitchen of Gigi Hawthorne” curved over a hand-painted image of a cupcake sitting in front of a snowcapped mountainscape.
“Holden, it’s beautiful!” she said, fighting back more tears.
“Believe it or not, that was made right here in Colebury. Haley used to work at the Busy Bean, but now has an online store where she makes custom leather goods. I figured you needed a place to keep all those recipes you were developing.”
The box slipped from her lap as she launched herself into Holden’s arms, clinging to him for dear life. The tears she had been fighting back earlier seemed to have won the battle and were now streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t care. She was too overwhelmed by the thought and care he put into the gift. No one had ever given her anything as personal as Holden had, and it was more happiness than she could handle. The three little words she had held back last night were bubbling up to the surface again. She finally let go of him after a long moment and turned to watch everyone else open their remaining gifts but snuck a glance at her new notebook every couple of minutes.
When the last of the gifts had been opened, and they had cleared away all of the ripped paper and bows, Gigi let out a massive sigh. The morning had been absolutely perfect. Now, she needed to get to work on making sure their Christmas dinner was just as amazing.
“I should get started on dinner,” she said. Standing up from the couch and stretching, she realized she was still in Holden’s too-big-for-her clothes and immediately felt self-conscious. His family hadn’t batted an eye at any of the outward displays of affection between them, so maybe the lack of her own clothes wasn’t an issue in their minds.
“Would you like help?” Catherine asked. “I don’t want to step on toes.”
“I’d love it,” Gigi said, meaning it wholeheartedly. Catherine struck her as the kind of woman who knew all sorts of secrets about cooking, something that Gigi was still lacking herself. Gigi also really liked the idea of some alone time with her, to get to know her better, without the men ragging each other about something in the background.
Holden grabbed her around the waist, tugging her into his lap and placing a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek, before leaning into her ear and whispering, “Before you go, I just wanted to let you know how fucking sexy you look in my sweats. I think we need to make that a regular thing.”
“For you…anything.”
Holden
“Heath, you mind if I steal the boy for some one-on-one time in the loft?” Caulfield asked after they’d all showered and gotten dressed.
“Go for it. Keep you two out of my hair while I start this book,” Heathcliff responded, holding up the new autobiography he’d unwrapped that morning.
“We’ll take the long way. Best not to disturb the pretty ladies in the kitchen.”
“Lead the way, old man,” Holden responded, gesturing toward the stairs.
Making their way down the hall and past the bedrooms, Holden couldn’t hold back a smile as he listened to the voices of Gigi and his mother waft up from the kitchen. The two were talking and laughing like old friends, just as he had hoped they would. Truth be told, Gigi had so seamlessly slipped into his family—along with the rest of his life—it was hard to believe that three months ago she hadn’t been a part of his life. That three months ago he was alone in this big house, an empty shell of a human being, just tolerating life. Now, he woke up each morning happier than the last, and he was actually passionately writing again.
“So…your muse is back,” Caulfield commented as he sat down in the leather desk chair. “Or should I say, she’s taken on a new form. Perhaps one that is blonde and southern?”
Holden smirked, unable to deny the accusation. He collapsed into the old couch that was up against one of the walls, sighing as he tried to formulate the perfect response.
“I can’t deny that certainly something has changed.”
“Something has changed? That’s what you’re going with? Three months ago you were walking around like a zombie. You had all the personality of a stale ham sandwich.”
“Wow, that’s an analogy.”
“Do you have a better way to describe yourself?” Caulfield asked, looking at him scoldingly. Holden shook his head and raised his hands in surrender—he knew when to shut up. This was one of those moments. “The Holden I have seen since I got here is the Holden I helped raise. You’re the little boy who loved to laugh and joke around. The teenager who would go toe-to-toe with his dad and me, jab after jab, taking it as well as he dished it out. The man who loves with his whole heart and isn’t afraid to show it. The author who has wild ideas inside his head, whose words bring to life a world that readers are never going to want to leave.”
“So you did like it?” Holden asked, unable to hold back the question. His curiosity had been gnawing at him since Caulfield had emerged from the loft yesterday afternoon. He was dying to know what the man thought of his manuscript.
“It’s rough, but so is every first draft,” he said. “You have the makings of a fantastic ghost story. Where’d the idea come from?”
“Gigi,” Holden sighed, thinking about the moment the idea had come to him. “She showed me her old, tattered copy of At Midnight, and it has all these notes in the margins. You know she wrote her senior paper in college about that book. About the use of the color green in it. She had all these passages underlined in it, every time you mention the color. She was so, so sure that it was Anaura. That it was all somehow tied to the necklace, and it got me thinking.” The idea of writing something similar to Caulfield’s work had never interested him until now. He knew it would have to be different enough to stand on its own, but for the first time in a long time he was confident that he could do it.
“Smart girl.”
“She’s brilliant. She doesn't think so, because that asshole she was married to spent years tearing her down, but she really is brilliant. She’d never baked anything in her life prior to arriving in Vermont, and now she’s making her own recipes. She’s shy and sweet, but man, the fire inside her is something else.”
“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” Caulfield quoted. “Does she know that you love her?”
Love? Was the old man crazy? He liked Gigi…he more than liked her, just as they had expressed the other day. But love? No, it was too soon.
“And just what makes you think—”
&
nbsp; “I have ears, boy, and a bedroom right next to yours,” Caulfield chided, cutting him off.
Oh shit, so much for being quiet…
“And more than that, I have eyes. I see the way you look at her. The way you watch her when she doesn’t know you’re looking. It’s the same way I looked at your Aunt Viv. The way your dad does your mom.”
Holden leaned forward on the couch, letting Caulfield’s words settle around him. He loved Gigi. He wanted a future with her. One filled with cupcakes, sticky buns, and whatever else she created. A future full of reading by the fire, of nights snuggled up watching movies, of sitting out in the gazebo watching the snow fall. He wanted her to help him come up with story ideas and travel the country with him as he put those stories into people’s hands. He wanted to explore the idea of a family with her.
Sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at his godfather, who was patiently waiting for him to arrive at the same realization he had. “She’s my future, Uncle Field. No doubt about it. I love her.”
“Then, at some point, you’ll be needing this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, blue, hinged box and handing it to Holden. Holden took it, flipping it open, a stunned expression taking over his face as his godmother’s ring stared back at him. “I’m not saying now. You’ll know the right time. You did before, you will again. But I want you to have that for when the moment makes itself known.”
“Uncle Field…”
“Hey, boys! Dinner!” Holden’s mother’s voice called up the stairs.
Without a word, Caulfield stood up, patted Holden on the shoulder, and turned to head down for dinner. Holden just continued to sit there, staring at the pear-shaped sapphire that his godmother had worn for more than thirty years. He couldn’t believe that Caulfield had kept it all these years, as if he were just waiting for the universe to tell him what to do with it.
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