Chapter 32 Beckham
BECKHAM
The door creaked shut as I walked across the porch that was covered in a thin layer of fresh snow, my sights set on the girl who’d made this Christmas all the more special.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder while nuzzling my nose into the warm crook of her neck.
Parker had a thick blanket wrapped tight around her, and tiny snowflakes had begun to accumulate on the fabric and in her hair. She looked out at the barn strung with golden lights, but I couldn’t focus on anything but her.
“Your nose is cold,” Parker murmured, though she leaned back into me.
My lips grazed the soft skin of her neck. “Warm me up.”
“When we get home, I’d love nothing more. But I don’t think we’ll get so lucky messing around on your parents’ porch a second time. Especially on Christmas.”
I groaned. “Today has been torture.”
“How so?” I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Watching you with my family and not being able to take you back to my old room and ruin this dress.” She’d worn a knitted beige sweater dress, each inch hugging her figure in a way that had my cock aching every time I looked at her—which was nonstop.
She slowly turned in my embrace, neck tilting so she could look at me. “You could have. I wouldn’t have complained.”
“Now you tell me?”
She grinned wider.
“Thank you for today,” I said, running my hands up and down her upper arms through the blanket.
She shook her head, eyes landing on my neck where my chain lay, before pinning me with a raw, honest look. “I should be thanking you. I’ve been so worried about…well, all of it, that I forgot this was the point. The memories, being with family. Having you with me.”
“But that last part is the most important, right?” I teased.
She shot me a wry look, but I wiped it away by grabbing her chin and pulling her face to mine.
My Christmas was complete with my lips on hers.
Parker in my arms was the greatest gift I could have ever asked for.
Now I could kiss her whenever I wanted, touch her whenever I pleased, and call her mine.
With my hold still firm on her face, I deepened the kiss, tongue slipping past her sweet lips to taste more of her. Her grip on the blanket fell when she pressed her palms to my chest, and I grabbed the material before it could hit the ground, holding it so she wouldn’t get cold.
“Merry Christmas, Parker,” I said against her lips, leaning my forehead against hers. Our mingled breaths fanned out in puffs of white, placing us in our own little bubble.
“Merry Christmas, Beckham.”
My arms came around her once more, pulling her into my chest, and we stood there watching the snow fall and time slow, cherishing this Christmas together.
It’d be our last one alone, but I didn’t hate that thought.
I wanted nothing more than to see our children running around our own tree, wrapping paper and discarded packaging strewn about our toy-filled living room.
With my chin on the top of her head, I said, “I have something I want to show you.”
She pulled back slightly to catch my eye. “Is it another woman you’ve been going to see?”
A laugh burst out of me. “I promise it’s not another woman. I was only hiding the one.”
Her smile rivaled the lights strung up around the ranch. “Show me.”
After I brought her inside to say our goodbyes to everyone, my mom sent us off with a gallon-sized thermos of hot chocolate. Parker said her thanks about two dozen times, but my mom never made her feel like she was inconveniencing anyone.
Parker was a Bronson, whether there was a ring on her finger yet or not.
The night was quiet as we walked to my truck in the driveway. When I opened the passenger door for her, I used my boot to kick the snow off the step, then helped her into the seat. With her buckled, I got in behind the wheel and cranked the heater.
“Where are we going?” she asked, rubbing her hands together as the cab warmed.
“Somewhere.”
She frowned as I shifted into drive and headed for the road.
“You have my mind spiraling after the last place you took me, if I’m being honest.”
“I already said—” But I stopped when I saw her shaking her head in my peripheral.
“There are so many things that happened to the both of us while we were away from one another, and sometimes it feels like I’m meeting a whole new Beckham.”
I stayed silent, because sometimes, I felt the same way. We’d had discussions like this, but at times—like right now—the realization would hit a little harder.
“I thought your brothers hated me for showing up pregnant.”
“Parker, no.” I set a hand on her thigh before looping my fingers with hers. “My family could never hate you.”
“I know. I know that. But I’ve felt so out of my element, and for a while, I didn’t even feel like myself.
The girl that couldn’t get enough of you growing up.
The one that spent so much time with your family and on their ranch.
I felt like a stranger, even to myself. And tonight really helped me realize that it wasn’t the pregnancy or any of that making me feel that way.
” Her hand tightened on mine, and I returned the squeeze.
“I tried so hard to fit in while I was traveling, and I lost a little of myself. But not here. In Bell Buckle, with you, I don’t question who I am or what I want.
” She looked at me, and it took all I had not to pull over early and give her every ounce of my attention.
The timing was perfect, because seconds later, after rounding the corner, we came to a stop at a place full of so many bittersweet memories.
“Beckham,” she whispered, astonishment in her eyes and thousands of lights reflecting in them. Parker’s childhood home stood brightly in the background, a new family residing there and living their own life behind those walls. But it wasn’t the home that had her speechless. It was what I’d done.
I got out and rounded to her side, opening the door and helping her down. Her gaze was glued to the lights, and mine was glued to her.
“I talked to the new owners a few weeks ago, and they were more than happy to let me borrow their tree for a night.”
She laughed, though the sound was breathy, distracted. “Borrow.”
I held her hand as I led her across the few feet of dead grass to the base of the tree.
Her neck craned back to look up the trunk. “How long did this take you?”
“I stopped here on my way home from the ranch for the last two weeks. Lost count of how many I strung up. But in total? Probably ten hours.”
Her mouth popped open, wide eyes moving to me. “Why?”
A confused chuckle escaped me. “Why?”
She nodded, dead serious.
“Because I love you, Parker.”
Her lashes fluttered as I grabbed both her hands, facing her.
“You did this when we were younger, when you found out I didn’t have a tree to light in our house,” she stated slowly.
My chin bobbed in confirmation. “Wasn’t as grand as it is now, but it did the trick.”
“You hooked up the extension cord to a generator you’d stolen from your dad’s garage.”
I smiled, remembering my dad’s frown when I drove home that night and found him waiting for me in the driveway. “I told him why I’d taken it, and every Christmas after, he left it out front of the garage for me.”
“You made the holidays magical,” she recalled, the lights reflecting brighter off the moisture building in her eyes.
I shrugged. “I think that was you.”
She rolled her eyes, and I tugged her closer.
“Parker, I want this. I want lights in the yard and a house full of chaos and pumpkin candles and family dinners. I want these traditions with our son.”
A tear slipped past her lash line, sliding down her cheek and dripping onto the back of my hand.
“Our son,” she whispered.
“Yes, Parker. Our son.”
Her bottom lip quivered before she sniffled and threw herself at me, looping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to mine. “I love you too, Beckham.”
My hands gripped her waist as I kissed her under the lights. My fingers tugged on the fabric of her dress, feeling her under me like it was the first time.
Then I pulled back. “One more thing.”
The laugh that tumbled from her was happiness and nerves wrapped in one tiny bundle.
I jogged the short distance to the truck and grabbed the bag from the back seat, then moved back to her. I handed her the present, blue tissue paper clumsily shoved into the top. I’d have to get better at wrapping before the baby came.
“What’s this?” she pondered aloud as she plucked the paper out. I held it for her, and when she reached into the bag and pulled out the gift, I took the bag from her as well.
The folded piece of fabric unraveled as she held it up, and she pressed her lips together, holding back the emotions I was sure had swam to the top.
“For our baby,” I told her, though the ivory onesie with little horses and lassos on it was explanation enough.
With one last look, she balled it into her fist and hugged me. She pressed her cheek to my chest, right over my heart, and it nearly burst.
“I love it. I love you,” she mumbled into my jacket.
I held her just as tight, wishing I never had to let her go.
For hours, we sat in my truck, the heater warming our fingers as we sipped hot chocolate and admired the lights. We talked about our future, what traditions we loved and what goals we both had.
It wasn’t surprising when our answers were the same.
Nothing was more important to the two of us than being happy. Together.