by Natasha Boyd
“HOW ABOUT THIS one?” Evan asked gleefully.
The Douglas fir was taller than he was and he stared at it like a prized kill he’d taken down himself. I had absolutely no clue what made a Christmas tree a good one, aside from knowing that a Charlie Brown-like twig just wouldn’t do in our big house.
Whoa. Our house. I smiled a little at the way my subconscious had accepted what my neurotic mind hadn’t. Sometimes even my crazy knew I was crazy. One day we would live in that house. One day we will fill it will love and photographs and memories and children. I knew Evan would be patient with me. With the way his shooting schedule was for The Heirs, there was no way he could make a permanent move there yet anyway—a thought that made me relax even more.
“I like it,” I said and melted at the shining smile that morphed his face.
He went to one of the men working in the Christmas tree lot and together they started loading it onto the top of the SUV. Evan paid and signed an autograph for the owner’s wife and soon we were back in the car with the big ass tree tied to the roof.
Evan reached across the gearshift and held my hand as the radio played holiday songs. The snow was drifting down fast, covering the road and making it hard to see out the windshield. I wondered what the snow was like in Philly…and then for a second I thought of Mexico and Desire Resort and Spa and how the weather there was surely perfect. That place had been so gorgeous, everything about it luxurious. When I’d offhandedly mentioned the idea of us going back someday for a little getaway, Evan quickly silenced the suggestion. Every now and then I saw a grimace paint Evan’s face when anything remotely linked to his Casanova past was mentioned and I knew he was still holding on to guilt. As much as he opened up about why he’d kept his distance from love and commitment, I could sometimes see that he still felt that disappointment in himself for wasting time and for undoubtedly breaking a few hearts along the way. It wasn’t going to happen overnight, but I knew deep down the two of us could grow together and learn to let go of the past. I’d slowly but surely let go of my abandonment and intimacy issues—I mean, he bought me a mansion for Christ’s sake, the man wasn’t going anywhere. And Evan would slowly but surely let go of his self-loathing, recognizing at some point that he was not defined by his former missteps.
“Shit,” Evan muttered and pulled me from the depths of my mind.
He slowed the car down and pulled off to the shoulder. That’s when I saw the little sedan spinning its tires over a heap of snow. When he put the car in park, I unbuckled my seatbelt, poised to open my door, but Evan’s voice stopped me.
“You stay in the car.”
“What? Why? I can help you.”
“The visibility is shit and it’s only getting worse. Someone could skid off the road while you’re out there.” His brows were pulled together and his mouth was a hard line. It was his challenge face.
I huffed and set my eyes on him firmly. “Someone could skid off the road while you’re out there too. What if I don’t want you to get out?”
Evan huffed loudly and flicked his eyes from the stranded car back to me. He was getting mad. I always wanted to laugh when we had conversations like these. We were always dancing back and forth over the lines of who held the power. As much as I liked his direction in the bedroom, I wasn’t always quick to listen to him outside of the sheets. His eyes moved to the windshield again, sighing as a man got out of the driver’s seat and a woman came from the passenger side to take his place. “Okay, come on.”
I didn’t gloat. These people needed help and that was what was important. Stepping outside, the bitter wind stole my breath and my hair was instantly covered in huge powdery clumps of snow that shot from the sky.
The man, who had just taken position behind the little blue car, turned with a relieved half-smile as we approached.
“Can we help, man?” Evan asked.
“That would be great. Thanks for stopping,” the man said. Evan and I flanked him on either side at the trunk as he hollered up to the woman behind the wheel. “Give it a little gas, babe, we’re gonna start to rock it!”
I’ll admit I wasn’t much help, but it only took about ten minutes of us pushing the car to get it out of the snowbank and back on the road. When the car was clear of the huge lump of snow, the woman got out of the driver’s seat and came to thank us. I snickered when her face went pale.
The man shook Evan’s hand vigorously. “You guys were lifesavers. We would’ve been out here for hours. That was so nice of you to stop and help. Thank you so much.”
Evan chuckled and shook his head. “Of course, man. Get home safe,” he said. “And Merry Christmas.”
The woman was still gaping at Evan as the man shook my hand appreciatively too. Evan slipped his arm around me and we waved at the couple as we got back in the car. I laughed the minute the door closed and I saw the man motioning for his wife to get in the passenger seat, completely oblivious to why she was so stunned, her feet planted firmly in the snow as she watched Evan’s every move.
“You could’ve thrown her a bone,” I joked.
He just laughed and slowly pulled onto the street again, letting silence fill the car comfortably.
“Evan,” I started.
He hummed and reached to turn the radio down, still watching the road.
“You’re a really good guy.”
I heard him swallow hard and then he glanced at me, tension between his brows. Pulling off my glove, I slipped my fingers through the sandy golden hair at the back of his head. He sighed at my touch and I continued, unable to stop myself from the overwhelming emotion I’d suddenly been flooded with. It was so simple but it said so much about him.
“You don’t do anything for the sake of yourself—your image. You didn’t take a picture or sign an autograph for that woman because you didn’t want it to be a story. Evan Weston saves stranded couple on snowy highway. Right?” I said. “You made sure that shy girl at the store, the dark-haired one, got her picture with you even though she didn’t have the nerve to ask.”
His eyes flashed to me again. “You were watching?” he breathed.
A smile lifted my mouth and I nodded. “Yeah. Evan, you…you didn’t buy the house for yourself…you didn’t even really buy it for me.”
Evan’s breathing started to stagger and he turned down the long driveway. The car slowed and he looked over at me. Everything I loved about him was showing in his eyes. His passion, his strength, his humility, his love, his flaws. A few mistakes had given him an underserved reputation that was only now starting to diminish since he’d gone public with me. It took me mere days at the resort to realize he wasn’t who the world thought he was and I hoped that soon everyone would see it. Most of all, I wanted him to see it. I never want him to doubt what a wonderful man I thought he was.
I nodded toward the huge house with the big red front door and smiled, completely at peace with calling it my home despite the fact that I might not live there for a while. “You bought this big house—with a big kitchen for baking cookies and plenty of bedrooms—for our family, right?”
He let go of a sigh and I saw a little smirk dance on his lips as he pulled into the garage. When he parked the car, he faced me without a word. With that silent look, I saw I was right.
“Evan Weston, you are such a good man,” I whispered. “The fact that you’ve gone so long believing the opposite breaks my heart.”
I rested my palm on the side of his face, feeling the stubble he’d let grow over the last few days. His glossy hazel eyes swept over my features and settled on my mouth.
“We should get inside,” he muttered.
My lips twisted, preparing to pin him with another bold declaration of affection, but the way his eyes had just barely misted kept me from doing anything other than nodding in agreement.
We stripped off our snowy coats and boots in the garage and Evan cut the tree loose from the roof of the car to set it up in the empty corner so it could dry out and the branches could settle. I
nside, we were greeted by an eager Fifi, sniffing us before giving a loud woof in hopes of getting her belated dinner. Evan scooped her some food from the bag he’d brought with him and I loaded the groceries into the refrigerator silently. I turned, opening my mouth to ask Evan what kind of cookies he wanted to bake—hoping the change of subject would ease him—and collided with his solid chest. I looked up at him, so close to me, and felt a whisper of bliss skate across my skin just from the look in his eyes.
His hand rose to cup my cheek and I felt the intensity in his stare. “Thank you,” he whispered.
My breath stuck in my throat and my heart swelled. As he kissed me, his hands held on to my hips and pushed me back against the stainless steel door of the refrigerator. I whimpered at the feeling of his tongue slipping past my lips, the sweetness of his breath mingling with mine. Evan left my mouth and looked at me just as seriously as before, but didn’t breathe a word. He took my hand and led me upstairs to our bedroom.
Just inside the door, he pushed my hair over my shoulders and lifted my sweater over my head before he nuzzled close to my breasts. His fingers worked quickly to release me from my bra and as the warm air hit my exposed skin, his tongue skimmed across one of my nipples, making my knees buckle. I felt every nerve in my body light up, loving the way his touch was so slow and soft. He was taking his time. Worshiping me.
Evan picked me up and carried me to the bed we’d left a mess that morning. He stared down at me lovingly, still quiet as he pulled my jeans and panties away from my body. I watched eagerly from the mattress as he took his clothes off, showing me the body I’d loved so many times. When he climbed over me, I felt my stomach tighten and my mouth quiver in anticipation.
“I love you, Danielle.”
“I love you, Evan.”
Every time the words fell from this mouth, I rejoiced internally. He loved me. He had been loving me for months and it felt like a lifetime. Evan’s hand skimmed the length of my naked body, causing goosebumps to scatter along my flesh. He pressed his hot mouth to all his favorite places. My throat. My ears. My nipples. My navel. My clit.
Each ragged breath I drew in brought a different whisper of devotion from him. He reminded me of how beautiful he thought I was. He told me how he loved my body. He expressed his gratification when I opened my legs to him, shuddering as his fingers strummed languidly along the sensitive flesh of my pussy.
He pushed two fingers inside of me and I gripped his biceps as I sank down harder onto his hand. The light chuckle he breathed at my greed made the ball of fire in my belly pulse a little hotter. Evan didn’t stop whispering to me. His enchanting, haunting melody of love and passion and completely unrestricted feelings filled me with more pleasure than I’d ever known. His touches were slow but firm. Gentle but intense. My hips were moving, my body aching for him to take me, but he kept his pace steady.
When he finally hovered above me and locked eyes with me, I felt every touch echo across my flesh again. His lips crushed mine and his cock slid into me deeply, making me groan into his mouth. He refused to break the kiss as he dragged himself out of me achingly slowly before pushing in again with power. A joyful cry pulled from his lips and I felt myself drift into nirvana as he pumped a little faster and a little harder each time. Evan’s gaze was firmly on mine; every time my eyelids fluttered open, I saw the heady mixture of love and lust that brewed behind those hazel irises. With every motion of his cock, I panted, feeling energy expanding inside of me, ready to burst.
Suddenly, he slowed his tempo and I gazed up to see him, devastatingly beautiful and smiling at me faintly. I reached up and touched his face just as he moved deep inside of me again, making me moan. His grin expanded and I gripped strands of his hair as he abandoned restraint and fucked me wildly. I felt the familiar tingle in my gut and the heat that rushed through my body as his cock pummeled me deliciously. I started to croak out grunts and groans and curse words, telling him I was close and he was so fucking good.
Evan cursed and a deep breath came out of him as I let go, my walls clenching around him, my body trembling. He succumbed to the ecstasy we’d been building together and collapsed on top of me. The weight of him was one I craved every day. His frame pushing down on me, encasing me in the armor of his strength, made me feel safe and…home. Evan was my home.
“You’re right,” he breathed. “The second I walked into this house I saw our future. I could just feel it.”
He pushed himself up again and gazed down at me, his hair damp with sweat and flopping over his forehead. The sincerity in his eyes held me captive and it was as if my orgasm ricocheted through me once more as the love in his stare rippled through my senses.
“I saw it all, Dani. You and me, the dog, a couple of kids,” he breathed. He rolled next to me and pulled me against him as I caught my breath. My fingers reached out and traced his bottom lip for a slow second. I wanted it all. He was my forever. He was the only plan I’d ever been sure of. The only man I’d ever trusted with my heart and the only person to ever know exactly how I needed to be treated. Evan was made for me and I was made for him. Sentimentality always gave me that fleeting thought that we we’re always supposed to find each other—that Annie made it happen. Either way, whatever in the universe had brought us together, he was mine. I was his. Ward and Weston.
“This is our home,” I said. “I don’t know when we’ll end up here, but I can see it too. This is where we belong.”
His arms wrapped around me and pulled me tightly to his chest. I fell asleep against him, knowing that our life together was only beginning and it would be wonderful.
I NEVER THOUGHT of myself as the grand gesture type, but that’s what Danielle did to me. She made me want to give her the moon and the stars. Spoiling her was one of my greatest pleasures. She was the kind of girl that made me want to do stupid shit. I wanted to shower her with gifts and love and surprises for the rest of our lives.
“Shh, hang on…I think I heard something,” I whispered into the phone.
“Dude, are you freaking out?” Harrison chuckled on the other end.
I held the phone away and listened for her footfalls above the kitchen. I must’ve been imagining it. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I needed to get a handle on myself. This was the ultimate grand gesture. There was no way I’d have a quivering voice when I asked her the most important question of our lives.
“I don’t think she’s up yet,” I said, putting the muffins in the oven. The smell would wake her soon enough. My girl loved her breakfast.
“You’re gonna be fine, man. She loves you. She loves the house. It’s all good, Ev. She’s going to say yes.”
My best friend—the man who I’d claimed as a brother years ago—had a way of putting my mind at ease. He’d always been the one to calm me down or set me straight. He was my life fixer. For years he’d been my first call when anything happened, good or bad. The first time something happened and my first instinct was to call Danielle, I’d almost felt guilty. But then I just ended up calling to tell him how that gut reaction had made my feelings for Danielle crystal clear. He was happy for me and said he was glad she’d knocked me on my ass in love. He was nervous when I first told him about Danielle back when we were still at the resort, but the second I came home and he saw how lovesick I was, he told me to get my ass on a plane. He’d been with me when I bought the ring and he’d been on the phone with me when I got up in the middle of the night to start preparing my proposal because other than the woman of my dreams, he was the most important person in my life.
At first I wasn’t going to do it here, not after the way she reacted about the house. But the way she loved me last night—the way she looked at me and told me I was a good man…I didn’t want to spend another day with her as my girlfriend. I needed her to be my fiancée. My wife. My everything.
“You think she’ll like it? I hope she’s not mad I already decorated a little,” I said, moving from the kitchen to the expansive living room, scrutinizing
my handiwork.
Harrison laughed and I knew if he’d been in the same room as me, he would’ve slapped me on the back. “She won’t be mad. You’re about to make all her fucking dreams come true.”
I grinned and took another deep breath. Nope, hopefully she was about to make all my fucking dreams come true. It would only take one word.
Harrison mumbled something I couldn’t make out. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing, sorry,” he said.
I barked a laugh, suddenly completely relaxed about the way I was about to change my life and utterly humored by the tone my best friend had taken with me.
“Is there a chick in your apartment!?” I asked in disbelief.
Harrison’s voice shot up an octave, “What? No!”
“Oh shit, man. It’s Christmas Eve! Is she a clinger?” I joked.
He was silent for a moment and I felt a little twinge in my chest. He was so good at reading me and helping me with all of my shit. I hated that I didn’t know how to take his silence.
“I was kidding, Harry. Everything okay?”
He chuckled a little, but still seemed to be holding back. I relaxed a little when he laughed again. “Yeah, man. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you did a good job decorating. She’s going to love it. If she doesn’t say yes, I’ll buy a case of Johnny Walker Blue and help you drink her away,” he ribbed.
“Fuck off.” I laughed.
“Seriously, good luck. She’s going to love it. You’ve got this.”
I let go of a shaky breath and tried to steady my hands. She was the only thing that had ever made me this nervous. I thanked Harrison again and hung up just as I heard another shift in the floorboards overhead.
She was headed downstairs. This was it.
THE SMELL OF pumpkin muffins lured me from my bed. Evan had ravished me once more and left me completely spent—sleeping like a baby all through the night—but my stomach was too interested in those muffins to let me sleep any longer. I slipped into my robe and tied it at the waist, sad that Evan wasn’t at my side. He was an early riser and I was not…at all. I’d started to become accustomed to it on our weekends together, but I still didn’t like waking up to empty sheets. I wanted him near me all the time. I wanted his arms around me every morning when I woke up.