Chapter 8 Sixty Christmases
Sixty Christmases
Enrick
The afternoon passed in a rush of adrenaline and want. By the time we returned from the snowmobile rides, Gina had dinner ready and the kids were starving.
I could still feel Desiree pressed against me, the tremor that ran through her body when she came. The memory of her taste was seared into my brain, and sitting across from her at the table tested every ounce of my self-control.
Every time Desiree reached for her water glass, I remembered those fingers in my mouth. Whenever she smiled at something Bella said, I saw the same lips that had wrapped around my fingers in that clearing. She caught me staring once, and the hunger in her eyes told me she was thinking about it too.
Now the foyer feels too quiet. Upstairs, Gina and Desiree are getting the younger kids ready for bed, while Maverick cleans the kitchen and dining room.
“Thanks for dinner.” Margot adjusts her helmet under her arm. “Gina outdid herself as always.”
“You know you’re always welcome. Plus, it was a fair trade for letting the kids to ride your snowmobile.”
Margot glances toward the staircase, then steps closer. “I thought someday you and I would—”
She stops abruptly, color flooding her cheeks. The words hang unfinished between us, but their meaning crashes over me.
I stare at her, stunned. The air feels too thin, like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“Desiree’s different than I expected,” Margot continues quickly, her voice steadier now but her eyes bright. “The way you look at her...” She shakes her head, and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve been waiting years for you to look at me like that.”
I never suspected her interest in me. And the guilt compounds—because even as Margot’s talking, I can’t seem to focus on anything except getting back upstairs to Desiree.
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
“Don’t.” She holds up a hand. “Whatever you’re about to say, just... don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. We’re good, Rick. We’ll always be good.”
But we both know it’s not true. Not anymore. I can’t unknow this.
“Margot—”
“Enrick.” Jake appears from the powder room off the foyer. “Happy holidays, man. I’ll see you at the office in a few days.”
Jake’s one of the lead engineers on my team. Brilliant with structural design, less brilliant with reading a room.
“I won’t be in until after Bella and Desiree head back to Atlanta.”
“Understood. Family first,” Jake says, pulling on his beanie and then helmet.
“Family first,” Margot echoes quietly. She pulls on her helmet with quick movements. “Tell Gina thanks again for dinner.”
She’s out the door before I can respond, Jake following. I watch through the window as they mount their snowmobiles, engines cutting through the evening quiet. Margot doesn’t look back as they disappear into the trees, leaving only tracks in the fresh snow.
I stand there watching until the sound of their engines fades completely. My reflection stares back at me from the dark glass.
Sixteen years of Tuesday lunches and emergency phone calls and her being the first person I told about Bella. How did I miss this? How did I not see what was right in front of me?
I never meant to hurt her. Never meant to let her hope for something I couldn’t give.
“You’re going to burn a hole in the window,” Maverick observes from behind me. “And hiding out here won’t save you from helping me clean up.”
I turn away from the glass. “Margot just confessed she has feelings for me.”
“Well, shit.”
“That’s helpful, thanks.”
“What do you want me to say? Sorry your best friend’s been in love with you and you were too dense to notice’?” He leans against the doorframe, dishtowel in hand. “Actually, how the hell did you not notice? Gina clocked it within five minutes of meeting her.”
The words land like a punch. “What?”
“Oh yeah.” Maverick’s expression is somewhere between amused and pitying. “First time Margot came by the house, Gina pulled me aside and asked how long you two had been together. I had to explain you were just friends.”
I think back to Desiree’s questions in the kitchen, the jealousy I’d found so endearing. “Desiree saw it too. She asked me point-blank if there was anything between us.”
“And?”
“I told her the truth.” I drag a hand through my hair. “That Margot’s like a sister to me.”
“Except Margot didn’t see it that way.”
“No.”
We stand in silence for a moment. Upstairs, I can hear Bella’s voice bright with questions, and Desiree’s softer responses. The sounds of the life I’m building, the family I’m fighting for.
“So what are you going to do?” Maverick finally asks.
“There’s nothing to do except be present for my family.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m going to make this Christmas unforgettable for my daughter and the woman I love. I want to set the tone for what the next sixty Christmases will look like for us.”
“Look at you, all decisive and shit.” He clasps my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, bro. Mom and dad would be too.”
“Thanks.”
“But you’re not going anywhere until you help me finish the kitchen.” He tosses the dishtowel at my chest. “Those pots aren’t going to scrub themselves.”
I catch it reflexively, and I laugh. “You’re an asshole.”
By the time we finish in the kitchen, everyone has gathered in the living room. The room glows with candlelight and the soft twinkle of Christmas tree lights.
Desiree changed into soft pajama pants and a fitted long-sleeve shirt. When I settle onto the couch beside her, I catch the scent of her orange-blossom moisturizer.
“Finally,” Penny says from her spot on the floor. “Uncle takes forever to wash dishes.”
“Quality work takes time,” I defend.
Bella scrambles up from the floor and wedges herself between us. “Daddy, sit closer to Mommy so I fit better.”
Desiree leans into the contact as I shift closer, eliminating the small space between us. Our bodies align from shoulder to knee.
Bella wiggles contentedly between us, and when Desiree’s hand finds mine behind Bella’s back, I lace our fingers together. Her thumb strokes across my knuckles, and I know she’s thinking about tonight too.
“Alright, everyone settled?” Maverick asks from his armchair, Gina perched on the arm beside him. He holds an old leather Bible our mother used to read from every Christmas Eve.
“Can we have hot chocolate during the story?” Asher asks hopefully.
“You had two mugs after dinner,” Gina reminds him.
“But I want more!”
“The story first, then we’ll see,” Maverick says, which I know means ‘definitely not.’
Mycah rolls his eyes from his spot on the other couch. “Just read already, Mr. Maverick.”
“Patience,” Maverick says mildly, finding his place. “This is important.”
Isa climbs into Gina’s lap, thumb in her mouth, while Penny braids her hair absently. The room settles into expectant quiet.
“In those days,” Maverick begins, his deep voice filling the room, “Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world...”
I’ve heard this story every Christmas of my life, but tonight it hits differently. Joseph protecting Mary, making sure she had shelter, keeping his family safe despite impossible circumstances. The shepherds — ordinary men given extraordinary news. The wise men, following a star on faith alone.
Bella leans against my arm, her eyes wide as Maverick describes the angels appearing to the shepherds. Desiree’s watching Maverick, but a small smile plays at her lips—the same smile she gave me right before she tasted herself on my fingers.
My dick twitches at the memory. Completely inappropriate for the moment, but I can’t help it. Can’t separate the sacred from the profane when it comes to her. Both feel like worship.
This is what I dreamed of for the past five years. Not just having Bella for Christmas, but having them both. Having Desiree’s warmth beside me, Bella safe between us, the three of us existing in the same space.
“And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen,” Maverick concludes, closing the Bible.
“Is that why we have Christmas?” Bella asks. “Because baby Jesus was born?”
“That’s right, B,” Desiree says.
“And because of presents,” Asher adds practically.
“Asher,” Gina scolds, but she’s smiling.
“It’s true!” Mycah supported.
“Time for bed,” Maverick announces, setting the Bible aside. “Santa doesn’t visit children who are still awake.”
“I’m not tired!” Isa protests even as she yawns.
“Me either,” Bella says, but she’s already drooping against my side.
The kids scatter to brush teeth and gather their stuffed animals, the older ones herding the younger ones upstairs. Desiree and I follow Bella, who insists on walking despite stumbling over her own feet.
In her room, Desiree pulls back the covers while I help Bella with her slippers, both of us tucking the blankets around her small form.
“Santa knows we’re all together now, right?” Bella asks sleepily, her eyes already half-closed. “He knows to bring presents here instead?”
“Santa knows exactly where you are,” I assure her. “He’s very smart in that way.”
“Good.” She yawns hugely. “I told him in my letter that I wanted us all together for Christmas. Penny helped me spell the big words.”
We whisper our goodnights and slip into the hallway.
The moment Bella’s door closes, the pretense of parental propriety evaporates. I press Desiree against the wall, my mouth finding hers with barely restrained hunger. She melts into me, her soft moan swallowed by my kiss.
“Do you know,” I murmur against her lips, “how hard it was to sit through dinner watching you eat, knowing what you taste like?”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. “Do you know how badly I wanted to pull you into the bathroom during dessert? Get on my knees and taste you instead?”
I slam my mouth against hers, swallowing her gasp. When I pull back, my voice is pure gravel. “Tonight, you’re getting everything you want. But first, I’m making good on my promise. Then you can show me exactly what you were thinking about during dessert.”
“Then stop talking and take me to bed.” Her voice shakes. “I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been aching for you all night.”
“Me too.” I kiss down her neck, finding the mark I left there this morning. “Your room or mine?”
She shivers, tilting her head to give me better access. “Yours.”
I capture her mouth again, pulling her down the hallway, thinking about second chances and Christmas miracles and finally—finally—delivering on the promise I made her in that snowy clearing.