All I Want for Christmas is You

by Brenna Lyons

  It was worse than that. David winced at the sight of Pop holding Robin's discarded shirt and bra. Anticipating an explosion, he shoved his fists in his pockets and cleared his throat.

  Pop whirled around, his gaze panning from David's mussed hair and sweat-misted chest to his bare feet and back up again. He motioned to his son, seemingly at a loss for words to protest David's state of undress.

  It wouldn't have been an issue, if I'd been home alone. He didn't voice that thought. Instead, David tipped his head toward the clothing fisted in Pop's hands.

  His father snapped a startled look at them. His hands opened, and he dropped them to the sofa.

  It took a moment for Pop to find his voice. “Are you serious?” he asked with deceptive calm. Anyone who'd seen Pop uncork when one of them screwed up knew that look well enough.

  “Yes. Very.” Completely. More than Zach ever was.

  “If you hurt her…” The threat hung like a pall over the room.

  “I won't,” David promised. Never purposely, but after this fiasco, there was little chance Robin wouldn't run screaming the other way. Whatever was growing between them was too fragile for this kind of shock.

  She is too fragile for it.

  Pop grunted in that way he had of announcing a discussion wasn't over. Or maybe that he'd be discussing it with Ma and letting her smack heads for him. He started toward the front door, shot a pained look at the master bedroom, then let himself out. The slam of the truck door was like a gunshot in the silence of the condo.

  David ambled to the sofa and scooped up her clothes. He hesitated, then marched back to her. Robin looked up from the laces on her hiking boots, her face paling at the sight of the clothes in his hand.

  He didn't return them to her. Something told David she'd bolt, if he made it that easy for her.

  Robin didn't go back to the laces. She didn't look directly at him either.

  The rising tension was too much for him. “Don't do it,” he whispered.

  She stared at her boots, twisting the laces around her fingers in a nervous little motion. “Don't do what?” Her voice sounded of tears.

  “Whatever you're about to rush into. Consider it carefully. Talk to me first.” He managed not to plead with her…barely.

  Robin shook her head slowly. What was she saying? That she didn't want to talk to him? That sex had ruined whatever friendship they'd enjoyed before it, as he'd feared it would, in the beginning?

  Ice settled in his gut at that thought. “It's over. Isn't it?” God damn it! Never my time and never my fault, but I'm always fucked over with her.

  Her head tipped back, and she gaped at him. She pulled tight on the laces, turning her fingertips a few shades paler than her face. “You want that?”

  “No! Hell no, I don't want that.”

  She didn't reply. Robin seemed to consider it, then went back to tying her boots. Her hands shook, so that she fumbled the tie the first time and had to start again.

  David ground his teeth in frustration. “I don't want you to go,” he admitted.

  “What does Pop want?” she countered.

  “This has nothing to do with him.”

  Robin faltered, took a deep breath, and pulled the double tie tight.

  I have to stop her from leaving. “I don't know what Pop wants. I couldn't care less what he wants. But, Robin… I don't think he—”

  She pushed to her feet and took two jerking steps toward him. Her hand came up in silent request for her clothes.

  He didn't relinquish them immediately. “This isn't over, Robin. When you're calm, we will be discussing this.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes.

  It was time to lay all the cards on the table. “I walked away once before without a fight. I won't do that twice.”

  Her face went a few shades paler, and she moved her mouth as if to question him. She didn't force the words out, whatever they were.

  David settled her clothes in her wavering hand, heartened that she didn't fist them and run. She stared at him, shocked…or perhaps waiting for something he couldn't name.

  He leaned toward her and feathered a kiss against her lips.

  When Robin moved, she meandered toward the front door. David turned to watch her. Her coat shrugged on, she hesitated with her hand on the knob. Just when he felt sure she was going to look at him, Robin let herself out.

  “It's not over,” he vowed.

  Chapter Eight

  Robin reached for her jacket again, then retreated. Nothing made sense anymore. When had the world stopped making sense?

  For a short period of time, after Zach died, it hadn't. But it had been well over a year since she'd felt this lost and confused.

  Should I go to the party?

  Her stomach clenched at that thought. If Cal and Mollie were upset, showing up would be a bad choice.

  Then again, they might be offended if she avoided them. They might take it personally.

  And David… She shivered. What had he meant when he said he'd walked away once? According to Zach, David had never been serious about a woman before. As close as the brothers were, it was unlikely David hadn't shared something of that magnitude with Zach.

  Before? Her heart stuttered at the idea that he was serious now…about her.

  “I won't do that twice.”

  She ambled to the sofa and dropped onto the center cushion. Okay… David was serious about her. It wasn't just sex games.

  This is what I wanted. It was, so why was it so damned scary?

  Because she never believed for a moment that this was possible? Because she'd written David off as nothing but a ladies' man who would never commit?

  Or maybe because she could lose David like she'd lost Zach? Could she survive that loss twice?

  Stop that. She was panicking and making excuses. Robin just wished she understood why she was doing it.

  ———

  David could feel Pop's glare from across the room, and he flicked a glance at the clock. Robin was more than half an hour late. She wasn't coming. His heart sank.

  If he was very lucky, she was home thinking and worrying. The alternative was her packing up with the idea of running and leaving the whole problem behind. How many times had Zach complained that Robin was flighty? Too many.

  Would she do something that crazy? What would he do if she did try to break all ties and leave?

  Screw this. It isn't ending this way.

  He marched to the tree, pushed the other packages from the pile, and scooped up his gift to Robin. It was one of three he'd bought her, and it wasn't the one he'd intended to give her in front of his family, until Pop had interrupted them.

  A quick pit stop in his bedroom to retrieve another, and he shouldered on his leather jacket and headed for the door.

  No one called out to him. No one stopped him. His mind processed the information and returned the answer that they all knew, and they wanted to see what he was going to do to make this right.

  David didn't look back to confirm it. As he'd told Robin, he couldn't care less what they thought about it. Instead, he left the party and made the seven blocks to her condo in as many minutes.

  The key was in the lock before David stopped to consider his reasons for it. The time for the cautious approach was long past. If he left without Robin, it wouldn't be for a lack of making himself clear.

  Robin looked up at him, her expression unreadable. She'd dressed for the party, and her coat lay a few feet away, but she hadn't screwed up the courage to face Pop.

  Or maybe to face me. “Coming to the party?” he inquired. “You did help plan it.”

  “What's the mood over there?”

  David shuffled over to the breakfast bar and leaned against it, pushing away images of their very intimate dining experience on it. “Everyone wants you there.” Probably more than they wanted David there, if the truth were to be told.

  She didn't reply.

  “I want you there,” he stressed.

  “I thoug
ht you said we needed to talk.” Her voice squeaked a little in the middle.

  “We do.”

  She launched in before he could decide where to start. “What did you mean?”

  “About?” His shoulders eased somewhat. At least she'd been thinking while they'd been apart. Though Robin wasn't making sense, she was asking questions about what happened earlier.

  “When you said you'd walked away once?” she qualified. The hands clasped in her lap tightened in anxiety.

  “I thought that would be obvious.”

  Her expression said it wasn't.

  David dragged a hand through his hair. How many times had he lain next to her at night, considering telling her how he felt? How many times had he argued that he'd have to hint at it? How ironic was it that he had to hit her over the head with it like a sledge against an old horsehair wall?

  He'd come here with the intent to be blunt. It was time to max out the bet and hope for the best. “Zach knew what he was doing when he didn't introduce you to me until you were a steady thing. Anything less, and I would have made my move, too.”

  She glanced at the windows and then back at him. “You…uh…” Her throat moved, as if she was swallowing a lump.

  “I've been waiting more than three years, Robin.”

  “For?” The squeak was back in her voice.

  “You. I asked you if I could have anything I want. I know what I want, Robin.”

  She was silent for a handful of moments. “And then?”

  David pushed off the breakfast bar and strolled to her, offering his hand.

  ———

  Robin took it, her heart pounding. He wanted her. He was serious about her, but she didn't know the specifics. Was this a one-upmanship thing or something more?

  When she was standing next to him, David reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a package about the size of a Nintendo game controller. “I wanted to give you this,” he announced.

  She took it with shaking hands, turning it to the line of tape down the bottom. It was roughly the same size as the package he'd been teasing her all week was hers, but this one was wrapped in green foil wrap instead of the pearlescent, blue-and-white-striped paper.

  It took a few heartbeats for the present behind the torn wrapping paper to make sense. When it did, Robin's heart sank.

  “Vibrating underwear?” Then again, what had she been expecting? It was a sexual relationship, after all.

  The fact that he was going to give these to her lit off another horrifying fact. “You were going to put these under the tree at a family party? The guys and their wives are one thing, but your parents and the kids?”

  “No. This present was stashed in my bedroom.”

  Another reminder that it was sexual. She stared at him. “I don't get it.” Was he trying to tell her that's all he wanted? A buddy with benefits? That was appalling.

  A second present appeared from an inside pocket, the blue and white wrapped one. “The other one was just in case this one fell flat. It was the least I'll accept. This one… This one is what I'm hoping for.”

  Robin dropped the first on the sofa and took the second. The box inside was a beautiful white satin that could have acted as its own wrapping. On some level, she was surprised he'd wrapped it further.

  White does get dirty. That was probably it. Wrapping it kept the satin clean.

  “Robin?”

  She opened it, lifting out the stained glass ornament inside. It was in shades of blue, white, and gold, with both gold-plated lines and yellow-gold rings in the design. The interlocked ring design was set onto a backdrop of a blue and white geometric pattern. Robin turned, seeking to highlight the design by getting a strong light behind it.

  It didn't work. “There's something inside,” she wondered aloud.

  “Why yes, I believe there is.” David gave her a few heartbeats to stew at his teasing. Then he reached over her shoulder. “There's a clasp…right—”

  Robin batted his hand away and worked the clasp open. There was no doubt what the blue velvet box inside held. Words stuck in her throat.

  “I bought it more than a week ago. Just so you don't think I did it to get Pop off our backs or something.”

  Her face burned at the insinuation. “Pop…”

  “He would only have been upset about me sleeping with you as a lark, you know.”

  She wasn't so sure about that. He hadn't been happy about Zach living with her before they were married. What was different now?

  David lifted the ring box from inside the ornament and sank to one knee before her. “You don't have to decide tonight. You don't have to wear the ring now, if you don't want to. I'll even take it with me, if you ask me to. If you're not ready to make this decision, I understand completely. I just…”

  “Yes.” To nearly anything he offered. Where they lived, what furniture they kept or discarded… It was all unimportant.

  His mistook her answer, probably as a hint that he should finish his sentence. “I just want you to know what I want. What I hope we're heading for here. You're all I want for Christmas, Robin. I love you. And, if you won't let me put that ornament on the tree this year, maybe—”

  “Yes. David…yes.” Happy tears stung her eyes. “I love you, too.”

  “Yes, to…what part?”

  “Yes, you can put that ring on my finger and the ornament on the tree. And, yes…I will marry you.”

  He stared at her, seemingly stunned that she'd agreed so readily. David took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger.

  Robin flexed her hand, admiring it. “I was wrong. You have great tastes in decorating…or accessorizing, anyway.”

  She glanced at the clock, and her heart stuttered. “Oh no! We're an hour late…and we're hosting.”

  David rose, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Let's go put that ornament on the tree.”

  ———

  All conversation in the room ceased at Robin's first step through the door. David shut it and followed her to the tree. She raised the ornament, and David grasped the chain loop hanger. Together, they placed it front and center in the overloaded mish-mash of heirlooms.

  “Looks beautiful,” she complimented his choice.

  “So do you.”

  Her laugh was muted by his kiss. He'd intended it to be a simple peck on the lips, but her lips parted to his, and her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twining into his hair. He indulged himself.

  The silence in the room was replaced with relieved sighs. Then a squeal of delight. A second. An “ew” from one of the younger boys. Excited chatter and laughter.

  Now it sounds like a party. David pulled away from the kiss, releasing Robin into the throng of women vying to get a look at the ring.

  Les stepped between them, blocking his view of her. “Good thing you brought her back. I think Pop would have disowned you and kept Robin.”

  “Pop and Dad would disown me and keep Heather,” his cousin Ross commented.

  “They'd be right to,” David quipped in return.

  The crowd hushed, and David looked around for a reason. Pop mounted the stepstool set next to the tree and placed the antique star on top.

  It was a moment that always stole David's breath away. There was something magic in that motion. He glanced at Robin, heartened to see that her awe of it had survived the last two years of hell.

  “Now,” Pop announced, “Christmas has begun.”

  “It can't begin until everyone is home,” his mother agreed.

  “And if I hadn't managed to convince Robin to marry me?” David inquired.

  After nearly three decades, David knew Pop's mock warning look when he saw it. “If you hadn't brought Robin home to the family somehow, it would have taken a proctologist to get the pine needles out of your backside.”

  David winced, and the roar of laughter was deafening. That's Pop.

  Epilogue

  February 5, 2010

  “You did not,” Robin protested, cl
early horrified by his joke.

  “You don't want to elope?” After the rigid, scheduled wedding she'd had planned with Zach, he'd felt sure she'd want something uncomplicated.

  She sank onto the sofa next to him, deep in consideration. “Well, I do. With a family party afterward,” she qualified.

  “No Cool Whip, please.” Far from a simple mop-up, they'd found smudged, tacky handprints for weeks after the children's treasure hunt in the sweet dessert topping. It was almost enough to turn David off the idea of food-based sex games. Almost.

  “No Cool Whip,” she agreed. “It was a bad idea.”

  David draped an arm around her and pulled Robin to his side. “No. It was a good idea, but maybe more for the Fourth of July, where the kids can jump in a lake afterward…or play in sprinklers.”

  “We'll have to suggest it.”

  “Jack will be so pleased. He offered his lake house this year, you know.”

  Robin didn't smile as he'd expected her to.

  “So, back to the subject,” he hinted.

  “Well, the Elvis impersonator thing was a little much.” Her nose scrunched up in distaste.

  “That was a joke.” Didn't she know that? He'd laid the image of the tacky Vegas wedding on just to annoy his parents and to stall their overt hinting at a wedding date.

  Still, his Internet cruising on the subject of wedding chapels had yielded one gem. “There's a sweet little chapel just outside Vegas, though. There's a man-made lake on the property, and they have an arbor for sunset weddings. There's a professional photographer on staff. His work is pretty spectacular.”

  She hummed a note that sounded like contentment and laid her head against his chest. “How soon can we arrange it?”

  Score! “I took the liberty of checking. Next month, if you're game.”

  Her arms circled his waist. “Four tickets to Vegas, coming up.”

  “Four?” His dreams of a romantic honeymoon on the lake before returning home seemed to wilt.

  “This is your parents' only chance to see a son get married,” she reminded him.

  David kicked his feet up on the table. “I guess it is.” And he wouldn't begrudge them that. His mother had been as excited about the wedding preparations as Robin had been the last time. He couldn't cheat her out of that. “Okay. Four tickets and a party when we get back.”