“Every Christmas, for the past twenty-three years, I thought of a little girl who stole my heart,” he told me. “Each year, I saw that baby girl in my mind and tried to imagine what she looked like as the years passed. I wondered what she had done with herself, if she was happy, if she was ever told about the boy who fell head over heels for her and never forgot her.”
Motherfucker. He was going to make me ugly cry if he continued like this.
His hands cradled my face, and he bent forward to fleetingly press his lips to mine. “Findin’ you again, Kenna…you’re the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
I dragged in a heavy breath. My lungs felt airless despite my inhalation. Chest muscles were tightening around my ribs, my heart, as I tried desperately not to cry.
“Every day, I get to spend with you is just one more gift I’m eternally grateful for. Every minute is precious to me. What you share with me is more than I ever deserved and somethin’ I treasure. I will spend the rest of my life attemptin’ to earn everythin’ you’ve given me, but it’s so priceless.”
“Phil,” I whispered, a sob gently catching in my chest.
He lifted the blindfold from my eyes, blasting me with an outpouring of emotion from his.
“We have a lifetime of Christmases to spend with family and friends. I wanted this first one just for us. I know it ain’t—”
He didn’t get to finish because I attacked his mouth with mine, kissing him hard and deep, just wanting to absorb him into me. He moaned and hauled me to him, pressing our bodies together.
“I love you,” I told him. “I love you so much, Phil.”
A hand came up to touch my face, and he pressed his Third Eye to mine. “I love you, too. More than it should be possible to love anythin’.”
He pulled back, and my vision dazzled.
Phil had decorated the whole damn house! Twinkling stings of white lights ran along the ceiling and archways, twined with evergreen tinsel, silver and gold stars dangled from the ceilings. Bunches of mistletoe hung sporadically. There was even a fat little evergreen tree in a pot, brightly wrapped presents sitting beneath its squat little boughs. On the large dining room table we never used was a white fluffy cloth, and my mother’s old Christmas village had been set up with its working train set.
My hands covered my mouth, and I could feel how huge my eyes had widened.
“Connor told me you haven’t decorated since your mom passed,” Phil said quietly. “He showed me where the village was in the attic. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. It was all I could do to breathe. Swallowing hard, I sucked in a breath. “It’s wonderful!”
Phil pulled me into his arms once more, just holding me, resting his cheek upon the top of my head. I could feel him siphoning the urge to cry from me, absorbing it into himself, exhaling it with happiness into my hair. We stood like that for a few more minutes before he stirred.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving!” I laughed.
My laughter infected him, and he chuckled.
“Come on. I made dinner.”
“Are you serious?” I snorted. “Will it be safe to eat?”
He scowled at me, but his lips twitched, and he couldn’t help the grin. “I had help, you little shit.”
Phil pulled me into the kitchen where a fondue set I recognized as Mama Sally’s was placed in the center of the island. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a BIC and lit the burner beneath.
“First course is cheese.” He poked a spoon into what looked like a cheddar blend. “Mama Sally helped me make it. She said you always start with cheese.” Turning toward the fridge, he said, “I thought you and I could exchange our gifts tonight. We’ll be gettin’ shit from everyone else tomorrow—”
I turned and hurried for the stairs. Hell yes, I wanted to give him his presents tonight! Pounding up the steps, I raced to my room.
“Kenna!” he shouted. “Wait!” He tore up the steps after me.
But it was too late. I had opened my bedroom door, and I was standing there with my jaw dropped and eyes wide.
“Fuck, you’re fast!” he snapped.
My four-poster had heavy green velvet hangings, more evergreen tinsel and twinkling white lights wound around the posts, interspersed with bunches of mistletoe. The bedspread was red satin