Chapter 14 #2
I held it up, watching his expression shift, amusement giving way to something sharper. “You said I could,” I said, my voice husky with satisfaction.
He reached down, fingertips brushing over the strap, the blades glinting under the light. The air between us charged, hot and heavy.
“I did, didn’t I?”
For a moment, neither of us moved. Just his hand covering mine, the blades between us like a private language only we understood. I leaned in, cheeks flushed, and held the strap out to him like an offering.
“May I…have your permission—to strap it on your ankle, Sir?” I asked. “It really is the perfect place. If we’re attacked, I can go low while you go high. I’ve got your back. Or well ankles, in this case. This one has two slots, so if Izzy wants to join in, I’ll lend her my extra one.”
He stared at me, the amusement in his eyes melting into something softer that made my chest clench. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. He rolled his shoulder, then tugged at the hem of his trousers.
I knelt, heart thudding in a rhythm that had nothing to do with nerves.
My fingers found the inside of the strap and fitted it against his skin, the leather cool and surprisingly intimate.
His calf was warm beneath my touch. There was a minor hitch in his breath when my hand brushed the spot behind his ankle.
I fastened the first buckle, the snap of metal loud in the quiet room. I cinched the second carefully, slowing my movements so he felt every deliberate brush of my fingers along his skin. When the strap sat snug and secure, I leaned in, placing a soft kiss on each blade.
He watched me the whole time, eyes dark and pleased.
When I straightened, my hands lingered on his calves as if reluctant to let go.
He reached for my hand and helped me up, then dragged me into his arms. I barely had time to register the look in his eyes before his mouth crashed down on mine, possessive and slow-burning all at once.
My hands flew to his chest instinctively, gripping the fabric of his coat as he kissed me senseless, reminding me who I belonged to. He pulled back, his breath warm against my lips.
“God, I fucking love you,” he murmured.
I blinked up at him, dazed. “Same, Blade. Same.” I sucked in a breath, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.
“Alright then. Mrs. Claus—let’s not keep the children waiting.”
Once we were in the car, he started it up and adjusted the heat for me without saying a word.
He loved to do little things like that, and it made my heart melt.
He glanced over, lips twitching, clearly still amused.
It was different—him in this capacity. Normally Marcus drove. I loved seeing this side of him.
“First stop,” he said, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. “Hyde Park.”
I gasped. “So I was right. And just so you know, we’re bound to come across a barbie or two there.”
By the time we reached our destination, the kiss under the mistletoe had settled deep into my bones, making it nearly impossible to stop smiling.
Ivan parked like a man on a mission. He got out and opened my door like a gentleman.
Then he took my hand tightly in his, and we strolled into the glimmering warmth of holiday madness.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I teased, bumping him with my hip.
“Like you want to attack me. I thought it was the blondes I had to watch out for.”
Before I could get the sharp retort out of my mouth, Sophia was calling my name. She cut across the path like a red-gowned general, eyes narrowed with purpose.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, hands flying up in equal parts relief and exasperation. “Do you have any idea how many children I’ve been stalling? Honestly—”
Behind her, Christopher strolled over at a leisurely pace, scarf tucked neatly at his throat.
He flashed me a bright smile, and my heart melted.
I was more than lucky—I was blessed to have all the extra people in my life this year.
I was determined to wrap every sentimental moment I could into my heart and cherish it always.
Turning my attention back to Sophia, I muttered under my breath. “I told him we needed—”
The words trailed off as Sebastian stepped into my view. I lost it. Bash-baby, who was the epitome of refined and smug ninety-nine percent of the time—like Nik—was dressed in the most offensively cheerful elf costume I’d ever seen.
Even I couldn’t have come up with something better.
All six-foot-two of him was shoved into bright green and red.
The green coat was trimmed with candy-cane red, gold jingle bells stitched into the hem, and striped tights stretched across thighs and calves in a way that could only be described as indecent.
The fabric clung in all the wrong places or right ones, depending on who you were. Thankfully, the coat was a little longer in the front. There were even pointed tops added to his boots. He looked like Buddy the Elf’s disgruntled cousin who’d been drafted last minute.
I snorted so loudly that a few nearby volunteers turned their heads. “Oh, oh, this is gold,” I gasped, clutching my side. “Bashy, you’re glorious.”
He shot me a withering look, tugging at the too-short hem of the shorts. “This family is going to be the death of me,” he muttered, “literally. The only thing that is making it even somewhat worth it is Izzy-B.”
My eyes sought her out, and I exclaimed my surprise.
She looked like every holiday card illustration come to life—petite frame swallowed by a sweet velvet pinafore dress in holly red, puffed sleeves under a striped blouse, little white apron tied with a bow at the back.
A matching pointed hat with a bell sat askew on her dark hair.
Her scowl ruined the sugarplum effect, but oh—she was darling.
“You’re so cute I could cry,” I gushed, clasping my hands like she’d just descended from the North Pole.
This earned me a sideways glare from her, and not a simple glare—we’re talking the dirtiest, black-as-night look she could summon.
“Love and loyalty,” she muttered under her breath. “That’s the only explanation. I have no idea how I let myself be dragged into this madness. You owe me, after this. Just so you know, and I’m cashing in. Your next ovulation week we are skipping town for the entire seven days.”
I ignored the death glare, swooping in to hug her tight, relishing in how she melted into me. This was progress. “Picture,” I said firmly, pulling my phone half out of my pocket. “Please. This needs to be immortalized.”
Her expression was pure doom.
“Careful or you’ll be on Santa’s naughty list,” I teased.
That was when Mama King swooped in. “Pictures later. In the stall, both of you,” Sophia ordered, tugging us toward a makeshift dressing tent. “You’re late, the line’s getting restless, and we can’t have Santa and Mrs. Claus looking half-finished.”
Christopher clapped a hand on Ivan’s shoulder with an amused grunt and immediately set about helping him secure the padded belly and wig. Meanwhile, she pushed me onto a little stool, fingers already buried in my hair.
“Tsk, these curls are gorgeous, I almost hate covering them up,” she said, fluffing the silver-white wig before settling it onto my head. “But look at you—our very own Mrs. Claus.”
I laughed, though my cheeks warmed under her fussing. “I don’t know about that. I’ve never worn this much fur trim in my life.”
“Well, you wear it beautifully. And don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she added, voice softening as she adjusted the cap under the wig. “You’re getting more and more comfortable with us, darling. I love seeing it. You bring so much light into this family.”
I blinked, my throat tightening even as she briskly tugged the wig straps into place like she hadn’t casually stabbed me in the heart with her love and affection.
“There. Perfect.” She stepped back, beaming at me as if she’d personally crafted me in her workshop. Then, clapping her hands sharply, she turned back to Christopher.
“Now—get those pictures. Then it’s smiles on, both of you! You’ve got a horde of children dying to see you, and Santa doesn’t keep anyone waiting.”
I caught Ivan’s eye across the small space, his father adjusting the last of his beard while he gave me that secret look of his.
Beneath the ridiculous red suit and the fake white curls, he was still him—and my stomach flipped with the memory of how close I’d come to making us even later.
He walked over and leaned down to kiss my head.
“Thank you, my beloved,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“Anything for you, little love. Let’s knock their socks off, shall we?” He asked, taking my arm.
We stepped out of the tent and ran straight into the Caruso elves. Isabella shoved the clipboard toward Sebastian.
“No,” she said, her voice cold and flat. “You get the clipboard.”
Sebastian leaned in with that boyish grin of his. “What’s wrong? All the practice you’ve done lately and now you can’t talk to people?”
“Correct.” Isabella crossed her arms, her stare daring him to keep arguing.
“But I will happily listen to you call out names while I help hunt like a madwoman behind the scenes. There isn’t enough practice in the world—” she jabbed a finger at him, “—to have me playing Mrs. Congeniality to a crowd of sugar-hyped children and their parents.”
Bash tilted his head, grin sharpening.
Isabella’s lips curled, the rarest of smirks flashing across her face. “Think of it as your Christmas gift for me this year. Go on, there might be some single mum over there looking to get her rocks off with—” she chuckled as she eyed him in his costume. “Never mind, ‘Temu Buddy’.”
I pressed a fist to my mouth to keep from laughing. They were like two halves of a mismatched coin, constantly bickering, constantly balanced. Bash puffed up his chest like he was about to deliver a closing argument, but Isabella had already turned her shoulder, victory sealed.
Then Sophia’s voice boomed through the speakers, joyful and commanding all at once. “Alright, my Christmas elves! It’s showtime! The Kings’ Christmas Extravaganza is officially open! Bring me those wide-eyed children, and let Santa’s sleigh bells RING!”
The crowd outside cheered, a roar of applause and laughter. I grinned, swept up in the excitement—then nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden jolt sizzled low and deep inside me.
I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing the gasp that threatened to betray me. My gaze shot instinctively to Ivan, and sure enough, he stood behind me, twirling the ring on his finger, with the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.