“After you came home, you and Del disappeared into our room for a bit and then came out here to watch Christmas Vacation. You both lasted until the tree was strapped to the sedan and then passed out. I thought it best to leave you be.”
“Fucking Del.”
“I take it you guys had a fun afternoon?” Chance—thankfully—whispers.
“I guess. Our day lasted until lunch with Damon; I don’t recall much after the fifth vodka martini.”
“Well I’m glad he was there to drive you guys home. Neither of you could stand on your own when you got here.” He chuckles.
“Would you two shut the hell up?” Del growls from beneath the blanket covering her head.
“This is all your fault,” I accuse as I rip the blanket from her. If I have to suffer then so does she.
“My fault?” Del’s head pops up from the couch and her copper hair—this week’s color—is sticking up in all directions. I lift my hand to cover my mouth, laughing at how ridiculous my bestie looks right now. Her narrow-eyed stare at my sniggering would be more convincing if she didn’t look comically like Sideshow Bob from the Simpsons. “You were the one who suggested a liquid lunch.”
Shaking my head to disagree as my laughter dies down, I say, “No. I said a liquid lunch would make shopping more fun. You were the one who asked Damon to DD so we could test the theory.”
“Same difference,” she grumbles.
“You two are insane,” Chance says through his laughter. “Can I interest you both in coffee and breakfast?”
“Yes, please,” we say simultaneously, forgoing our argument in favor of caffeine and bacon.
“Why don’t you two freshen up and I’ll get breakfast started?”
We both nod before standing and making our way down the hall to our respective bathrooms.
Emptying my bladder and brushing my teeth, followed by fifteen minutes under the hot spray of the shower, has me feeling marginally like a functioning human again. Opening the door to our bedroom, I slide on my If You Jingle My Bells, I’ll Give You a White Christmas shirt over my bare chest and black joggers and pad barefooted out to the kitchen.
As I come around the corner, the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills my nose. Ahhh…heaven. Del is sitting at the island, propped daintily on the barstool, her short legs crossed one over the other as she sips from her mug. I bypass Del and Chance, who is flipping French toast at the stove, and reach to fill my own mug with coffee.
I doctor the nectar of the gods and take a sip, moaning as the warm liquid hits my taste buds before turning around to be social again.
“Keep making those noises while wearing that shirt and I will not be responsible for what Del does or does not witness in this kitchen,” Chance threatens in a husky tone.
I lift my eyebrow, smirking behind my mug in a silent dare.
Chance’s teasing grin transforms into one of pure heat, his nostrils flaring, and his pupils widening as he runs his gaze up and down my body. I can practically feel his focus like a physical caress along every inch of my skin, making me feel exposed and aroused in the very best way.
“Fuck no. Stop that shit right now.” Del interrupts our blatant eye fucking.
Chance smiles knowingly at how easily that could have turned into Del’s own live porn show. Rather than stepping away, he reaches for me and takes my lips in a heated kiss that rivals the flames under the pan.
“If you burn my breakfast, I will be extremely pissed,” Del huffs behind us.
Our kiss breaks apart, but only enough to give space to laughter dancing between our lips. I peck him gently once more before stepping back and blinking innocently at Del. “We would never.”
She just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling on her phone and sipping her coffee.
“Breakfast will be done in a minute,” Chance says as he brings his attention back to the perfectly browned bread in the pan.
Moving around the counter, I jump on the vacant stool next to Del, bumping her shoulder with my own. “Hey,” I whisper.
She turns to raise her eyebrow in question, her eyes tracking from me to Chance, who has his back turned.
“Do you think he saw what we brought home?”
She shakes her head. “I hid it in our secret spot while he was in the guest room.” Her quiet tone matches mine.
Unbeknownst to Chance, Del and I discovered a hideaway spot within the floorboards of the sunroom shortly after Aunt Dee passed. I’ve never needed to use it for anything until recently when Del suggested it as the perfect place to hide my gift for Chance.
He’s done so much for me, given me a future worth fighting for, and I wanted to do something extra special for him. Sure, I have quite a few things to wrap and give him to open for Christmas, but the main gift, the big one, will basically be my heart strung up with ribbon and wrapped in a bow.
I took lyrics from all the songs off the mixtape he proposed to me with and incorporated them into a painting of us. The painting is a huge canvas covered in oil paint, a play off the first one he ever saw in my office with some changes.
A mix of abstract lines and lyrics create the appearance of two bodies wrapped around a bleeding anatomical heart that has been stitched back together. It depicts us in so many forms. After weeks of going back and forth on what to get Chance for Christmas, I decided to do what I do best. I sat at my drafting table to sketch and let my mind clear to find an answer.
When I looked down at what my hands had spoken for my soul, I knew instantly.
I just hope he loves it as much as I do.
The smaller bag Del was trying to hide from him when we got home was just another watch. A small trinket to distract him while we moved the huge framed canvas into the house and hid it in the sunroom.
My wariness must be showing on my face, my nerves always come out when I think about my art and others’ reactions to it, because Del smacks my arm to get my attention. “Get that look off your face, he’s going to think something’s wrong.”
I quickly school my features to avoid him asking any questions. The absolute last thing I want to do is spoil his surprise.
Apparently Del and I failed epically at exhibiting cool, calm, and collected as Chance turns around with plates of food and eyes us in suspicion. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Nothing,” I respond a little too enthusiastically.
Del kicks my leg away from his view. “Be cool,” she whispers angrily.
His look of skepticism speaks volumes as he silently walks to the island and slides two plates overflowing with bacon, eggs, and French toast in front of us. “Eat up.” Thankfully he doesn’t ask anything more as we both lift our forks and shovel food in our mouths before we can say anything else.
I worked too damn hard on his gift and I’ll be damned if I spill the tea before he can unwrap it. Here’s hoping I can find a way to distract him for another few days.
Chapter Five
Placing the finishing touches on the trays I’ve set out along the island, I take a deep breath and survey the house.
The lights are dimmed slightly, allowing our tree in the corner of the living room to shine brightly, surrounded by an assortment of colorfully wrapped gift boxes and bags. The kitchen counters are—finally—clean and laid out with a hot cocoa bar, an assortment of snacks, and festive decorations. All of the food for dinner is warming in the oven and the entire place smells like Christmas: pine, cinnamon, and a hint of orange.