by R. Holmes
"That's what happens when you find the love of your life ya know," I say, mimicking Gramps.
"Why does that sound like something Gramps would say?" she asks and lets out a squeaky laugh when I surge my hips up against her wet heat.
I groan. "Let's not talk about Gramps while you're sitting naked on top of me please."
Jesus H.
"I'd much rather focus on you," she whispers with a husky edge to her voice that I've come to love more than I can fucking say.
"You sure you can handle another round, Princess?" I tease.
That's what makes us, us. Our competitive edge. Our constant drive to one up the other, and test each other's limits.
"Oh? Are you sure you're up to it, big guy?"
She shifts around, then her tiny hands find my cock beneath the thin sheet and she pumps me, once, twice, three times until my hips piston off the bed.
"Mmm. Who can get the other to the finish line first?" Freya whispers challengingly.
Is my girl taking this to the next level? Who can come first?
"I'll always win this, baby. Your body was made for me. I can play in the dark with my eyes closed."
She sighs happily, and bends down, licking a path down the column of my throat, then flashes me a cheeky, smug grin.
“Well you know what they say… All is fair in love and Jingle Wars.”
“Okay, okay.” My breaths come in gasps as I collapse next to Finn in bed. Maybe more like face plant. “You win.”
“What was that?” His tone is full of satisfaction. “I couldn’t hear you, Princess.”
With what little energy I have left, I blindly aim a weak punch. The soft oof that gusts out of him makes me think I caught him in the side. Strong arms come around me and once he has me resting half on top of him again, he strokes my back.
“So you concede defeat at last?”
I make an approximation of a response. It’s mostly a groan. Finn chuckles. He has zapped all of my energy.
“Fiend,” I mumble into his shoulder.
“That’s right, baby.” He reaches down to smack my ass lightly.
Little does he know, I’ll challenge him to a rematch because I love competing with him.
As soon as I come down from the insane orgasm he gave me. And maybe recall how to string full coherent sentences together.
Finn traces my spine and a content sigh escapes him. “So, since you’re staying in town, will you put an offer in on the place we got snowed in at? I liked the porch on it.” He hums with mischief. “Liked the bedroom, too. And that wall I fucked you against.”
Laughter catches in my throat. “Definitely a highlight.” Sighing, I shake my head. “I actually called the realtor earlier to make an offer, but she told me it sold. Some couple stole it right from under my nose.”
He makes a sympathetic sound and kisses the top of my head. “Well, that makes my next question easy, then.”
I lean up so I can meet his eyes. “And what’s that?”
“Where are you planning to stay until you find a place?” There’s a glint in his eye.
“Well, my stuff is at Riley’s for now. She offered to let me couch surf.” I pull a face, scrunching my nose. “I’ll have to up my real estate game. Make sure my thumbs are lightning-quick so I can achieve hashtag cabin goals.”
Finn snorts. “Did you just use hashtag in a real sentence? Out loud and shit?”
My mouth pops open in mock-offense. “Don’t knock my goals.”
He grins, affecting a more southern drawl to his Montana accent. “Darlin’, I would never.”
I dissolve into giggles when he tugs me down for a kiss.
“Now,” Finn says after he’s kissed me soundly. “My question.”
“And what would that be?”
“Will you stay here?”
For a man who stepped out of his comfort zone to give me an amazing grand gesture earlier tonight, I’m struck by the emotion flickering in his eyes.
I blink, then a bright smile stretches. “Yeah?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah.” His palm smooths up my side. “Stay here at the inn with me instead of Riley’s couch.”
“I’d love that.”
Finn gives me that charming smile that I love and with the kiss I give him, we get started on round—who knows. I’ve lost count. All I know is when I’m with him, my heart soars.
A few days later, the distant sound of Christmas music and the delicious scrape of Finn’s open-mouthed kisses on my neck draws me out of a dream that left a smile on my face. His bed is a cocoon of warmth. I hum, stretching so my body arches against the smooth planes of his naked chest.
“Hi,” I murmur sleepily.
He leans back from teasing my neck and smiles at me. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
The deep rumble of his voice sends a throb of heat between my legs. I slide them together, the material of his flannel—which I’ve officially stolen as my favorite sleep shirt—skims my bare thighs and ass. It’s the only thing I have on.
“I love waking up with you in my bed,” Finn says, lowering his head to resume his slow, seductive torture.
I sink my teeth into my lip. “I do, too. Especially when you—ah—do that.”
His gravelly chuckle vibrates against the column of my throat. I swallow back a moan, not wanting to broadcast to the entirety of Mayberry Inn what’s going on behind Finn’s door. He tugs me closer, pulling my leg around his hip to position himself between my legs. My breath hitches at the hard ridge of him exactly where I need him, only separated by his red plaid sleep pants. He buries his face against my neck and shoulder as our hips rock slowly.
“Finn,” I plead with a breathy sigh.
“What do you need?” He nibbles a patch of skin beneath my jaw.
“I want to kiss you, caveman,” I sass.
“Is that right?” His fingertips skim my cheek as he angles my face toward him.
My arms lock around his neck and I pull him down. He makes a pleased sound and kisses me languidly, both of us smiling into it.
“I see Santa decided I was a good girl this year,” I say between kisses. “He brought me this sexy as hell lumberjack with a kind heart. Best Christmas present ever. I’ll have to send a fruit basket to the North Pole as thanks. Do you think Edible Arrangements can do snowflake shapes?”
Finn chuckles, sliding a palm down my body to massage my ass while he slowly grinds his erection against me in lazy rolls of his hips.
“Can you not talk about other men while I’m doing this to my girl?” He makes my breath catch with the movement of his hips. After another kiss, he pulls back to gaze at me. “Maybe it’s the other way around and I wished for you.”
My smile stretches and a warm glow of joy blooms in my chest. He makes me so happy. “Love you, you big softie.”
Finn huffs out a laugh and kisses my cheek. “Love you, too, beautiful.”
We settle back into snuggling, in no hurry this morning. We have all the time in the world.
“What does your family do for Christmas morning?” I ask.
“When I was a kid, I used to try to be the first to wake up. Grams always beats me, she’s attuned to Christmas morning. She looks forward to it all year.” A sad look twists his handsome features for a moment. “They’ve always made it special. Holidays make me miss my parents more, but it’s also a reminder to be thankful we have each other.”
I tighten my arms around his neck in support. He rubs his hand up and down my back. We hold each other and remain quiet to honor the memory of his parents.
Once the moment of grief passes, he continues. “As I’ve gotten older we have coffee together before we exchange presents. You can hear from the music, they like to start early.”
My mouth curves and I snuggle closer. “I love it.”
Waking up to holiday music is perfect. The fresh scent of something baking also wafts upstairs. It feels so much different than the holidays I’ve grown up with. The love filling the h
ouse is palpable. No one could feel lonely or unwanted here.
“Should probably get up soon,” Finn murmurs, skimming his fingertips beneath the flannel shirt to caress my skin. “Grams is probably dialed up to eleven already.”
A soft giggle shakes my shoulders. “I thought I loved Christmas.”
“No one loves Christmas more than Grams Mayberry. No. One.” Finn levels a serious look at me, but he can only hold it for a second before his eyes crinkle in amusement.
My heart thumps and I cup his face, pulling him back in for another kiss.
A knock comes at the door.
“Are you two up yet?” It’s Grams. “You can make moon eyes at each other downstairs, where there’s coffee and fresh cinnamon rolls. Get your behinds in gear, it’s Christmas!”
Finn drops his head to the crook of my neck. I can’t hold in my tiny sound of delight. He shushes me, pinching my side, which only makes me squirm with more giggles.
“Hurry along now! Don’t make me come in there and drag you both downstairs.”
A stricken look crosses his face as he props up on his elbows. The expression makes me smother a snort.
“Let’s get up,” I murmur, poking him in the chest so he releases his strong hold on me.
“We’ll be there, Grams,” Finn calls.
“You better be, Finn Michael Mayberry.”
I waggle my eyebrows at him. “Ooh, full-named, huh?”
Smirking at my sass, Finn kisses me, swallowing my giggles until I’m clutching his shoulders and breathless.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he draws back, leaving me in a daze. With a smug tilt to his mouth, he pats my ass. “Consider that a promise for later.”
“Can’t wait,” I breathe.
We climb out of bed and steal more intimate touches as we dress.
Downstairs in the family room off the kitchen, Grams wraps me in a hug, then Finn. Gramps is all grins, doing much better since his heart attack. A huge spread of cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee is ready, and the music sets the mood in the background, filling the whole inn with the festive spirit of the holiday.
“Merry Christmas,” Finn says to each of them.
His affectionate smile fills my heart.
“Coffee, Freya?” Grams offers. She’s glowing with love for her family on her favorite holiday. “Try the rolls, too. My secret is I put a bit of orange zest in them. Perfect for the winter season.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say.
“Good enough to eat your weight in the little buggers,” Gramps says with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
“You can only have one,” Grams scolds, stealing the second cinnamon roll Gramps was putting on his plate. “That was the deal. No sneaking more.”
“But I want the sweets,” Gramps grumbles. “You know these are my favorite thing you make, love.”
“Doctor’s orders, Harold Mayberry.” After a beat, Grams smiles and leans in to kiss Gramps on the cheek. “There, that’s the sugar you can have.”
I bite down on a grin while Gramps makes a happy noise and pulls Grams in for another sweet kiss. They’re adorable.
The rustic room is decked out in fresh pine garlands wrapped in tinsel and the biggest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen stands in the corner. I haven’t had the chance to admire the decorations since coming to stay at the inn, so with coffee and a tasty cinnamon bun in hand, I give the Mayberrys a few minutes to themselves while I take in the tree.
It’s beautiful with an assortment of ornaments from vintage to local treasures. Some are handmade and a delighted sound escapes me as I lean closer to one of Finn’s creations. It’s a red-nosed reindeer made from popsicle sticks and a red pom pom with a picture of him as an adorable little boy, his tousled brown hair unruly and curling over his forehead.
“I love this,” I say over my shoulder. “Finn, you were such a cute kid.”
He stops talking to Gramps and turns toward the tree. “Grams, please tell me you didn’t put the embarrassing school ornaments on the tree this year?”
“Don’t be silly,” she says. “Of course I did. Those are my favorites in our collection.”
Finn comes up next to me and groans under his breath. He puts an arm around my waist and tosses me a wry look. “How can I bribe you to forget you saw that?”
I pretend to think it over. Leaning closer, I drop my voice to a sly murmur, “It’ll cost you.” I allow a short pause, then add in a husky tone, “But you’ll definitely enjoy doing it.”
I finish off the last bite of my cinnamon roll and lick the sticky icing from my fingers so only he can see.
Heat flares in his whiskey-colored eyes and his hand flexes on my hip. “You’ll be the death of me.”
Laughing softly, I take his hand and take a seat on the leather couch. Finn’s arm drapes across the back, playing with the loose strands of my hair. Grams and Gramps join us, each settling in the arm chair and recliner.
“We can do presents after another cup of coffee,” Grams suggests. “What does your family like to do on Christmas, Freya?”
A pang hits me in the chest, but Finn squeezes my shoulder, tucking me closer against his side. I shoot him a grateful look.
“They were never as big on the holidays as me. Christmas is my favorite, though.” I share a look with Grams that chases away the brief shadow. “I’m happy just to have the gift of spending time with you all.”
Grams makes a touched noise. “We’re glad to have you here, too.” Her gaze shifts to Finn. “You make our boy happy.”
I swallow back a wave of emotion and put my head on Finn’s shoulder. He rubs my arm and drops a kiss on my head.
“Freya loves holiday movies. Why don’t we put one on after presents?” Finn suggests.
“I’d love that,” I say.
“Let’s do gifts, then.” Grams gets up to freshen our cups of coffee. “Finn, you start.”
Finn rummages in his pocket and pulls me off the couch. When we’re by the tree, he smiles at me.
“Got something special for you.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “It was short notice, but I think you’ll like it.”
A rush of surprise makes my stomach swoop. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
Taking my hand, Finn puts something small and warm in my palm. When I unfurl my fingers, I suck in a breath. It’s a key.
“I know you couldn’t get your cabin,” he rumbles, tipping my chin up. “But I want you here with me. It’s a key to the inn. You can keep staying for as long as you want, or if you buy a house in town, you can come and go. You’re my girl, Freya, and you’re right where you belong.”
“Finn,” I whisper. A beaming smile overtakes my face and I stand on my tiptoes to hug him. “You’re so—I love it. Thank you.”
He hums and holds me close. Grams and Gramps offer us warm smiles as we take a seat on the couch again. Presents are exchanged, along with laughter. When we’re full on Grams’ delicious cinnamon rolls, Finn puts on a movie and we wrap up in blankets. Gramps falls asleep and Finn distracts me with kisses, but it’s the most memorable Christmas ever.
I don’t need to wish for my life to be as perfect as a Christmas movie anymore. I have it now. This year I finally get to have the holiday moments I’ve always longed for, making memories with Finn and his grandparents that have welcomed me into their arms as one of their own. Every day new memories fill my heart up.
Finn Mayberry and his family chose me as much as I have chosen them.
Like so many holiday songs go, this is all I could ever want for Christmas.
Six Months Later
"Freya! Do you know where the Christmas lights are? I would've swore that I put them up here. Right next to the damn donkey blow up," I call from the attic.
My beautiful girlfriend waits by the ladder below.
"Back left corner, in the box labeled ‘lights’, Finn Mayberry," she says exasperatedly.
"He does this every year, I swear." I hear Grams whisper to Freya.
"You know that I can hear you, right?" I grumble.
"Yep." Grams and Freya share a laugh.
The two of them together is more than I can handle sometimes, but then that's where Gramps comes in.
"Oh, both of you leave that poor man alone," Gramps scolds them both.
"Gramps, I literally color coded and labeled everything in that attic not even four months ago."
That she did. She got tired of going up to the attic and not being able to see squat or find anything we needed, so she made it her own personal project to label and color code everything in the attic. Which I must say is quite helpful, but still doesn't solve my issue that the string of lights she's looking for is nowhere to be found. Or so she thinks...
I climb back down the rickety ladder, and fold it back up, the door closing with a final thud.
"Sorry, babe, not sure where they are," I tell her and it earns me a stink eye.
"Finn..." she warns.
"What? I looked everywhere. No lights."
Grams rolls her eyes next to Freya, then pulls Gramps back into the kitchen, leaving us alone.
I tug on Freya's hand and bring her upstairs with me, to our room in the inn, where we've been staying for the past six months.
Yep. Freya officially moved into the Mayberry with me right after I gave her a key on Christmas morning. I didn't want to be apart from her any longer than necessary, so buying or renting another place in Hollyridge was useless. After our big scene in town square, she spent more nights in my bed than on Riley’s couch, and Christmas sealed the deal.
The past six months have been pure bliss and I mean that in the most manly way possible. Having Freya here with me, Grams, and Gramps has been everything. She fits in our family like she's always belonged.
"Finn, why are you dragging me upstairs? I have so much work to do!" She huffs.
She's been planning a Christmas in July event for the Mayberry all month, and all of her hard work is finally paying off. We are fully booked with no vacancies. The inn is thriving better than it has been in years and Freya gets most of the credit for that. She has used social media to turn the inn around. While I stay as far away from it as I can, except for the occasional selfie that she asks for, she's the star of the show. Well, her and Saint. She loves him despite the smell.