6 Months Later
Kip
"This is totally ridiculous," Darby says, flashing a broad grin as I pull out a chair for him.
He looks amazing, and I'm not just saying that because the hand-stitched Italian cotton dress shirt and stone-washed vintage blue jeans are from my store. He truly looks wonderful.
Relaxed.
Smiling.
Slightly sun-kissed after our day at the beach. His hair has grown out. It's now a little longer up top and a few shades lighter than when we met.
"There's nothing ridiculous about Christmas in July," I retort, taking a seat on the other side of the candlelit table, the flames dancing wildly as they fight against the warm summer breeze that's picked up in the last few minutes.
A miniature Christmas tree sits wilting beside the barbecue, plastic candy canes droop in the heat, and tiny silver bells, hung from the patio umbrella, chime softly.
Okay, so maybe it is slightly ridiculous, but there's a reason why I wanted to recreate some of the magic of the best day of my life.
"Christmas Day was so hectic," I say. "I never got to spend any one-on-one time with you."
Once we were done making out like horny teenagers in my store, I invited him to come to Christmas dinner at my place the following day.
He did, and it was a great time. But between my parents, my sister, her husband, their three kids, my closest friends, and then a few staff dropping by later in the evening, I didn't get to spend any time with just him.
I introduced him to everyone as "a new friend," but my mom, sister, and a few friends all came up to me at various times to find out what the real deal was, saying they could sense something between us.
Suffice it to say, no one was surprised when we officially announced our couplehood the weekend before Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
"But we've spent plenty of one-on-one time together since then," he counters with a smile I fall more in love with every day.
"We sure have." I lift my champagne flute. "To the best six months of my life, to you agreeing to celebrate Christmas in July—"
"On the condition that I get to tease you about it mercilessly."
I smile. "But of course. And to your new job. Cheers."
"Cheers," he says.
We clink glasses as the city lights twinkle beyond us from my back deck. I take a sip of champagne—alcohol free, naturally—and enjoy the crisp, bubbly sensation of it sliding down my throat, contemplating when the right time might be for what I want to say tonight.
Darby thinks this is a combined six-month anniversary with Christmas in July with celebrating him getting hired by a major streamer to write on Jennifer Anniston's new show… He doesn't know I have something else I intend to bring up.
I take the first step toward steering the conversation in that direction.
Circling the rim of the flute with my index finger, I ask, "Things with us aren't moving too fast for you, are they?"
He aims those perfectly uneven twinkling blue eyes at me. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, we have moved pretty quickly."
"True. We haven't spent a day apart since Christmas Eve."
"We said our first I love yous on Valentine's Day, right at this very table."
"I moved in here a month after that."
Yep, I'm doing it. This is my shot.
"And a few months after that, on a warm July night, I asked you to marry me."
He blinks a few times. "W-what?"
I click the remote and Taylor's "Sweet Nothing" fills the air. I push to my feet then drop to my knee, pulling out a small box from the inside pocket of my blazer.
"I know this is all happening really quickly, but when you know, you know."
I stare up at him, my heart overflowing with love, joy, and certainty that what we've stumbled upon thanks to an electrical malfunction on a fitting room door lock and an arguably inappropriate gift from a well-intentioned best friend, is the realest, purest love I've ever known.
"You're special and talented and strong and beautiful.
You make me happier than I've ever been in my life.
So…Darby Cash Adams, will you marry me?" I open the box to reveal a three-carat emerald-cut diamond in a platinum setting with baguette side stones.
"And just so you're aware, if you say no, I may resort to singing. "
Tears spring from his eyes, and he covers his mouth. Not before he gushes, "Omyygod, of course. Yes!"
With trembling hands, I manage to place the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Darby stares at it for a minute, blinking through the tears, then pulls me up with him as he stands.
"I love you so much," he says, gazing up at me.
I swipe my thumb across his tear-stained cheeks. "I love you so much."
We kiss, our mouths melding as one.
It's not only been a short ride, but a wild one. Not just for us a couple, but we've both had so much happen in our individual lives, too.
In addition to Darby scoring his amazing job, his parents reached out a few months back and said they wanted to find a way for them all to reconnect. Darby was elated but cautious, and I'm hopeful they'll find a path forward.
In worse news, my mom got diagnosed with early stage Parkinson's in April, so I'm cutting back on my shifts at the store to spend more time with her and Dad.
I was devastated the day they broke the news to me, but having someone to come home to, someone to talk to about it, and process it all with, was an immense help.
A silver lining I hadn't been expecting because I'd been so closed off to the possibility of a relationship for so many years.
Whatever happens in our lives, good or bad, I know that Darby has my back, just like I've got his.
He loves me for who I am, not for who I was or what I look like.
That kind of unconditionality is exceptionally rare and one of the many precious things I cherish most about him and what we have.
I want to spend the rest of my life nourishing and protecting that.
He pulls back a fraction, a seductive smirk lifting one half of his mouth.
I know that look.
I love that look.
And so does my cock, because it means that in as much time as it takes for us to bolt inside and into the bedroom, I'm going to be balls deep inside my soulmate.
Darby
"Oh, fuck, Kip," I groan as he thrusts his cock all the way into me before teasingly drawing it out until my hole gapes and then slamming it all the way in again.
His hands are clamped onto my waist, and he's fucking me from behind, doggy style, on the bed.
There's a huge mirror that takes up the entire wall in front of us, so I can see the way his expression contorts, the sweat dripping down the sides of his face, the muscles in his chest contracting and flexing as he takes me to my favorite place in the world—pound town.
I love the way Kip fucks me. He's strong and dominant without being aggressive. Possessive without feeling controlling.
And does he have stamina or what?
He's hung like a beast as well, and I love nothing more than submitting to him and trusting that he'll take care of my body and needs as much as his own. He hasn't let me down once in six months.
He's right about what he said at dinner, technically pre-dinner since we never actually got around to eating. That tends to happen often with us.
A lot has happened these past six months.
Who would've thought a store credit to a fancy store, an electric fitting room door malfunctioning, and a bright orange dildo would be all the ingredients I needed to find my forever guy?
My fiancé to be exact.
And I wouldn't have a fiancé if I didn't have the best best friend in the world. One with zero filter who had no problem gifting me a dildo.
He gifted me a whole lot more than that.
Meeting Kip on Christmas Eve was a major turning point in my life. If last year was the year from hell, this year has been nothing short of incredible.
It all started with a great New Year's Eve. Sky got an extra ticket so that Kip could join me, him, and Sky's boyfriend for a wonderful night out. Sky's happiness for me finding my true love was only eclipsed by his joy that our partners have rhyming names—Kip and Chip.
Then Kip and I made things official, said our first I love yous, and I moved in with him…all before February was done and dusted.
I finally, finally scored a real job, working on Jennifer Aniston's new TV show, which I can't say too much about…other than I've met her twice, and she's even nicer than you'd think she'd be. Plus, she smells a-ma-zing.
Shortly after, my parents reached out, and we reopened the lines of communication.
Deep down, I'm excited since I want nothing more than to be close to my family, but on the surface, I'm keeping my cool, taking things slowly, and have started seeing a therapist to help me navigate the path toward reconciliation since it's too complicated for me to do on my own.
I'm hopeful things will work out, but I also have clear boundaries in place to ensure my needs come first.
Speaking of coming first, I turn over my shoulder and grin. "I want you to fill me up."
Kip's dark eyes flare with passion, and I know it's as much for what I've said as it is for the newfound confidence I've developed to say it in the first place.
I turn back to face the mirror and arch my back. Kip lets out a deep, guttural groan. He loves this angle so much. It works perfectly with the slight upward curve of his cock. And it works for me, too, hitting my prostate. A constellation of stars swirl in my vision.
"I'm going to come," Kip mutters, rocking into me with even more force, shaking the entire bed and frame. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming. I'm coming!"
I stare at his twisting, writhing body behind me, at the alternating hard clench and release of his jaw as he releases his load deep inside me.
This is my favorite thing in the world, a powerful exchange between us, bonding us ever more deeply with one another.
For me, it's even better than coming because the glow of it lingers for hours and hours.
Kip drops his head on a heavy exhale and loosens his grip on my waist. His hair is damp, and his chest rises and falls dramatically as he comes back down to earth.
For all the wonderful things that have happened in the first half of this year, the best thing, without a doubt, would have to be Kip.
Falling in love with an older man who is secure in who he is, successful, kind, smart, funny, knows what he wants, and can give it to me just the way I like in the bedroom is a dream come true.
His love for me has given me the strength to work on my self-confidence issues. I mean, if a great guy like Kip loves me, then why the hell don't I?
From the very first time we met when I was locked in that damn fitting room—the electronic system has been removed, by the way, replaced with a good old-fashioned latch— Kip has been my biggest champion, trying to get me to see myself the way he does.
I asked him about it a few weeks later, and he said that yes, he wanted me to fuck myself in front of the mirror to get me to see how beautiful I am. I don't think anyone ever gets over all of their insecurities, but I sure as hell have a lot less of them now.
And I've got the best man by my side for the rest of my life should I ever lose sight of that.
I guess Christmas miracles do happen in real life after all.
I hope you enjoyed this story.