A Package Deal

by Mia Kerick

  In less than a split second Savannah was pressed against my other side and was kissing my cheek. “This is a family. We are a family.” She said it with conviction. Her eyes were somehow still dry, unlike Tristan’s and mine, but her expression was impassioned.

  We stayed close together, embracing one another, until Savannah remembered that she and Tristan hadn’t yet exchanged gifts. So, then we got back to the business of Christmas.

  WE WENT to bed at midnight after what was likely the best Christmas Eve any of us had ever experienced. As had become our habit, Tristan climbed in first, always in something of a rush because he was still a bit shy about me seeing him in just his boxers. When he was settled, Savannah climbed in, usually in an oversized T-shirt (more and more often now the T-shirt she wore was one of mine that she’d swiped from the clean laundry, which I really liked), and she and Tristan hugged and kissed each other good night. I was always the last to get in bed, as I had become the one officially designated to turn off the lights.

  Tonight, when I slid into bed beside him, Tristan turned to face me, and in the darkness he tried to study my face, his eyes wide. “Tonight was the best night of my entire life. Thank you so much, Robby.” He spoke the words like a prayer.

  “Don’t thank me. We gave each other this special night.” God knew I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to take him in my arms and show him how I felt. And I wanted to cover his mouth with mine until he was gasping for breath, and then explore the lean lines of his pounding chest with my hands. But I didn’t know what he wanted. I didn’t know if he was afraid of intimacy, or if he was uncomfortable because of Savannah’s presence. I just didn’t know what came next for us.

  Then I heard a sleepy, feminine voice coming from the other side of the mattress. “I just want you guys to know that I hung mistletoe on the ceiling, directly above where your heads are at this very moment, as a matter of fact.”

  Tristan and I froze and waited for her to say more.

  “I’d be extremely disappointed if you broke the ‘mistletoe rule’—in other words, I expect you two to be locking lips within the next couple of seconds.” After another brief silence, she said, “I love you guys. Good night.”

  Savannah had virtually been paving the way from me to Tristan ever since our first date. So who was I to question her, let alone the cherished tradition of kissing beneath the mistletoe? I didn’t fully understand why she was doing it, but I knew she’d also encouraged and embraced Tristan on every step of his journey toward me. So, I took Tristan’s delicate face between my palms and I pulled his mouth in toward mine.

  I couldn’t help myself; I kissed him with a need that stopped just short of forcefulness. Never before had a person awoken my heart and my body in such a powerful way. There was something I found irresistible in the paradox of his person, in his soft and gentle, even yielding, masculinity. Inexplicably, I wanted to make him mine as much as I wanted him to make me his. And this wasn’t mere affection or simple lust I was feeling; it had gone well beyond that. I was talking about real passion, a thirst for his love that needed to be satisfied. Simply because my heart responded to him with such fervor, I believed that my body, likewise, ached with need.

  Before long, I had climbed on top of his slim frame, my lips never leaving his even for a second. An urge to know him in every way, and I mean in ways I’d never before conceived of knowing a man, was the only thought my mind could entertain. At this moment, I longed to be as close as I could be to Tristan Chartrand, to be inside him, to know I’d made him mine in the most intimate way I could perceive.

  I found his tiny nipples with my fingertips and teased, trying desperately to entice this man to need me with the same desperation with which I’d come to need him. In fact, I knew beyond a doubt that I had to have him; how could I possibly wait? And then I felt the weight of his hand between my thighs. He moved his flat palm tentatively up and down my length, trying to let me know that he was okay. That this was okay with him. But already my concern for Tristan’s mental health had shifted to the forefront of my mind, effectively pushing back my burning lust. Tristan’s emotional safety was, and would always be, my first concern.

  “I love you, Tristan, and I can wait for this.”

  Between heavy breaths that led me to suspect he was in no way unaffected by our contact, he murmured, “I… we won’t need to wait too much longer. I’m almost ready….”

  Our lips met again and we moved together with fervor, our passion only enhanced by the depth of our mutual respect. “There’s no rush, Tristan, whenever you’re ready, baby.” I dared to reach my own hand down and pressed it to the front of his boxers. And there I found the proof; he wanted me in the same way I wanted him.

  Since our lovemaking was not going to progress any further tonight, I gentled down my kisses and started to use my hands to soothe him rather than to inflame him. Tristan responded to my calming touches like a cat would. He raised each and every part of his body upward to meet my hands. Tristan was a very sensual man, and I supposed that as of right now, I was too. Because now I was with him.

  “I never thought I’d feel this way.” He pushed his crotch against my thigh in repetitive, subtle thrusts, probably hoping to relieve some of the pressure of his physical need. I didn’t think he even knew how seductive his movements had been.

  I stilled his recurring thrusts by placing my hand firmly on his ass. “There’s no rush to make love, baby. We have all the time in the world. And tonight was perfect just as it was. Let’s go to sleep now and wake up to our first Christmas morning together.”

  “First of many, right?”

  As I nodded, the light stubble on my jaw brushed against Tristan’s smooth forehead. It shocked me how much I wanted a hundred Christmas mornings with this man.

  Chapter 30

  Tristan

  THERE was a definite love connection between Robby’s niece, Madison, and me. First of all, I have to admit, I’d never been close to a child before. Once in a while a kid came into the restaurant, but most of the time the parents spent the whole meal trying to keep him quiet and occupied. Tonight’s gathering was definitely not designed to keep little Madison’s behavior under wraps. All of the adults present seemed to share the “Christmas is for children” philosophy. They asked her questions about whether she’d been a good girl this year and what Santa Claus had brought her and which kind of cookie she was going to eat first when she finished her dinner. And Maddy wasn’t shy about answering questions, as long as you in no way suggested that she was a baby.

  And I couldn’t stop looking at her. She had clear blue eyes, a junior version of Robby’s, a devilish little smile, and adorable blonde curls that bounced around on the puffy sleeves of her shiny, cherry-red Christmas dress. When she took me by the hand and pulled me over to the Christmas tree to show off all of her brand new toys, I was tongue-tied at first (what does a twenty-three-year-old man say to a three-year-old girl?), but that didn’t seem to bother Maddy in the slightest. She talked enough to make up for my silence, and pretty soon her incredible toys had me almost as enraptured as I was with her.

  “Play-Doh has definitely come into its own since we were kids, huh?” Robby crouched down beside the place where Maddy and I were making Play-Doh burgers, fries, and strawberry frappes.

  “I guess so. I, uh, I don’t think I had any Play-Doh when I was a kid.” Madison looked up at me, completely scandalized by my confession. “But I think I made some silly putty in my first-grade art class.” That comment seemed to have gotten me out of the doghouse.

  But Robby tilted his head and looked at me strangely. Then he pushed up his sleeves and dove into the Play-Doh right along beside us, making a pretty good replica of a double cheeseburger with pickles and ketchup on a bun. It was fun.

  “Now eat it, Mr. Tristan.” She lifted Robby’s cheeseburger and shoved it to my lips. I froze and must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights, not wanting to eat it but at the same time not wanting to disappoint a sweet lit
tle girl. In the nick of time, Robby mouthed the word “pretend” to me, and I did my best imitation of a man sloppily eating a burger.

  It appeared that Madison was pleased with my performance. “Funny!” She clapped her chubby hands. “Do it again!” The giggle that followed was truly heartwarming. I would’ve eaten a dozen Play-Doh cheeseburgers to hear it again.

  “Hey, you two, come join the big kids for a while.” Robby’s sister, Lindsey, called us over.

  “But Mr. Tristan is playing with me right now, and you and Daddy aren’t big kids, Mommy. You are growed-ups.” Madison sent her mother a scornful glance. Lindsey was on her feet in no time at all and was soon speaking sternly into Madison’s ear.

  “Oh, o-o-o-kay. You can have Mr. Tristan and Uncle Robby back for a while.” Madison stood up and then tried to help me to my feet, pulling at my arms with her plump little girl hands. “Mommy says I gots to say thank you for playing with me, and now it’s time you gots to go sit in a chair and talk growed-up talk.”

  “Well, I want to thank you for playing with me too.” I looked down at the little girl as she tried her very hardest not to pout. “And I brought you a little something for Christmas. I’ll meet you in front of the tree after dinner and you can open it.” Thankfully, the prospect of receiving a gift restored the grin to Maddy’s face.

  This afternoon’s Christmas get-together had turned out to be just Robby’s sister’s family, Savannah, Robby, and me. Sadly, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton both had terrible cases of the flu and couldn’t make it. Tonight, though, I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I’d been at Thanksgiving; I didn’t feel as much like Savi and I were being analyzed under a microscope. Not to say that Lindsey wasn’t very aware of everything I said and did, because she was. And she actually seemed far more interested in me than she was in Savannah, which made me wonder if Robby had said anything to her about our growing feelings for each other.

  “So, Tristan, how about a beer?” Lindsey approached me boldly, an open beer already in her hand. “Here, this Bud’s for you.” She laughed.

  I took it from her with a nod. “I’d like to thank you for having us over tonight, Lindsey.”

  She didn’t reply right away, and I could tell she was thinking. “Aren’t you at all close to your own family, Tristan? You’ve spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with us.” I could tell by the way she spoke that Lindsey wasn’t trying to be cruel; she just wanted answers.

  “Well, I… no, Lindsey, I’m not close to my family.” After that admission I scoured my brain for a way to regain her decent opinion of me. “But I consider Savannah to be my family. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

  I received a smile. “I know what you mean. That’s how I feel about Robby.”

  “Your daughter is very sweet too. And she knows how to tell it like it is.” I hoped that was all right to say.

  I guess it was, because I got another smile from Lindsey. “Well, I want Madison to be a polite young lady, but it is most important that she feels like what she says matters to us and that she grows up knowing and liking who she is.”

  I was tongue-tied for the second time tonight. Nobody had cared if I’d even grown up at all, let alone grown up with a positive self-image.

  “You okay, Tristan?” Lindsey touched my arm. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Suddenly, I felt like an imposter. Here I was, enjoying a Christmas celebration in a beautiful home, eating delicious food with quality people. And even if they didn’t know who I was, I knew. I was a no-good runaway prostitute, whose own mother hadn’t cared enough to keep me out of her brother’s bed.

  Worthless trash doesn’t belong in a classy place like this.

  I glanced around desperately for my lifeline. Where the fuck was Savannah? I needed her to save me from this moment. I shifted my weight back and forth from one foot to the other in discomfort, trying to calm my nerves.

  “Hey, buddy, my sister is cool.” I felt Robby’s hand come down steadily on my shoulder and stay there. “Lindsey knows that not everybody gets an equal start in life. She was a high school teacher until Maddy came along, and she’s seen a lot.”

  I managed to clear my throat and say, “Oh, yeah?” But I knew my eyes had swelled up and reddened. Only then did I notice that Savannah was watching this exchange from across the room. Couldn’t she see my dismay? Why the fuck hadn’t she come over to bail me out? I could feel the thirteen-year-old boy in me panicking.

  “Now, Tristan, never worry about things like where you came from or how you were raised. You are a very kind person, I can tell, and I think my Maddy would agree.” I glanced over at Maddy, who just so happened to be sitting cross-legged on the rug, her face in her hands, staring at me like she was in love.

  Robby looked at his sister and smiled widely, his hand still on my shoulder. “Believe me Linds, human beings do not come any kinder than this man right here.” He looked at me for a long moment. “I’m lucky I found him. Or that Savannah found me and introduced us, I guess I should say.”

  With his warm palm on my shoulder and his words of support, I felt my muscles loosen up a bit, and I began to relax. “Sorry I clammed up there for a minute, Lindsey. It is strange for me to see how, um, how much everybody cares for Madison. Kids in my family weren’t treated, well, with such respect.”

  “Hey, it’s no problem, not at all. Come on, Tristan, Robby tells me you like to cook and I want you to try my artichoke dip. I’m looking for a brutally honest opinion, okay?” As I followed her into the kitchen, I caught Savannah’s eye from her high stool at the little bar in the corner of the family room. She smiled and winked, and I knew she had just taught me an important lesson.

  I’d just learned that Robby could be my lifeline too.

  Chapter 31

  Robby

  NOT to overuse a cliché, but on a scale of one to ten (ten being the best) our first Christmas as partners scored an eleven. And after a Christmas that good, how could New Year’s Eve possibly not be a letdown?

  One night several days after Christmas, the three of us were hanging out on the couch with all of the lights off just watching the snowflakes fall in the darkness outside the living room picture window, when I brought up the topic. “So, to start off the New Year right, should we go out to dinner and then go dancing, or should we rent a bunch of movies and get Chinese food delivered?”

  Tristan lifted his head just slightly from my lap to respond. “I say we stay in. We can open up the sleeper sofa, put lots of blankets on it, and get movies and games and Chinese food. And beer. Plenty of beer and fruity wine for Savi. And we have to get champagne for midnight.”

  I had to smile because this plan sounded like so much more fun than my past ten New Year’s Eves had been, nights I’d spent at parties and clubs and bars, pretending I’d wanted to be there. But before I had a chance to get too excited, Savannah, down on the other end of the couch, lifted Tristan’s feet from off of her lap and stood up. Seeing the serious expression she wore, Tris shot up to stand beside her, unable to hide his concern. “We can do something else if that doesn’t sound like fun to you, Savi.”

  Savannah took his hand, pressed it to her cheek, and looked up at him. “No, no, that’s not it.”

  Tristan’s face twisted; he was panicked. “What do you mean? It?”

  Savannah sat back down and patted the place between us for Tristan to sit. “Tris, listen, I-I want to do something different this year on New Year’s Eve. Something that is very important to me.”

  Tristan appeared nothing short of shell-shocked, clearly needing to know what Savannah had on her mind, and if he was included in her plan.

  “What do you think we should do, Savannah?” I decided I should pipe up before Tristan had a coronary. “We’re game for anything.”

  At my words Savannah looked distinctly uncomfortable. “The thing that I want to do is… well, it’s kind of for, um, for girls only.”

  I glanced at Tristan; he was white as the fallen snow. No joke.


  “A couple of the Boston area Big Sisters want to take our Little Sisters on an overnight tubing trip to Gunstock Mountain in New Hampshire. You know, when you ride a rope tow up the mountain and slide down on a huge inner tube, for a New Year’s celebration. There’s been loads of snow, and it’ll be a once-in-a-lifetime trip for most of these girls and I really would like to do this.” She exhaled sharply, seemingly relieved that she’d managed to spit out those words.

  Tristan remained speechless, staring at the wall, his jaw hanging down.

  “That sounds like a really nice thing to do. The girls will love it.” It really was a terrific thing to do for young girls who didn’t have all of the opportunities in life that kids like me had enjoyed.

  “I think so, and I love to make my little sister, Lani, feel like she’s important to me.” Savannah addressed her words to me but was staring straight at a still-stunned Tristan. “She doesn’t have anyone else to make her feel that way.”

  Tristan blinked. Savannah’s request was apparently sinking into his brain.

  “Don’t worry, Savannah. Tristan and I will keep each other company.” I leaned over toward him and hugged him tightly around the shoulders. “Right, Tris?”

  Tristan turned to me slowly until those gorgeous brown eyes met mine. “R-right, yeah… Savannah, you go on ahead and hang out with the girls. I’ll be fine h-here with Robby.” This time his words were directed to Savannah, but his gaze did not waver from mine.

  It seemed as if Savannah collapsed a bit onto the arm of the couch after Tristan let her off the hook, most likely in relief. “Thanks, you guys. I’ll really miss you, but there are some things I need to do, you know, there are things I need to do to help the kids who need it.” She nodded at Tristan. “Kids like we used to be.”