“Merry Christmas, baby.”
We spend hours on the beach picking at the food that wasn’t eaten last night. It might be far from the lavish Christmas meals of my past, but right now, it’s beyond perfect.
Jake had packed a bottle of champagne that my gran had given us to celebrate our new home and after popping the top, he poured us each a mug—he didn’t think I’d approve of him packing our wine glasses—and we toasted to our future.
It was perfect, but as the afternoon went on, I was getting more and more impatient to give him his present. We had said that we wouldn’t do any. With the house move and school keeping us busy the past few months, it seemed like a stress we didn’t need. Of course, though, I went against my own rules and got him something. I just couldn’t help myself.
“We should probably head back,” I say, seeing how he feels about it.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
“This has been perfect, but I’ve got something at home that I want to give you,” I admit with a wince.
“Brit,” he warns. “We said no presents.”
Guilt consumes me because I know it bothers him that he’s not got the same kind of money I have to spoil me in the way I’m sure he wants to.
“It’s nothing expensive,” I say, trying to defend myself.
Cupping my cheek in his hand, he turns me to look at him. “Well, then it’s a good thing I ignored you and got you something too, isn’t it?”
I smile at him. “Rulebreaker.”
“I thought that was why you loved me.”
“It’s part of it.”
He raises a brow.
“Your cock is the rest.”
“You sassy little…” He tackles me to the ground and tickles my sides until I’m squealing.
By the time he lets up, I’ve got tears streaming down my cheeks, but this time, it’s not from sad tears.
“Come on then,” he says, his own chest heaving as he holds his hand out for me. “If you’re really lucky, I’ll let you have some one-on-one time later with the part of me that you really love.” He grabs his junk with his spare hand, his signature smirk firmly in place.
We make quick work of tidying everything up, stacking it all back into my little car and heading home.
Nerves begin to flutter in my belly as we get closer. I’m confident he’ll like his present, but it doesn’t stop me from being nervous about him seeing it for the first time.
“Leave all of this,” he says to me when I begin putting everything away. He laces his fingers through mine and leads me from the room.
As we walk through to the living room, I spot a wrapped present sitting on the coffee table.
A little excitement about what today should hold trickles in at the sight.
He tries to pull me toward the sofa but I resist, instead going for the cupboard under the stairs and pulling out my own wrapped box.
“How the hell did you sneak that in without me noticing?”
“I have my ways.” I wink at him. “You go first.”
I place the box on the table beside his and fall down next to him.
“Okay.” Leaning forward, he rips the paper off then opens the box. His brows draw together as he tries to figure it out before he pulls the canvases out and gasps. “Holy shit, that’s me.”
I watch him as he arranges the set of five canvases on the floor and stands back. Each one is a cropped image of him playing.
“Did you take these?”
“I did,” I state.
I’d been fighting with my need to pull out my camera since I first moved here. Then came the night Jake got his team to the finals, and I knew the event needed documenting in some way, so I dusted it off and threw the strap over my shoulder.
I didn’t tell him I’d done it because I knew the second I took some of the action shots that I needed to do something with them. We were in the process of buying this place by then and I knew how he felt about it being ‘my house’. I wanted something to prove to him that it’s not my home, it’s our home. It doesn’t matter that I funded it. We’re a couple and I intend on doing everything together from now on.
“Amalie, they’re incredible.” He looks back over at me and I can’t help but stand beside him.
“They’re from your final game. I thought we could put them up there.” I nod my head at the wall behind the other sofa.
“You want them on your walls?”
I sigh, this is the exact reason I did this. “I want them on our walls, Jake. And I want you to always remember that epic night.”
Spinning me to look at him, his eyes skim over every inch of my face before he shakes his head.
“Will you ever stop amazing me?”
“I sure hope not,” I say with a laugh.
“You want yours now?” he asks nervously.
“Yes.”
We drop back to the sofa and he passes it over.
“It’s not much, it’s more sentimental really but—”
“Stop. I’m sure it’s perfect.”
I rip into it to find two photo albums.
“This one first.”
Flipping the cover open, I gasp when I stare down at a photo I’ve seen time and time again. Mum had it framed on her bedside table. It’s from the night of her and Dad’s first date. Tears immediately fill my eyes, and I reach out for Jake’s hand as I turn the pages.
Documented before me is my mom and dad’s life together from the night they started going out, through to their wedding, having me, and almost right up until the day I lost them.
“H-how did you do all this?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion.
“I found the box they were all in when we were moving and asked your gran for help.”
“Jake, it’s… it’s unbelievable.”
“Now this one.” He pulls the second album out and places it on the top.
Opening it, I find the very first photo of the two of us that we took together a few months ago, followed by a few more.
“I thought we could start our own. One day we can add photos of our wedding and our kids.”
“Oh my god. Jake Thorn, what are you doing to me?” I sob, my heart so full of everything I feel for him that I swear it’s about to explode. “I love you so much.”
I fall into his arms when he opens them for me and with his lips pressed against my hair, I hear, “I love you too, Brit. I just wanted today to be one you’d remember for all the right reasons. Merry Christmas, baby.”
First Christmas is a short story from my Rosewood High series.