“Looks like there’s a note right there.” Constance pointed to the tag, which had fallen off as my daughter had ripped everything to shreds.
She picked it up, squinted, and read. “Merry Christmas, Claire. Love you so much. Mom.” She dropped the note and immediately went back to her new prized possessions, a happy kid on Christmas morning.
I looked at Constance and conveyed everything that I wanted to say with a look.
She finally met my eyes, sadness in her gaze, like her ploy wasn’t enough to drive away the sorrow. She felt for my daughter the way I did, like we really were two players on the same team.
My hand went to her thigh, and I leaned in close. My fingers squeezed her pajama-clad leg as I let my face hang there close to hers, seeing the way her breathing picked up with my proximity. Then I leaned in and kissed her—not caring if Claire saw.
Nine
Constance
We spent the day watching Christmas movies while Claire played with her toys on the floor. Clothes seemed to be the least important thing to her because she didn’t touch them, not even the new pajama set I’d bought her. Everything Benton had asked me to get seemed to be her favorites, and it made me happy to know that he knew her better than anyone.
Benton had pulled me close on the couch, his arm around my shoulders as he let me cuddle with him under the blanket. Sometimes I dozed off, sleeping on this rock-hard man like he was the softest pillow in the world.
When the doorbell rang, I gave a jerk.
“Who’s that, Daddy?” Claire asked.
“Uncle Bleu.” He left me behind on the couch and went to the front door.
The guys returned a moment later, his brother carrying a couple presents. “Where’s my favorite niece?”
“Right here!” Claire ran right up, but instead of giving him a hug, she just took the presents and sat on the floor.
Bleu took it in stride and gave a laugh. “Merry Christmas, Claire.” He took a seat on the armchair while she ripped everything apart, giving yells of delight when she found things she liked. He was in a dark coat with dark jeans, looking like his brother in several ways, but distinctly different with his own features.
Benton handed him a mug of hot cocoa.
Bleu took a look at the marshmallows floating on top before he gave a grimace in disappointment.
Benton chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just try it.”
He brought it to his lips and took a drink. At first, there was a cringe, but then he took another sip. “Hmm…not bad.”
Benton returned to the couch beside me, his hand absentmindedly going to my thigh as he watched his daughter open presents from her uncle.
Bleu noticed too and gave a smirk.
Claire made a brand-new mess on the floor, full of boxes and wrapping paper, her gifts the only things that survived the massacre. She squeezed the soft teddy bear to her chest. “Thank you, Uncle Bleu.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” With his mug in his hands, he watched Claire play with her things, just the way her father had watched over her earlier that morning. “Miss school?”
She gave a dramatic shake of her head.
He chuckled. “I didn’t care for school either.”
“I just love Christmas,” Claire said. “I don’t want it to end…”
“Well, there’s always next year.”
She lifted her head, as if a thought popped into her mind. “We made cookies. You want one?”
“Um, I’m not a big fan of sweets.” He rubbed his stomach as he gave a shake of his head.
“Come on, Uncle Bleu.” She ran into the kitchen to get more from the cookie jar. “We made them ourselves.” She returned with a handful, some of Benton’s dark cookies and the rest the bright, cheerful ones she and I’d made together.
He cracked under peer pressure and ate one. “Wow, you’re right…they’re good.”
She waved her finger at him. “Told you.” She dropped back onto the floor to her toys again.
I looked at Benton’s brother. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“No thanks.” He shook his head. “Got plans.”
“What kind of plans?” Benton asked.
He gave a shrug. “A date.”
“On Christmas?” Benton asked.
Bleu gave him a staredown that told him not to ask questions.
Benton gave a slow nod, like he got the message. “Have fun with that.”
“Oh, I will.” Bleu smirked then took a drink of his cocoa. “No work for you?”
“There’s always work, but I’m not going.” Benton watched his daughter, his only focus.
“Bartholomew was cool with that?” he asked.
“I don’t care what he’s cool with,” Benton said. “I do what I want—when I want.”
Claire knocked out pretty early, probably because of all the excitement of the day. She put on the new pajamas I’d given her, so I guess she did like them after all. Once she was tucked in for the night and the house was cleaned up, we went to bed.
I could feel his mood like an oven. It turned on and slowly filled the room with heat, getting warmer and warmer. He was a man of few words but very palpable energy. He sat on the edge of the bed in just his sweatpants, his bare feet on the rug, his powerful physique hard and straight. His arms rested on his knees, and his hands came together between his thighs.
My fingers slid across one shoulder, the enormous hunk of muscle, and then to the back of his neck. My fingers lightly grazed through his short hair, and that jolt of electricity was instant, shocking me down to my toes.
He kept his head down, lost in thought, his mood bitter.
I broke his hands apart and lowered myself to my knees between his, meeting his stare now that I was where his eyes had been a moment before. My hands gripped his thighs and slowly moved up, gliding over the fabric of his sweatpants, toward the hard lines of his stomach.
His eyes remained on mine and didn’t react to my touch.
“Are you mad at me about the gift?”
He didn’t give any kind of reaction, but his answer was still apparent.
“I should have asked you first, but…I didn’t want to bring it up.”
“You did the right thing. I should have thought of it myself.”
“You’ve got a lot going on right now.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m a father first.”
“Well, don’t forget you have me too. You don’t have to be responsible for everything.”
His eyes stared into mine, deep and blue, beautiful like the rest of him. The look used to be unnerving, but now, it was my happy place, a place I could get lost in for hours. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to us—both of us. I’m just sorry for the way it came about.” He dropped his gaze, probably thinking about the same thing I was thinking.
“It was worth it.”
His eyes flicked back up to mine.
“I would do it all over again…”
The stare continued, deep and hard, like he saw me in a whole new light. “I’ll kill him. I don’t know when…but I will. I promise you.”