Chapter 30
clem
I can’t get over how much this holiday season is a thousand times better than last year.
Being close to Willa again has certainly added to the appeal, but most of the credit goes to Dax.
Even when he’s not giving me orgasms, the man is magical.
His love for the holiday shines through in so much of what he does, and it’s spilling over to me and the boys.
After uprooting them last year on Christmas Eve, I knew this year had to be a great one.
And I planned to make it that way. Until Keith demanded I bring them to North Carolina for Christmas, only to change his mind at the last minute.
Thankfully, I transferred the tickets to January when I have to head back to the gallery.
And then there’s Dax freaking Nicholas, upstaging every plan. In the best possible way.
Thanks to the snow, like he promised, he took them sledding with their new snow pants. Neither one complained about how cold it was or about walking back up the hill to whiz down it again and again. And then one more time.
He’s got the boys super excited for the holiday breakfast, the Nicholas family Christmas Eve Eve dinner, and of course, the parade, plus he somehow snagged us an invite to the B and B for Christmas Eve, much to Beckett’s chagrin.
And we can’t forget the Christmas holiday.
He asked them how we usually celebrate, for which they couldn’t give him an answer.
Right, because the last two Christmases have been shit shows courtesy of Willa and me.
The ones before that, Jace is too little to remember, and while I’m sure Atlas must remember something of what we used to do, he’s making it seem like he doesn’t.
Probably because I scarred him for life.
At least Atlas stopped asking if we were going to North Carolina. I hadn’t told them yet, keeping it in my pocket in case they gave me trouble about not being here. Now that I don’t have to, thank goodness for all the distractions here in Winterberry he wants to partake in. It’s my saving grace.
My parents aren’t happy with me, but that’s nothing new.
Not that they’d get on a plane to come here.
Willa offered to pay for their tickets and host them, but they turned her down.
Well, Mom did. Dad would have been on board if Mom had agreed.
I’m trying not to let her shame me into feeling guilty about it.
They’re not invalids. They’re perfectly capable of traveling by plane if they want to see us.
We’ll see them in January, which isn’t ideal for them, but it’s too bad.
I’ll also have to return to finalize the divorce, but those are future problems.
My current situation is more pleasant.
My head rests on Dax’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. My fingers trace the tattoo on the side of his abdomen. “Is this your only ink?”
“So far, yeah.”
I pick up my head to see him better. His chin is stubblier today since he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. My thighs enjoyed the beard burn, something I didn’t think I’d like so much. With Dax, I’m learning there’s so much I’ve missed out on.
“I’ve got body markers. Can I doodle on you?”
“As if you have to ask.” He’s such a fan of my art, no matter the medium or canvas. I love it.
“Cool. Let me get them.”
I sprint out of bed and into the basement for the markers, running quickly since I’m naked and it’s cold outside of our cocoon.
My personal life might be a mess, but my professional life stays somewhat organized, which means I know exactly where the markers are.
Back in the bedroom, I throw on Dax’s T-shirt from the floor.
“I don’t even get to admire your body as you use mine as your canvas, huh?”
“No, because it’s freezing. And you got enough of a show today.”
“It’s never enough,” he mutters, bringing a small smile to my face.
He’s never shy with compliments about my body, my personality, me in general.
Genuine compliments, sometimes leaving his mouth with no time to process them.
It’s been less than two weeks, but it’s refreshing to have a man worship me, make me feel good about myself, for my sake only, expecting nothing in return.
“Maybe be quick with your arting so I can coerce one more orgasm out of you before it’s time to get the boys from the bus. ”
I falter in my steps at his comment. The mouth on this man.
“You can’t rush an artist at work. If I’ve missed teaching you that, consider this the lesson.”
I climb onto the bed, straddling his abdomen. If I wanted to use his body for my pleasure, all I’d have to do was grind my bare pussy against him. It wouldn’t take long. Seems I’m always in the mood when we’re naked.
And sometimes when we’re not. Which is becoming a problem I haven’t yet found a way to solve.
“No peeking until I’m done.”
“Got it, Picassa.”
We don’t have an unlimited amount of time, so I draw quickly, my name in black script and a tiny clementine below it with a green leaf.
It’s a bit of a joke, to give myself a rise of what it would be like to have my name branded on a man’s skin.
Assessing my work, it’s more than a rise.
It’s overwhelming, powerful, intoxicating.
Even if it’s not real, no one else knows it’s not.
For a minute, I imagine what a life with Dax could look like.
Lazy mornings, family dinners, late nights in front of a fire, kissing him when he leaves for work, not having to say goodbye at the end of the night.
I could easily fall into a routine with him, build a life with him and the boys, be in love with a man who is devoted to me and my kids.
Maybe it’s a pipe dream. He could decide at any point that this life isn’t for him, that being a bachelor, having a different rotation of women on the regular, is more fitting for him.
It would suck, but I’d pick myself up again, start over fresh, pretend it doesn’t hurt to see him at Nicholas family functions.
“Hey. Why the sad face?” Dax’s distressed question draws me back to reality.
I tamp down the possibility of that happening, living in the present, focusing on the now. I clap my hands. “Okay, done.” I crawl off his body, immediately missing the feel of him underneath me.
Dax sits up and grabs his phone from the nightstand. He opens up the camera app, turning it to selfie mode so he can see my handiwork. His lips rapidly quirk into a smirk, and his heated gaze meets mine. “Proud of yourself, are you?”
I shrug. “I didn’t have much time to think of something more complicated. Another time.”
“Sure thing.” I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, but it doesn’t matter.
Dax flips over, pushing my back to the bed. “You got one more in you this afternoon?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
His eyes widen, and his smirk deepens.
No matter what happens in the future, I’m going to soak up all this man is prepared to give me and not focus on the “what ifs.” Hell, I’m really good at that.
I’m going to pretend this time it’s going to work out.
A backdrop of enormous cardboard pieces, painted with snow, igloos, and Santa’s Workshop, surrounds the walls of the cafeteria.
I’m especially proud of the cardboard Santa’s house, complete with doors and windows that open.
I wasn’t sure we’d get it completed in time, but it seems the people of Winterberry Junction take their decorations seriously.
Even for a one-day event. It seems like it’s a waste to redo them every year, but the theme changes, so of course the decorations need to as well.
“It’s like we’ve truly stepped into the North Pole.”
“The decorations are amazing this year.”
“Who painted these gorgeous backdrops? The photo op is brilliant!”
The number of times I’ve overheard comments like this or similar this morning is astounding. My heart gets a little happier with each one. I could never make a living selling this sort of art, but it doesn’t hurt to hear my efforts aren’t unnoticed or unappreciated. Each one gives my ego a boost.
Dax leans in closer to me at the long table of the school’s cafeteria. “I think they like your scenery.” His breath tickles my ear, and the chaste kiss makes my heart soar.
“I’m so happy they’re enjoying it.”
“Just know you’re officially recruited to be a permanent member of the decorations committee. You’re stuck with us.”
There are worse things in the world. Though I could do without Birdie.
For a woman in her late eighties, she makes her opinions known.
At every meeting, she challenged my ideas and questioned my ability.
I’ve been told by every other person on the committee that she possesses zero art skills and not to take anything she says to heart.
It’s like she was out to get me simply because I was a newcomer.
Like I was here to make a mockery of the town’s holiday breakfast tradition instead of offering to paint decorations.
She’s stuck in her ways and welcomes change like an old oak that creaks at every gust but refuses to fall.
I’ve avoided speaking to her today, but her pointed stares and glares from across the room are plentiful.
I don’t even know what she could be mad about.
Everyone loves the scenery and is having a great time.
Shania volunteered to hang out with my boys and their friends.
I figured she’d want to hang with her friends, especially since most of the town has been here at one point or another, but she shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal.
Atlas and Jace had no qualms about going with her to play games and do other activities.
“Want to find a supply closet and make out?”
I nearly choke on the bite of French toast at Dax’s suggestion. After I swallow carefully, I hiss, “No. Not appropriate.” Though the idea has merit.
Except no. This is a family event. I’m not the woman who sneaks off with her boyfriend to make out in any kind of closet.
At least not anymore.
Now, I’ve got the boys to think about, along with my reputation as an upstanding citizen of Winterberry Junction. Much as it sounds fabulous, clandestine, and hot, I won’t let the fact I haven’t kissed Dax in about a week deter my decision.
“My fingers could also take the edge off. You seem a little tense, Clementine.”
It would be so easy. Five, ten minutes. No one would miss us.
“No.” I stand firm in my decision, repeating, “No.”
“Later, at my parents’, sneak down to my apartment. Give me ten minutes. I’m desperate.” He keeps his voice low so I’m the only one who can hear his naughty words. A thrill shoots through me, and moisture pools between my thighs. He makes me wanton for him and every idea he has.
The thing is, I’m desperate, too. Between our work schedules, the boys, and the holiday preparations, the last time we were alone was the day in my bed when I branded him, nearly a week ago.
I’m beyond desperate. We’ve taken to sexting and late-night masturbation FaceTime calls, but it’s not the same nor nearly enough.
Perhaps because I’ve been starved for so long, or the connection between Dax and me is that strong.
He’s the man dreams are made of. My dreams, especially.
“We’ll see” is the best I can give him. I won’t put myself in a situation to be caught in a compromising position by one of his family members or my kids.
His family pretty much knows, and much to his surprise, no one gave him a hard time or questioned his commitment.
As his mom told me, “He only needed the right woman for him to be consumed.” After dropping the bomb, she walked away, not caring she tilted my life on its axis.
We haven’t told the boys, but considering Dax joins us for nearly every meal or shows us another part of his hometown, I’m sure they know something’s up. Atlas, at least. Jace is happy for the extra cuddles and attention Dax gives him. Can’t say I blame him.
Willa returns to her seat across the table, and Beckett forces Dax to go with him. Something about committee duties. Dax leaves a kiss on the top of my head because he can’t help himself. And I swoon because I can’t help myself.
“You’re glowing. It’s good to see you happy.” Willa’s words elicit a smile on my lips.
“This isn’t something I’m going to regret, right? I shouldn’t be allowed to make grown-up decisions because all they do is backfire in my face. Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
She slips her hand over mine. “I’ve never seen you so happy, so alive, as you are when he’s around. I’ve never seen Dax so committed to someone other than himself, not that he’s selfish, but more of a . . .”
“Lone wolf,” I provide, remembering one of our earlier conversations.
“But not with you and the boys. He’s invested—time, mind, body, and soul. He looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“But it’s been so short a time. What if things are only good because it’s the beginning? What if—”
Willa shakes her head, silencing me. “Thinking like that will lead you nowhere good. What if he’s the man you’re supposed to be with?
What if he’s the man who steps up and gives your kids a father figure they deserve?
What if he’s the partner young Clem always talked about?
The one she’d go on and on and on about? ”
I chuckle, memories from our childhood surfacing at what she mentions. I never gave him a name or a description, but this mysterious man was always floating around the surface, just out of reach, a figment of my imagination, a childhood pipe dream.
When I met Keith, I knew it wasn’t him. It never felt right, but life circumstances changed, and I settled.
With Dax, I wouldn’t be settling. And hell if it doesn’t feel right.
Since the moment I met him, frazzled and exhausted, an electricity buzzed around me, a voice from deep within, speaking a language I couldn’t understand but paid attention to anyway. A voice seeming to say, “It’s always been him.”
Is now the time to trust the voice? Trust my gut and follow where it leads?
Or do I play it safe for fear of making the same mistake again?
Except Dax isn’t Keith. Not even a little. And from the start, our relationship has been different, stronger, more in sync.
“What if he is?” I finally say on a deep exhale, truly believing for the first time it could all work out. Excitement bubbles up at the possibility, and suddenly, his idea of a quickie is something I can’t deny.
Not here, but later.
“Tonight at some point, I’m going to give you a signal. You’re going to make sure my boys are occupied for a short amount of time. You got me?” I hold out my hand.
Linking our pinkies together, Willa’s not even fazed. It’s a twin thing. “I got you so you get yours.”
With that arranged, I enjoy the rest of the holiday breakfast.