Epilogue
DAMON
“Let’s decorate!” Rowan is practically vibrating with glee as he sits on the floor, surrounded by bags of Christmas decorations.
It’s the first of December: our second Christmas together and the first in our new home. We moved into the fabulous two-bedroom apartment four months ago. It has fantastic views, plenty of space for the two of us, and already feels like home.
Last year, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea of putting decorations up at all, let alone so early. Over a month of twinkling lights, and a Christmas tree getting in the way? No thanks.
This year is different. I’m with Rowan now, and his Christmas spirit is infectious.
He suggested we wait until Christmas Eve.
Perhaps the middle of December, but he was so excited about decorating together that I decided we couldn’t put it off.
This is his favourite time of the year, and I can’t deny him his joy.
I love him. It’s my job to make him happy, not clip his wings.
He quickly decided his decorations wouldn’t be enough for the whole apartment, especially not if we wanted a cohesive look.
So, we went shopping together and it was fun.
I hadn’t expected it to be. I’d anticipated hating the whole experience.
The shops have been playing Christmas music since Bonfire Night, for crying out loud!
I’m already sick of it. Yet, with Rowan by my side, I had fun.
We chose a colour scheme and decorations together, imagining how they would look in our apartment and figured out how big a tree we needed and where to put it.
I drew the line at dealing with pine needles, so we’ve got a fake tree we can reuse year after year. It’s pretty realistic.
“Are we going to the charity ball this year?” Rowan asks, while he opens a box of glass baubles.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” I sit beside him on the floor and open the following box.
He bounces his knees. “We should go! It’ll be fun!”
“It’s Nigel’s job to go.”
“Why, Daddy?”
I shrug. “It’s his business.”
Rowan laughs. “It’s your business, too. Last time I checked, you’re still a partner.” He nudges my knee with his. “You’re still my boss.”
An arrangement which has worked surprisingly well. It helps that Rowan spends most of his time driving Nigel around or running errands for him.
“I have costume ideas,” he says.
“You do?”
He grins and nods.
I sigh. “What ideas?”
He abandons the box of baubles and crawls onto my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. “You could go as the Ghost of Christmas Present.”
I purse my lips. “Not Scrooge?”
“Eh, you did that last year.”
“We didn’t get to the ball last year.”
He chuckles. “No, but I still got fucked by Scrooge, so been there and done that. Besides, I don’t think Scrooge fits you anymore. Do you?”
I stare at all the decorations we’ve bought. “No, probably not. Although I still don’t love Christmas.”
“Yet, Daddy.” He flutters his lashes.
I sigh. I have a feeling that, someday soon, Christmas is going to be my favourite time of the year, too. Or as close to it as it’ll ever get. “What would you go as? One of the other ghosts? Bob Cratchet? Tiny Tim?”
“No! I’d go as the ghost of a Christmas present.”
“The, what now?”
“The ghost of a Christmas present! My wrapping paper would be all faded, like a ghost, and I’d wear a label that says ‘boo!’. We’d be a perfect matching pair.”
I can’t help but laugh. His idea is both ridiculous and ingenious.
“So, are we going, Daddy?”
How can I refuse him? “Only if Nigel doesn’t want to.”
“Bet he jets off again this year.”
“He’d better not.” I soften my voice and say, “Not without warning, anyway.”
“Oh, but Daddy, we get to have more fun while Nigel is away.” He shifts so he’s straddling me, and gently pushes me until I’m lying on the floor, surrounded by decorations. He leans down and kisses me. “Like sex in the storeroom.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re serious, boy?”
“Hmm, maybe. Maybe not.” He gets off me and opens the long box containing the tree. “Help me put this together, please, Daddy. We should decide where the tree is going first.”
I sit, catch hold of him, and pull him backwards onto my lap. “You cannot put that thought into my head and then start decorating.”
“Why not, Daddy?” he asks in a butter-wouldn’t-melt voice.
“Because you’re turning me on, boy,” I whisper into his ear.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, but I’d like to do something about it.”
He half-turns, embraces, and kisses me. “Before or after we decorate, Daddy?”
I release an exasperated grunt. “After.”
He grins. “Help me with the tree?”
Together, we put up all the decorations, starting with the tree and ending with a sprig of mistletoe above the front door. By the time we’re done, our apartment is a twinkling wonderland.
Rowan wraps his arms around my waist as we stand under the mistletoe, surveying our handiwork. “What do you think?”
“It’s a lot.” More decorations than I ever imagined putting up.
“Too much?”
But they’re pretty and cheerful and damn it, I can’t help it, they make me smile. It’s like the decorations are a manifestation of Rowan’s personality: sunshine and rainbows.
“No, not too much. They’re wonderful.”
“Huh, does that mean I can get away with more next year?”
I turn and embrace him firmly. “No.” I kiss the tip of his nose. “This amount is just right.”
“Not too little?”
I shake my head.
“Not too much?”
“It’s close, but not quite.”
He grins. “The perfect amount?”
“Goldilocks would be proud of us.”
Rowan sniggers.
“We’ve been together a year.”
“Not quite. You’re three weeks out.”
I hold him tightly against me. “Close enough, boy.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I stare into his eyes. “I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
He tilts his head, his eyes sparkling. “Good thing I’m here to stay, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I kiss him softly. “How do you feel about a Christmas wedding?”
He gasps.
“Next year,” I clarify, because there isn’t time to plan a wedding for this Christmas.
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Yes. Would you rather I go down on one knee?”
“No. I don’t need you to do that.” He glances up at the mistletoe, a clear invitation for me to kiss him again.
I do so, taking the time to savour his lips and tongue.
“A Christmas wedding sounds perfect, Daddy.”
“We could go somewhere we’re guaranteed snow.”
“Staying here would make it easier for our friends and family to come. As much as I love the snow, I’d rather be surrounded by the people we love. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.” I kiss him fiercely. “I love you, boy.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
“Now can we go to the bedroom?”
“To start a new Christmas tradition?”
I frown. “What tradition?”
“Post putting the decorations up love making.”
I chuckle. “That would be a perfect tradition to start, boy.”