Chapter 11 - Layla
“You took years,” I whisper.
“Years I’d like to make up for. Are you tired?” He asks softly, his fingers still tickling my hip.
I squirm and shake my head. I’m wide awake even if I’m pleasantly sated. I pull Jace’s hand up to compare our fingers. His hands are so big, so rough. I kiss each fingertip. He wraps himself tighter around me, kissing just under my ear.
“Anything you want to know about me is yours. My history, my present, what I want in the future,” he offers. “I mean it, sweetheart. I’ve been quiet, trying to hold back, but I want to give you everything.”
“That’s a lot of power. Maybe you shouldn’t offer so much,” I tease.
“Just start with a question, Layla. I’ll answer everything one at a time. I might even give you new questions to ask tomorrow,” he murmurs.
As I roll over, I make my face as serious as possible. He doesn’t flinch away, only smiles. Then I choose what’s clearly the most important question. “What’s your favorite holiday?”
He laughs, then kisses me slowly. “Right now, I think I’m falling in love with Christmas.”
***
In the morning, I stretch my legs. Jace held to his word.
He kissed every inch of me – twice – and he answered every question I asked.
He doesn’t want to move to the city, but he wants to know more about what I do and doesn’t want to be long distance.
He’s willing to consider options, maybe the suburbs.
He told me about growing up here on his ranch.
He told me how he hardly noticed the way I watched him as a teenager, but loved how involved I wanted to be in everything, and enjoyed my curiosity.
We talked until we fell asleep, but now…
My eyes blink open to a soft, empty pillow beside me.
No Jace. The warmth from last night lingers in the sheets and for a moment I just breathe, confused and hopeful and terrified all at once.
Then the quiet settles and my heart sinks a little.
I pull on my pajamas, run a hand through my hair, and step out of the bedroom.
The hallway upstairs is still and calm, sunlight dusting across the walls. I listen for him, but the house feels too quiet. For one sharp second I think he left.
Then I hear voices drifting up from downstairs.
My heart kicks. I creep toward the staircase, careful not to make a sound. I pause at the top step, stomach flipping. I am not ready to face disappointment if I misunderstood everything we shared.
My dad’s voice carries first, steady and warm, mixed with the smell of breakfast. For a moment I think he is on the phone. Then I hear Jace answer, that low, careful tone that sounds like he is trying to speak truth without breaking anything fragile.
I descend one step. Then another. Slow. Listening.
Dad says something I cannot hear, and instead of retreating, Jace answers him calmly. Their voices stay measured and respectful. Two men talking about something that matters. Two men talking about me.
“Honesty says everything, Jace. Keep being honest and we will not have a problem,” Dad says.
“There will not be any issues,” Jace replies, quiet but certain. “I will not let there be. She deserves better than secrets. And so do you. I respect both of you too much to go behind your back.”
There is a small silence. Then my dad speaks softly. “I know what kind of man you are. And I am grateful for this.”
Relief floods me so quickly my knees weaken for a second.
I step the rest of the way down, my breath caught in my chest. Dad sees me first and smiles, giving a quiet nod like everything is safe.
Jace turns then, and the moment his eyes find me, something in him eases.
His gaze runs over me slowly, like he is making sure I am really here, and he takes one step toward me before stopping himself. Not hesitation. Respect.
There is no guilt in his eyes. No distance.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he greets.
I bite my bottom lip, then he moves closer. He takes my hand and pulls me closer. I swallow. “You’re here.”
“I’m a man of my word,” he says.
“It better stay that way,” My dad says with a chuckle. “Otherwise I’m going to be less than a friend and more of a father.”
“Jace is good to me, Dad. Be good to him,” I warn.
His hand brushes the small of my back and he smiles. It’s warm, so natural on his face. It doesn’t make him any less rugged, doesn’t change the man I’ve come to know in any way, but still makes my heart melt and expand at the same time.
This is real. Jace made it real with my father. I know he told him – maybe not everything, hopefully not everything – but enough. He’s in this. He’s staying. I’m his.
“I think Christmas might be my favorite holiday too,” I murmur.
Jace laughs softly while my father gives me an odd look. “Well, if we needed another reason.”
I groan, face heating. “Dad.”
He grins like he has been waiting years for this moment. “I suppose I do not need to get you a Christmas present now,” he says, waving a spatula loosely toward Jace. “Looks like somebody already did that for me.”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish, mortified and glowing all at once. Jace only chuckles and presses a warm kiss to the top of my head. “Do not worry. I will handle her presents.”
Dad snorts. “She is still my little girl. I will do the spoiling.” He turns back to the stove, pretending to give us privacy, then adds under his breath, “In the right ways, anyway.”
My face goes hot enough to bake breakfast without the stove.
I pray he did not hear anything last night, even if part of me cannot bring myself to feel embarrassed about it.
Dad has always known I love Christmas and every ridiculous Hallmark romance set in small snowy towns.
And he has always known how I felt about Jace.
He never tried to talk me out of it, never hinted I was foolish, not once.
He approved of him long before either of us admitted what this was.
I look around. Snow drifting outside the window. My dad humming at the stove. Jace beside me, still warm from sleep, still holding me like he has no intention of letting go.
I get a real white Christmas with my father.
And I get Jace on Christmas Eve.
Nothing will ever come close to this.
We belong together. I am meant to be his. And now that he has decided to keep me, nothing in this world is going to stand in the way of a cowboy who finally knows exactly what he wants.
And I am not going to question one second of it.