The Princess and The Jester - A.D. McCammon Page 0,87

up. I’ve been lying in this bed trying to stay perfectly still and quiet for the past hour, listening to his even breathing.

Christmas is my favorite time of year. Even more so now that I get to spend them with Cole. We got our own place together in Nashville after graduation two years ago and started our own traditions. We stay with Lydia and Patrick on Christmas eve. On Christmas day, we eat breakfast and exchange gifts with them here at their place before heading over to spend the day with my parents. Things might need to change a little once we start a family of our own. But for now, it’s perfect.

Cole’s body is molded to mine, his arm draped around my waist. I wiggle to loosen his hold, struggling to roll over. He doesn’t stir from the movement, or as I sweep his messy blond hair from his face.

He looks so peaceful I almost hate to wake him.

“Cole?” I gently shake him, getting no response. “Cole, wake up. Santa came.”

He chuckles, glaring at me through one squinted eye. “You better be glad you’re so damn cute. It’s too early for this.”

We were up late last night talking with Arwen and Aidan. Those two are so ridiculously happy in California, both of them thriving in school. I think Arwen misses it here, though. She doesn’t like being so far away from her dad. Or from her new mother and brother.

Cole never even considered moving away from his mom. Which was fine with me. He got into a two-year culinary program in Nashville and graduated this past May. Patrick hired him as Head Chef at Brighton right after that.

I’m still in school, studying psychology and sociology at Vanderbilt. The plan is to get my doctorate and become a child psychologist.

“It’s never too early for Christmas,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his nose. “I want to get as much time in with your mom as we can.”

He smirks, both of his emerald eyes making an appearance as his arm tightens around me again. “You don’t need to worry about that. Everyone will be joining us at your parents’ tonight.”

My brow creases. “They are? Why?”

He slips the strap of my tank top down my shoulder, his fingertips caressing my skin in an extremely distracting manner. “Does there need to be a reason? I thought it’d be nice for everyone to be together.”

It will be nice to have everyone together. I love the idea. But it’s odd that he didn’t say anything about it until now. No one did. “When was this decided? And why didn’t anyone tell me?”

His lips land on my shoulder, delivering delicate kisses before he answers. “Because it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh…”

My stomach flutters. He has something special planned for today. I know it.

He brushes the hair away from my neck, his kisses hungrier now. My entire thought process is lost as he sucks and nibbles on my skin, my center already pulsing with need.

“You need to behave.” There’s no conviction behind my panted protest.

Lydia and Patrick are asleep on the other side of the house. They likely wouldn’t hear us. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time we went at it in this room. Cole made sure we christened it right after they told us it was ours.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he snickers, his breath dancing on my skin. “Don’t you want to open my Christmas package before we go downstairs?” He rolls me onto my back, pinning me to the bed as he straddles my hips.

“You didn’t seriously say that.” I giggle.

He winks and leans down, giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. “What?” he asks innocently. “All I’m saying is I want to stuff your stocking with my Yuletide log.”

My heart warms in my chest, and I huff out a laugh. He’s still the mischievous boy I fell for, fourteen years ago. “I love you, Cole Masterson.”

A big smile lights his face, and he dives back in, capturing my mouth with his. The kiss isn’t sweet or playful this time. This one is fueled with intense passion and deep love. The kind that sets my body on fire.

We won’t be making it downstairs anytime soon.

COLE

My heart has been racing since we arrived at Gwen’s parents’ place, the mixture of nerves and exhilaration making it impossible to relax. Dinner seemed to go on forever, and I couldn’t focus on any of the conversations going on around the table. The anticipation