All I Want for Christmas is Big Blue Eyes

by Claire Ashgrove

  “Josh?”

  At the sound of her voice, his head snapped up, and he whipped around. His handsome features lit with an elated smile. “I didn’t think you’d change your mind.”

  “I haven’t. I can’t accept this idea of yo—”

  He stepped aside, revealing his hours of hard work.

  Amanda stared at the three-dimensional scale model. Her heart lurched. Her throat tightened.

  Though the land mirrored her plot and his, there were no parking lots, no storefronts framed by neatly potted plants or pruned trees.

  Instead, a two-story brick mansion, reproduced from an early 1900’s design, sat atop a grassy field. Four white columns supported a prominent, circular front porch, and whitewashed wood framed each of the eight windows on both levels. On the south end, a double-story screened-in porch overlooked a garden, complete with replica marble fountains. And in the three, cupola windows on front, small Christmas wreaths hung. Behind the gargantuan mansion, a two-story carriage house sported an attached paddock. Fenced in white post-rail, it contained four miniature horses—one, a black and white spotted pony.

  Warwick Manor.

  Tears blurred Amanda’s vision. She blinked them back furiously as she reached for the envelope propped up against the columned front porch.

  She ripped into it and pulled out the paper contents. Quickly, she scanned the documents. Josh had paid her taxes, presented her with three years’ worth of receipts. And as her hands trembled, a small business card tumbled from within the pages. Embossed across the front was the name of a lawyer she didn’t know and an address somewhere in Kansas City.

  Josh moved beside her and silently ran his hand down her back. When she looked up at him, her tears spilled shamelessly, tumbling down her cheeks and staining the papers she held.

  With a tender smile, he brushed them away and nodded at the model. “It comes apart,” he murmured. Leaning forward, he lifted the entire top floor away from the bottom, then took the roof off the top.

  Amanda choked out a little sob as she gazed down at the miniature replica. Dining hall, front parlor, music room, kitchen—every room on the bottom floor he’d decorated. The walls were colored, false flooring fixed to the bottom. Tiny tables and chairs, more suited for a dollhouse than a design model, fashioned each little square into a cozy, turn-of-the-century living space.

  The second floor held the bedrooms. A master bedroom in a soft shade of blue with replica Queen Anne furniture. Emma’s room stood out in soft pink. Three guest rooms and two additional bathrooms finished out the top floor.

  Sniffling, she fingered the little doily quilt atop the girls’ sleigh bed. “Oh, Josh,” she whispered, overcome.

  “I have blueprints of the whole thing,” he said in a quiet voice that was laden with emotion. “I went in through the broken windows over the years and recorded every nook and cranny. Explored like we did the night we stumbled across it and decided we’d own it some day.”

  She cried a little harder. All this time, she’d thought he never put thought into her, into what they’d had. Yet in his own way, he’d been just as devoted.

  “It’s not all perfect in this model, but I didn’t have a lot of time.” He indicated the master bedroom with one finger, and through her bleary vision, she’d have sworn his hand shook. “Look under the bed, baby.”

  She chuckled. God, he knew her too well. Had he stuffed shoes under there? Her fluffy socks?

  With a sniffle, she picked up the tiny Queen Anne bed and let out a little sob. No shoes, no socks, no dust bunnies. No, underneath that perfect miniature laid a sparkling, diamond ring.

  Josh picked it up, and in one fluid motion, dropped down to his knee and took her hand in his.

  Amanda’s world spun. Her knees went weak. She reached for the edge of the table to keep from falling.

  “I love you, Amanda.” His voice caught. He cleared his throat and continued at a whisper. “I have from that first afternoon of football practice when I saw you rehearsing cheers on the sidelines. It took me a long time to figure it out. Too damn long to get it right. But I’d lay down my life for you, for Emma…for us.” He slid the ring on her finger, and brought the back of her hand to his lips. “Will you marry me, baby?”

  “Oh, get up!” she cried as her shoulders shook. “Get up and kiss me.”

  He was on his feet in an instant, kissing her like he never wanted to stop. Pouring all his love into a kiss that left her breathless and trembling. When he eased it to a close, he dusted his lips across her wet cheeks, and murmured near her ear, “Let me hear you say yes.”

  She threw her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. “Yes, Josh. A thousand times, yes. I’ll marry you.”

  With a little celebratory laugh, he picked her up and spun her around. Setting her back down in front of the model, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips and tapped an outbuilding that lay behind the manor. “A greenhouse, so you can grow your own flowers, if you want. And this…” He tapped another outbuilding fashioned in brown to resemble wood. “Is my new office. It will take close to a year to build the house alone. But I know builders who will work extra hard to get it done.”

  Struggling to breathe normally, she gave the envelope in her hand a little shake “What’s the attorney for?”

  “We’re going to fight Tyler’s will. I want Emma’s name on that half of the land, and you, not Sandra, should be trustee.”

  She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, stifling back another sob.

  He gathered her close and tucked her head against his shoulder. “I love you so much, Amanda. Merry Christmas, baby.” His voice was thick with emotion.

  “I love you too,” she managed through a fresh burst of tears. Gazing down at the tiny masterpiece he’d managed to erect in such a short time, she took in the details. Trees, and fences, a little sidewalk, a reflection pool, a paved driveway. He’d thought of everything—down to the address on the front of the house painted in tiny black numerals.

  Calmer now, she sniffled, and wiped at her exposed cheek. “Why are there four horses?”

  His chuckle rumbled deep in side his chest. “That’s me, dreaming.”

  Tipping her chin up to look at his tender expression, she asked, “Of?”

  “That maybe this week with you, with our carelessness…” He trailed off, falling into silence for a moment. With a deep breath, he confessed, “I hope you’re pregnant.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh.

  “That doesn’t bother you?” he asked. Surprise edged his question.

  Amanda didn’t answer with words. Rising to her toes, she drew his mouth down to hers and tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his jeans. Her palms skated across his belly, then lower, and she popped the button on his jeans with a twist of her wrist.

  ****

  Josh cradled Amanda in the crook of his arm, trailing his fingertips over her bare shoulder. A hundred years could pass, and he’d never tire of making love to her. Her hand rested on his chest, and she rolled her fingers, making the diamond sparkle in the late afternoon light. He should have put that ring on her finger years ago. It looked so perfect there. The sense of pride that came with knowing she belonged to him eternally swelled his heart to three times its normal size.

  “Do you like it?” he asked in a low voice.

  “It’s gorgeous.” Like a cat waking from an afternoon nap, she stretched. She rolled over to prop her elbows on his chest and gaze down at him. “Olivia knew?”

  He nodded.

  “So those movie tickets were never intended for you and I?”

  Letting out a soft laugh, he shook his head. “Hell no, honey. Do you think I intended to propose and immediately go spend a few hours with everyone we know? I have to share you enough tonight.”

  With a false look of offense, she nipped his shoulder with her teeth. “What did you send Lucas up here for? To let him know too?”

  He slid his other ar
m around her waist and dipped both hands down to give her bottom a squeeze. “Not exactly. I think he had a pretty good idea when he saw the model. If he didn’t, he did when he opened his gift.”

  “What was it?” Nibbling her way across his shoulder, she pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck.

  “I didn’t have the time to put the same effort into his, as I did yours. But I drew him a sketch of my house in the city, and I put a sign on the front of it that read, Benning and McDaniels, Architecture and Development.”

  He waited for her to recognize the name of the firm Lucas and he had once envisioned. Her brows scrunched together with confusion, but slow dawning smoothed the wrinkles and lighted her eyes.

  “Wasn’t that—”

  “Yes.” He smiled.

  “But—”

  “I know. I asked him to think about it. He’d get better business in Kansas City, and I’m staying here with you.” He emphasized his statement with a quick kiss. “He didn’t answer one way or the other, and I didn’t expect him to. But I’m willing to give him my house, my secretary, and send some prominent work his way.”

  Amanda she traced her fingertips over his cheek. “Do you really want to stay in Lexington, Josh? We’ll go to Kansas City if you’re happier there.”

  He wound his arms around her tiny waist and squeezed tight. “Baby, this is Emma’s home. It’s your home. Unless you’re dying to get out of Lexington, I’m happy here. I’m happy with building our dream house out on Highway 13.”

  As he said it, he realized just how much he meant it. He didn’t want to go back to Kansas City. Everything he knew, understood, and ever wanted was right here, with the exception of his career. He could bring that here without problem. The rest of it didn’t come with his bungalow home in the heart of the city. It would never be there, either.

  Changing the subject, he tickled her side, chuckling when she squirmed. “You bought me two tickets to Rome in March. You’re going with me, right?”

  “Well,” she began, pausing as she rolled away and sank deeper under the guest bed’s comforter. “That depends.”

  Josh rose on one elbow and quizzed her with a frown. “On what? I want my fiancée there with me. Or maybe my wife—depending on when you decide we’re getting married.”

  “We’re getting married right after New Year’s,” she answered without hesitation. “As to Rome… Under my side of the bed, there’s a red box. I don’t suppose you’d get it for me?”

  “I’ll get it. It’s about time I got dressed anyway. That movie’s probably almost over.” Tugging on his boxers he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “New Year’s, huh? Afraid I might run off again?”

  He ducked as she tossed his pillow at him. It sailed harmlessly over his head and landed on the floor.

  “Just go get the box.”

  Still chuckling, he wandered across the hall to her room. On his hands and knees, he vowed not to explore the cavern beneath her bed too deeply, and lifted the bed skirt for a quick peek. The box sat in front, almost protruding beyond its curtain. He picked it up, tucked it under his arm, and returned to Amanda.

  Finding her dressed in her panties and his Henley, a sliver of disappointment rolled through him. He wanted to look at her some more, have the freedom to touch all he wanted in these precious moments they had completely alone. But a glance at the clock warned him Emma would be home soon, and sadly, he conceded, dressed was the smarter way to go.

  He retrieved the pillow from the floor, propped it against the headboard, and crawled back under the covers, beckoning her closer.

  Amanda scooted up against his side and tapped the top of the box. “This is the better Christmas present.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Better than Rome?”

  “Much,” she declared with an emphatic nod. “Open it. You look while I go get the other half of the gift.”

  To his consternation, she distanced herself completely and jogged back into the bedroom across the hall.

  Josh tore the paper off to pry open the lid on the wide, but narrow box. Inside, he discovered a photo album. Embossed in gold lettering across the front, she’d detailed his last name. With a fond smile, he opened the heavy cover, and stared down at a faded and worn ticket stub for the movie Message In A Bottle. Their first date. Good, Lord—she’d saved that?

  Thumbing through the pages, memories of their early years together rushed back at him. He could smell the funnel cake at the state fair, taste the beer at the Sammy Hagar concert, feel the sun on his back from their trip to the lake. Everything, everything they’d done together she chronicled.

  Homecoming King and Queen, Prom, Spring Break in New Orleans where they’d gotten in more trouble together than any teenagers should have. Looking at the photographs, he couldn’t help but wonder if they looked as happy now as they did back then, or had time given them even greater joy? God, she was every bit as beautiful now, if not more so, than she had been at eighteen.

  How had he been such a fool for so long?

  And the way she looked at him…Seeing that raw emotion captured forever in print hollowed out his gut. It was humbling. It was nothing short of a miracle he hadn’t killed all that.

  He turned to the last page and furrowed his brow. What was this? Pink and blue streamers, little stickers of baby bottles and rattles. Was this a wish for the future that mirrored his? No wonder his confession hadn’t upset her.

  A noise in the doorway drew his attention off the puzzling page. He looked up as she walked in, carrying a wrapped package the size of a shoebox. She set it in his lap and climbed into bed beside him.

  One tug on the loose ribbon end, and the bow pulled apart. He picked at the paper gently, unfolding it with care, and indeed found a shoebox beneath. Passing her the scrap paper, he took off the lid.

  Tissue paper hid something soft and yellow. But when he folded it back, his hands stilled. He stared down at an infant’s tiny suit embroidered with Tigger and Eeyore across the front.

  Stunned, he looked up at her, searching her expression for an answer.

  What he found in those mesmerizing blue eyes stuttered his heart. They glowed with happiness that made what he’d just seen in photographs small and insignificant. The slow smile that curved her soft lips stole his breath, leaving him unable to do anything but stare incredulously.

  After several suspended heartbeats, he swallowed to wet his dry throat. “How do you know, baby? It’s so…soon.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I just do.”

  His eyes widened as elation spread through his veins, heating his blood. Though it sounded impossible, like something out of a mystic’s prophecy, he believed her. “Oh, God,” he murmured in a hoarse voice. “Come here, honey.”

  She melted into his arms.

  Clearing his voice, he struggled to contain his overflowing emotion. He blinked once, to clear the mistiness from his eyes. Tucking his face into the crook of her neck, he inhaled sharply.

  Downstairs, the front door thudded open.

  Josh couldn’t move. He was too overcome to release Amanda.

  Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and Amanda shifted, but made no attempt to let go. She held on to him just as tightly. Her almost inaudible sniffle explained why.

  “Mommy?” Emma yelled in the hall.

  Amanda turned her head to the door. Still, she didn’t sidle away.

  Josh closed his eyes, praying for the strength to not cry in front of Emma.

  “In here, sweetie,” Amanda called out.

  Emma bounded into the room and crawled onto the bed without hesitation. Yet her voice held concern as she asked, “Mommy, are you okay?”

  “I’m perfect.”

  Amanda’s hold relaxed, and she edged backwards, but Josh tightened his arms, fastening her in place. He was too close to completely breaking down to turn her loose just yet.

  Everything he’d secretly dreamt of, she gave him in one fell swoop.


  He was holding his wife.

  His daughter sat on their bed.

  They were expecting another child.

  He was trembling, for Christ’s sake. And where he’d once shook with fear, he couldn’t find an ounce of that emotion anywhere.

  “Good,” Emma quipped. “Aunt Olivia said if you didn’t care I could call Josh Daddy now. Can I?”

  Amanda let out a light laugh as Josh’s heart twisted fiercely. “Yes, Emma, you may.”

  As Emma pounced on them, throwing her arms around them both with a delighted little cry, Josh’s floodgates failed. He snaked an arm out, pulled Emma into a sideways hug, and tucked his face a little deeper into Amanda’s shoulder as tears rolled down his cheeks.

  This was what Christmas was all about.

  Joy, family…and above all, love.

  About the Author

  Claire Ashgrove has been writing since her early teens and maintained the hobby for twenty years before deciding to leap into the professional world. Her first contemporary novel, Seduction's Stakes, sold to The Wild Rose Press in 2008, where she continues to write steamy, sexy stories for the Champagne and Black Rose lines. Adding to these critically acclaimed romances, Claire’s paranormal romance series, The Curse of the Templars debuted with Tor in January 2012. For those who prefer the more erotic side of romance, she also writes for Berkley Heat as the National Bestselling Author Tori St. Claire.

  She is an active member of Romance Writers of America, and her local RWA chapters, Heartland Romance Authors, Midwest Romance Writers, and North Texas Romance Writers of America.

  Claire lives in Missouri with her two toddler sons, and too-many horses, cats, and dogs. In her “free” time, she enjoys cooking, winning at Rummy, studying Ancient Civilizations, and spending quiet moments with her family, including the critters. She credits her success to her family's constant support and endless patience.

  To learn more about Claire, visit her on the web at www.claireashgrove.com, or www.toristclaire.com