THE NIGHTS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

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THE NIGHTS BEFORE CHRISTMAS Page 19

by Vicky Lewis Thompson


  He gazed at her in wonder. "Absolutely. The sooner the better." He leaned down and feathered her lips with his. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

  "Oh!" She looked suddenly stricken. "I didn't get you anything."

  He grinned. "Oh, I think you did." He slipped his hand under her sweatshirt. "And I can hardly wait to unwrap what you're going to give me."

  * * *

  Epilogue

  «^

  A year later

  Suzanne cuddled next to Greg on the sofa and gazed at the crackling fire while Christmas carols played softly in the background. "I feel sort of selfish, stealing away up here for Christmas instead of spending it with our families," she said.

  Greg pulled her closer. "Too late. It's snowing like crazy and the roads would be dangerous, so we can't leave even if we wanted to."

  "And Matilda. Don't you feel guilty leaving her for a week?"

  "Ha. I swear that cat had something to do with picking out our new apartment. She must have known there was a cat lover right next door. Personally. I think Matilda can hardly wait for us to skip town."

  "Mrs. Tuttle does spoil her rotten. She's getting fat." Suzanne nestled her head against Greg's shoulder and enjoyed the mingled scents of the Christmas tree and the fire. "Okay, you've convinced me that we need to be here, after all. It might be our last chance to be alone on Christmas, anyway." She glanced at him to see if he'd picked up on her hint.

  Apparently he'd missed it. "Probably not," he said. "But you don't buy a cottage in Wisconsin unless you're going to use it. That's wasteful. Besides, we'll please them all next Christmas. This year we deserve to please ourselves."

  She drew back far enough to look into his eyes. "You'll have to speak for yourself, but as for me, I've been extremely pleased."

  He looked proud of himself. "You like the flavored body paints Santa brought you?"

  "I do. I think I should have been an art major."

  He grinned. "Me, too. In fact, maybe we should see how they work while we're lying naked in front of the fire."

  "Sounds good." She looked into his eyes, her heart bursting with the Christmas secret she'd been saving until now. She'd decided to reveal it at exactly the same time that she'd proposed and he'd accepted, one year ago. Her sense of drama had sharpened considerably in Greg's company.

  His grin widened. "You're up to something."

  "Yes." She felt giddy with happiness. "Do you realize it was exactly this time of night last year that I called you up to my apartment to fix the pipe I'd smashed?"

  He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of their little cottage. "Yeah, I guess it was."

  "Well, I have one more present to give you."

  His eyes glowed with interest. "Does this require stripping down? I love presents that require stripping down."

  "Actually, no. We can strip down later. For now, I just want you to sit there while I go get it."

  "Aha. You're going to strip down and come out in one of those sexy outfits you've been collecting."

  "No, not exactly." She left the sofa, unable to stand the suspense another minute. "Now stay right there." Hurrying into the bedroom, she undressed quickly and pulled on the new outfit she'd bought a week ago. Then she paraded out and stood in front of him.

  He looked confused. "Honey, you'd look sexy in a gunnysack, but I have to tell you, that's what that jumper looks like. It's a nice color, but it doesn't fit you very well."

  "It will." She waited for him to figure it out.

  "It will?" He frowned. Then, slowly, his frown disappeared and a Look of wonder took its place. "It will?"

  She nodded.

  "Omigod." He leaped up and swept her into a bear hug. "Omigod, omigod!"

  She couldn't stop laughing. "Do you like your present?"

  He looked down at her, his eyes bright. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I love my present."

  "That's good, because you know who's going to be taking care of the little tyke when I'm at the office."

  He ran his fingers through her hair. "I can hardly wait." Then he rested his hand against her belly. "Really?"

  "Really. I've been dying to tell you, but I wanted to make it part of our first Christmas together. Merry Christmas, my love."

  He held her close and cupped her face in one hand. His voice was husky. "A moment ago, when we were snuggling on the sofa, I thought my life couldn't be more perfect. I was wrong. Now it's perfect."

  She wound her arms around his neck. "But it really will be the last Christmas we'll be alone for a long, long time."

  "Then we'd better make the most of it. Actually, I have one more present for you, too." He reached into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt and pulled out a plastic sprig of mistletoe. "Remember this?"

  "You saved it all this time?"

  "Yeah." He smiled. "I've been keeping it in my toolbox, sort of like a lucky charm, but I decided to bring it up here this week." He brushed it over her nose. "On the chance that you'd like to get mistletoed."

  She gazed up at him and the magic began again, as it always did when she was in his arms. As it always would. She smiled at him, her heart full, while her favorite "Carol of the Bells" began to play. She took it as a sign.

  "Mistletoe me," she whispered.

  * * * *

 

 

 


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