Francie’s breath hitched and her lips twitched. “So… you didn’t love her?”
He shook his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking, no. But even if I did—which I didn’t—it was a long time ago. We’ve both long since moved on.”
Francie couldn’t look at him. Their situation was such a mess. She didn’t know what she felt anymore. She looked down at her lap, rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, peered outside into the darkness through windows that were starting to fog up.
“Francie.”
She wiped a circle in the foggy passenger window and looked out that instead of at him.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
She shook her head.
“Talk to me, Francie. Please.” His voice was kind.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve told you how my dad left me and my mom.”
“When you were eight, right?”
She nodded. “Did I tell you about our last conversation?” She realized she was fidgeting with her hands, so she sat on them and stared straight ahead. “After he told my mom he was leaving, I followed him out to the stairs, sobbing and begging him to stay. He just kept saying he had to go. I told him, ‘But Daddy, I love you. Don’t you love me?’ And do you know what he said to me?” She turned and met Dylan’s eyes in the dark cab. She could barely make out his expression but she saw him shake his head. “He said, ‘Have I ever told you or your mom I loved you? Have you ever heard me say that?’ I shook my head no. ‘Then there’s your answer,’ he said.” God. That still hurt her heart to think about. “That’s the last time I ever spoke to my dad.” And the last time she’d ever told a man she loved him.
She dropped her chin to her chest and tears dripped onto her lap.
Dylan didn’t speak. He didn’t even move. Finally, after a few long moments, he said in a soft voice, “So… you don’t believe someone loves you unless they tell you.” It wasn’t a question.
It sounded so simplistic and juvenile when put that way, but…
“Francie. Look at me.”
She didn’t want to, but forced herself to turn her head. It was dark. Maybe he wouldn’t see her tears.
“I’ve never told you I loved you.”
Like he had to rub it in. “I know.” Her voice was just above a whisper.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Chapter Seven
Francie’s head snapped up. “What?” A frisson of hope inched its way into her heart.
“I grew up with two younger sisters who told everyone and everything that they loved them. They told their teachers. Their stuffed animals. Their best friends. Their middle school boyfriends. Mom had barely started dating Pete when they were telling him they loved him.” He blew a quiet raspberry. “Yes, I told Sabrina I loved her. Numerous times. But the words were meaningless. They are just words. And unless those words are backed by action, they mean nothing.”
He reached out and cupped her face, his thumb swiping away the wetness on her cheeks. “I guess I assumed my actions with you spoke louder than those three little words ever could.”
“So… you love me?”
“I do,” he said softly, and her heart swelled so much she could hardly breathe. “Pretty much since the day we met.”
She covered his hand with hers. “But… the minute you found out I was pregnant, you joined the military to get away.”
“Is that what you thought?” He chuckled and hauled her across the bench seat until she sat in his lap, his arms around her waist. He scooted the seat back and cradled her head against his shoulder. “I was a loser, Francie. A college drop out. Bouncing from dead-end job to dead-end job. All I cared about was having fun and getting drunk. I had no goals for myself other than having a good time. And suddenly I was going to be a dad. I needed to grow up fast and make something of myself.” His voice caught. “And make you proud.”
The information sunk into her soul. “But when you proposed,” she began, “you said it wasn’t about love. That it was just temporary.”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest and against her back. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d marry me otherwise—you’re so smart with your whole future plotted out. I thought if I appealed to your sense of honor and doing what’s right for the girls, you’d agree to marry me. And I hoped…” He let out a long breath. “I hoped that once you were married to me, and I’d started to make something of myself in the Air Force, I could talk you into sticking around.”
She turned in his lap, feeling the unmistakable bulge of his desire under her hip. “So… you’ve loved me all along.”
He grinned and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “I have.”
“I want you to say it, Dylan.”
“How ‘bout I show you instead?”
He slid his hands in her hair and kissed her. It started out soft and romantic, but then their tongues and breaths tangled, and his hands slid under her layers of clothes until he found bare skin and she fumbled with his fly. They maneuvered around until she’d kicked off her boots and wriggled out of her leggings. Dylan pushed his jeans down past his hips and his erection sprang free.
“Straddle me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl.
She climbed on top of him. Her knee swung over his lap and planted on the other side of his thighs, and the tip of his cock nudged her opening. Before she could lower herself onto him, he gripped her hips and held her in place.
He looked up at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I want to savor this moment,” he said. “It’s what kept me going many nights in Afghanistan when I couldn’t sleep.”
She grinned wickedly, and wriggled her hips ever so slightly over him. He sucked in a breath and groaned. “You thought of me at night?”
He nodded. “In this exact position. Straddling me. We weren’t in my parents’ truck and your upper body wasn’t covered in flannel and a winter coat, but the rest of the fantasy is accurate.”
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, she sank onto him. Their breaths caught and eyes widened as they came together. When she couldn’t go any lower, she rested her forehead against his and savored the feeling of their bodies joined in the most intimate way. Finally.
Mmm, this felt so right. Her heart sung with the knowledge that he loved her. Even if he wasn’t good at saying it.
“Just… hold still a moment, will you?” Dylan said, his voice shaky. “I don’t want this to end before we’ve even begun.”
Unable to resist, she moved her hips in a small figure eight, like the warm up in her salsa dancing class. He groaned and she made the movement a little bigger.
That did it, he growled something unintelligible and shoved his fingers into her hair, pulling her head close so he could attack her mouth with his kiss. Their tongues sparred, their breaths mingled, their moans harmonized with each other and the up and down action of her hips. Dylan tore open her flannel shirt and buttons flew everywhere, pinging off the windows and back rest. He released the front clasp of her bra and covered her breasts with his large hands.
Pressing her back against the steering wheel, he lowered his head and captured a nipple in his mouth, and the pleasure shot straight from her breast to her clit. She cupped his head and held him in place as he suckled, nipped and kissed her.
“Oh God, Dylan,” she panted. “I’m getting close already.”
He lifted his head and stared into her eyes as he slid one hand between their tightly joined bodies and found her clit.
“Mmm, yes!” she gasped. “I’m just about to…” She squeezed shut her eyes.
“Open your eyes, baby. Let me see you come.”
She opened her eyes to find him watching her. She couldn’t hold back any longer and her body erupted into a huge orgasm. She arched her neck and screamed into the roof of the cab. Dylan growled and dug his fingers into her buttocks, pumping his hips up into hers, faster and faster, intensifying the waves of pleasure shuddering through her body, until he finally found his own release.
/> * * * *
Their eyes were closed, their sweaty foreheads pressed together, their bodies still joined in the most intimate way. Neither of them spoke, the only sound the softly running engine and their loud breathing.
Someone knocked on the driver’s side window. Francie’s eyes popped open to see red and blue lights flashing into the cab and a bright light shining through the fogged up windows. She started to climb off Dylan’s lap, but he held her in place. “Let’s not give him or her more of a show,” he muttered. “Close your coat.”
She looked down to see her breasts in full view, so she jammed the lapels of her heavy coat together across her chest.
Dylan wiped a circle of fog off his window. They squinted their eyes as a flashlight beamed right into their faces. The beam of light moved and the officer shone it on himself.
Dylan grinned and rolled down the window. “Hey Carlos.”
Carlos swung the light back into the cab, and he chuckled. “Dylan Maguire. I heard you were back in town. Everything okay in there?”
Francie’s face must’ve colored fifty shades of embarrassed. She fiddled around with her coat, thanking the heavens that it was long and probably covered anything the cop shouldn’t see.
“Yep. Just made a little pit stop here with my wife.”
Carlos directed the flashlight right in her face and she turned away at the glare. “Oh, sorry.” He lowered the light to his side. “That’s right, I’d heard you got married. Congratulations.” He grinned at Francie and stuck his hand through the window. “Carlos DeLeo. Dylan and I played football together at Winter Lake High.”
Uh… with a little maneuvering, she was able to shake his hand without giving him a peepshow. “Francie. Nice to meet you.” Okay, this was super awkward. Her bare knees straddled Dylan’s bare hips and he was still inside her and—oh, my God—he was getting hard again.
This crazy situation was obviously turning him on.
“So, how long you back for?” Carlos asked, leaning his hip against the truck like he had all the time in the world, and clearly oblivious to what was going on in front of him. He obviously knew they’d been fooling around, but he couldn’t know that Dylan’s cock was inside her, fully erect now, and pressing against her womb.
Her toes curled up in her socks as pleasure built inside her again. Dylan must have sensed that, because his hand slid around to her lower back, and he pulled her in just a bit tighter, which rubbed her core in the most perfect way.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning, and focused on her breathing. She tried to pay attention to what Dylan was saying to Carlos. Was the guy really that clueless?
Finally, finally, Carlos tapped his flashlight against the side of the truck. “I’ll let you guys get back to your evening.”
Thank God, Francie wanted to scream. She and Dylan said their goodbyes as Carlos headed back to his patrol car. Dylan rolled up the window.
“Oh. My. God,” Francie spat out, her laughter bubbling out. “Did he really not know what was going on?”
“You mean that you’re sitting naked on my lap with my dick deep inside you, and you’re close to coming again?” Dylan muttered, grinning ear to ear. He thrust his hips up into her a bit deeper.
Pleasure shot through her. She bit her lip. “Stop that. He’s still out there.”
“Baby, if he didn’t know what we were doing when he was up close and personal, he’s certainly not going to know that I’m doing this.” His hips bucked up into hers again. She gasped at the jolt of pleasure. “And this.” He bucked up again. “And this.”
Her body erupted into another massive orgasm.
As soon as the patrol car backed out of the driveway and drove off, Dylan flipped her onto her back and thrust hard into her. Over and over.
He made her come two more times before they headed home.
* * * *
“We were about to call 911,” Nick drawled as Francie and Dylan strolled into the kitchen a while later. “What happened, did you get lost on the way home?”
The girls squealed and ran over to them, wrapping their arms around their parents’ legs. Someone had changed them into their footie pajamas, and their hair was damp like they’d been given a bath.
Francie wanted to groan. How long exactly had she and Dylan been gone?
Long enough for her to have multiple orgasms, that’s how long. Her body still tingled all over. She probably wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.
Dylan’s fingers entwined with hers, and she felt her face and neck redden. “We ran into Carlos DeLeo,” he explained. “You know how he can talk.”
Everyone nodded. Francie waited, but nobody seemed to wonder how it happened they ran into Carlos. Thank goodness.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Lola said, “but we already ate. You two must be starving.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing they worked up quite the appetite,” Brianna said from the table, where she, Nick, Katie Jo and Pete were playing a card game. Nick guffawed at that and winked at Francie.
Francie blushed.
Dylan just said, “Yeah, we’re pretty hungry,” and squeezed her hand.
After they’d had their share of pizza and salad—Dylan’s family did casual Christmas Eve dinners, unlike tomorrow’s big feast—everyone headed out to the great room for their annual reading of The Night Before Christmas. Francie loved all these holiday traditions and was so glad to be part of them tonight.
She and Dylan sat on the couch, with the girls in their laps. Pete had filled everyone’s mugs with hot wassail spiked with something strong.
“Oh, great,” Francie said, as she took a sip. “I am definitely stopping at one drink tonight.”
“Or… you could get drunk again, but this time I’ll take advantage of you,” Dylan whispered.
Hmm, she liked the sound of that. Well, the second part anyway. She still planned to stop after one drink. The last thing she needed was to be hungover on Christmas morning.
Lola handed Dylan the book. “Since you’re a daddy now and have your own family, I thought you could do the honors.”
“I’d love to,” he said, grinning at his mom. He met Francie’s eyes. “But I think I’d like to give my wife her Christmas present first.” He scooted Macy out of his lap and stood up, holding out his hand to Francie.
Christmas present? Damn. They’d agreed not to buy each other anything. He led her toward the kitchen, to the wide arched doorway separating the rooms.
“It’s Maguire family tradition that you stand under the mistletoe to get your gift,” Dylan said, his voice sounding a little weird.
Mistletoe? She looked up and saw a giant sprig hanging above them. Was that new, or had she just not noticed it before?
When she looked back down, Dylan was kneeling in front of her. She grinned. “What’s this? Another family tradition…?” Her voice trailed off when he pulled a small velvet box from behind his back.
He flipped the box open to reveal a beautiful solitaire diamond ring.
“That’s a… a… wedding ring,” she said, her voice breaking.
Dylan grinned and nodded.
“But we’re already—” She blinked a few times. “Have you had this with you the whole time?”
“I bought it when I was in Germany. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you. Trying to get up the nerve,” he added, with a nervous-sounding laugh.
She peered over his head into the other room. Everyone was smiling and teary eyed, even Brianna. “Did you guys all know about this?”
“Um, excuse me.” Dylan grabbed her hand. “Can I have your attention back with me? We’re about to have a moment here.”
She giggled and sniffled. “Oh, um, I’m sorry. You were saying?”
He kissed the backs of her fingers. “I knew from the moment I met you that you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Unfortunately, I’m not always very good about telling people how I feel. So…” He took a visible breath and smiled up at her. Tears
glistened in his pale blue eyes. “Francesca Marie, I love you. I love you so much it actually hurts.” His voice caught. He held the ring up. “Will you marry me again?” And for her ears only, he whispered, “For real, this time.”
Francie dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him, knocking him to the floor. As he wrapped her into a deep and passionate kiss, she heard Nick say from a distance, “I assume that means she said yes…”
* * * *
It was a couple of hours later that everyone finally headed up to bed, after some last minute gift wrapping and stocking stuffing. Francie shut the bedroom door behind her, and the new ring on her hand caught the dim light. Her heart soared. Dylan wanted to marry her again, during the reception his parents were throwing for them in February. She couldn’t wait.
She turned around to find Dylan standing in the middle of the room, her red stilettos dangling from his hand. “Time to collect on my bet,” he said in a sexy low voice. “You. Naked. Spread-eagle under the Christmas tree, with the lights twinkling down on your beautiful body.”
Her body tightened at his words, but seriously? Downstairs? Right now? “Everyone just went to bed,” she whispered. “They’ll hear us. And you never said anything about being spread-eagle.”
“I want easy access.”
Her panties dampened at the implication.
“Ready?” he asked.
Her body was certainly ready, but— She gasped when he whipped a blanket off a small, brightly lit Christmas tree in the corner. “I never specified which tree or where,” he said, grinning.
When they were both naked, Francie stepped into the red stilettos. Dylan just stared at her a long while, not saying anything, his hot gaze turning her on and making her completely wet.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Maguire,” he finally said, then pulled her down to the floor to give her the biggest, most wonderful gift under that little Christmas tree.
EPILOGUE
Two months later
Francie paced next to the windows in the terminal of the Boise airport, excitement pinging through her veins. Her phone beeped, alerting her to a text. She glanced down at the small screen. Dylan. Getting off plane. See u in a minute. Love you.
Romancing the Holidays: Twelve Christmas Romances - Benefits Breast Cancer Research Page 42