Chapter 25
NOEL
I woke up with Hopper on Christmas morning and snuggled in a little closer to his warm body. Now that my parents knew we were dating—or, well, now that we knew that they knew—I didn’t have to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night.
I rolled over and pressed a kiss between Hopper’s pecs, his chest hair tickling my face.
“Mornin’,” he rasped.
“Merry Christmas,” I said softly. “Do you have a gift for me?”
I trailed my hand down his torso, then wrapped my fingers around his morning hard-on. “Oh, what’s this? It’s perfect!”
He chuckled. “You’re ridiculous. I got you a real gift. It’s under the tree.”
“I don’t need presents.” I stroked his cock lightly. “You’re all I need.”
“Same.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Shower with me?”
Get in a hot, wet shower, where I could rub all over his amazing body? Yes, please.
We showered together, taking time to enjoy ourselves in the steam before soaping and rinsing off. By the time we’d dressed, I could smell the mouthwatering scent of bacon drifting upstairs.
We bounded downstairs like a couple of excited kids on Christmas morning. Dad was seated at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.
“You didn’t have to make breakfast,” I protested.
“Noel, you don’t have to do all the cooking, even if you are a chef,” Mom said. “It’s Christmas, and both my boys are here. Let me enjoy it.”
“Both your boys?” Hopper said in an odd tone.
“Oh, honey, you know you’re like a son to us. I used to worry that Noel would be hurt by that, but now it’s fitting, isn’t it? Maybe soon, you really will be my son, too. Son-in-law.”
“Mother,” I protested, cheeks heating.
I loved Hopper. I wanted that forever. But gosh, we hadn’t been together very long.
Hopper just smiled. “Well, if I get that lucky, I won’t complain.” He stood and hugged my mother. “Love you, Maggie.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.” She turned to the stove with a sniffle, unable to hold back the waterworks. “Now, then, how do you want your eggs?”
While Mom fried up a fairly unhealthy breakfast—telling Dad to enjoy it on Christmas because he wouldn’t get it any other day—we drank coffee and talked about our plans for the holiday.
We’d decided not to have a big meal for Christmas. We’d run nonstop all season long, and now it was our chance to relax.
We ate breakfast, headed to the living room, and opened our Christmas gifts.
Mom had found time to knit me a matching beanie and scarf. “You never dress warm enough,” she admonished. “Next time you chase Hopper out into the snow, you can wear them.”
Hopper laughed. “Should have gotten him some socks, too, then.”
“His birthday is just around the corner,” she said with a playful grin.
I’d given Mom and Dad a matching set of electric lap blankets. Dad glowered. “You think we’re old and feeble.”
“Mom got me something for the cold!” I protested. “It’s only fair.”
Dad immediately plugged his in, so he obviously wasn’t too offended to enjoy a cozy lap. Cinnamon had hopped onto the couch and snuggled in next to me and Hopper, keeping us toasty as well.
Hopper and Dad exchanged practical tool sets, making me and Mom exchange amused glances. You could take the lumberjack inside, but you couldn’t make him stop thinking like a lumberjack.
Hopper and I had agreed to only get each other something small. I’d already gotten my real gift when he made that arbor for me, after all.
I picked up the present he’d wrapped for me and found a Christmas ornament inside that read Home Sweet Home.
He smiled. “Now that you’re making this a home again, it seemed appropriate.”
“I’ll hang it right now.” I hopped up to add it to the tree, then scooped up the present I’d wrapped for him, and handed it over. “Here’s yours.”
He unwrapped it slowly, dragging out the suspense, until I finally blurted, “It’s no big deal!”
He opened the present and gazed down with a conflicted expression. “Noel…”
It was a photo of all of us, and the frame had been engraved with, The Grisold Tree Farm Family.
I wanted Hopper to know that whatever happened with his dad, he had a family here with us.
He pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”
“I know we can’t replace your parents or anything,” I said. “I just want you to know that you’ve always got family here. Even without me—”
He brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Shut up. Don’t even say it. There is no me without you. Not anymore.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Good. I feel the same.”
With the gifts all opened, Mom put on a Christmas movie. I cuddled in against Hopper’s side, content to stay there forever as he stroked my hair.
Around 2:00 p.m., the doorbell rang. Hopper tensed beside me.
Mom went to answer, and Hopper’s dad came in. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t ruin this peaceful day for my boyfriend.
Richard Kelly smiled tentatively, tipping his head, and held out a tote bag dangling from two fingers.
“I don’t want to intrude. Just brought a couple of gifts over.”
Hopper pushed off the couch. “Hey, Dad. You didn’t have to do that. I would have come by later.”
“I wasn’t sure after that scolding you gave me last week.” He shifted nervously. “I guess I needed to hear it.” He cleared his throat, a nervous habit I’d noticed Hopper had, too. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my issues. You’ve got a good thing here.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life,” Hopper said tentatively. “I just need things to change.”
“I want that, too.” His dad thrust out the tote bag. “I’ll try harder.”
Hopper took the bag from him and withdrew one of the gifts. It was a scrapbook, and when Hopper opened it, it was full of photos of him, his mother, and his father.
“Oh, your mom was beautiful,” I said, standing to look over his shoulder. Hopper got his hair color from her, along with the shape of his eyes. His build and jawline were all his dad.
“She was my ray of light,” Hopper’s dad said, blinking hard. “She really was the best of me.”
“And she gave you Hopper,” I said.
“That’s right. He’s the best of both of us. Great kid. Couldn’t have gotten luckier.” He tapped the album. “Just wanted to show you that I haven’t forgotten what’s important. I love that kid in there. He grew up to be a real good man. A better man than me.”
Hopper hugged his dad, and I could see how much he’d needed to hear that—even from a father who had his flaws.
The second gift was a basket of gourmet cheeses and crackers for my parents.
“You’ve all taken good care of my boy. Just wanted to say thanks for that.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure,” Mom said. “He’s taken good care of us, too.”
“I’m sure he has,” his dad said. “Hopper always had the biggest heart.” He sniffed and wiped at the corner of an eye. “Well, I should be on my way. Just wanted to drop those gifts off. Sorry I didn’t have one for you, Noel. I didn’t realize you two had gotten so close.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll just eat my parents’ cheese.”
He chuckled. “Well, all right. You all enjoy your holiday.” He took a step back toward the door.
I saw the regret on both Kelly men’s faces.
“Why don’t you stay awhile?” I suggested. “We’re just relaxing and watching holiday movies. We can break open this cheese basket and have some snacks.”
He looked uncertainly at Hopper, who nodded. Then he smiled tentatively. “Yeah, all right. Thanks.”
We all retook our seats, me snuggled up against Hopper in the corner of the sofa. Mom beside us, making Cinnamon settle for a spot at our feet, and Dad in his favorite recliner. Hop’s dad perched in the rocker Mom usually favored.
We watched movies, ate and drank, and enjoyed the relaxed company until dark fell and Mr. Kelly took his leave.
The tree glowed red, green, and blue as Hopper and I cleaned up wrapping paper, snack trays, and mugs while Mom and Dad made their way to bed.
“I didn’t expect my father to listen to me,” Hopper said as we took everything to the kitchen. “Maybe Christmas miracles do exist.”
I chuckled. “It’s not a miracle that he loves you, Hop.”
“It won’t last,” he said, as if he had to warn me. “He’s trying now, but…he’ll fall off the wagon. He always does.”
“Maybe, but he’s trying. For you.” I went on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Maybe that’s enough for now, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said with a soft smile. “You ready for bed?”
“I sure am. I have one more Christmas gift for you.”
“You do, huh? What might that be?”
“You’ll have to unwrap all of this”—I waved to my body—“to find out.”
He bent to kiss me. “I don’t get this gift only on Christmas, do I?”
“It’s the kind of gift that keeps on giving.”
“Oh, good,” he said, beaming. “Then I can’t wait to enjoy it again and again.”
“Every year,” I murmured. “It’ll be a tradition.”
His eyes warmed with love as he gazed down at me. “You’re the real Christmas miracle, you know. I never saw you coming.”
“Ditto, Hopper,” I said with a smile as I pushed onto my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You’re the best worst thing to ever happen to me.”
We kissed, long and tender, and then I took his hand and led him up the stairs.
We’d been loving each other on borrowed time. Now we got to start the rest of our lives.