30. Christmas
30
CHRISTMAS
Kat
M y emotions are all over the place. Excitement, joy, anxiety. The last one isn’t a familiar feeling when I’m on my way to my parents’ house for Christmas, but this year is different for a couple of reasons.
First, I’m not going home alone. Blake is coming with me and meeting my parents for the first time.
I sneak a glance at Blake, whose focus is on the highway in front of us. “Are you nervous?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I want to make a good impression, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to do whatever the hell you want when it comes to relationships, regardless of their opinion. ”
“I value their opinion.”
He looks at me quickly with an amused expression then back to the road. “I know that. And I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m just saying that while they’re important to you, they’re not going to come between us.” He reaches over and grasps my hand, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “Plus, I think they’ll be more focused on other things than our relationship.”
Right.
Because I’m ready to talk to Dad.
To tell him about the effect his gambling addiction had on me, but more than that, to forgive him for it.
I grip Blake’s hand as he knocks on the door. “Ready?”
He just gives me a wink as the door opens, my dad standing there with a wide smile on his face. There’s uncertainty behind it, but he looks genuinely happy to see us.
“Hi, Dad,” I say.
Normally, we tiptoe around one another, but things have changed.
“Hey, honey.” Dad holds his arms out, and for the first time in years, I fall into them, letting him hold me close. “It’s good to see you.”
When he finally lets me go, I give him a shy smile as I gesture to Blake. “This is Blake. My boyfriend.”
The term doesn’t seem to do him justice, given everything we’ve been through, but it’s nice to use the term without feeling like a fraud.
Blake takes Dad’s outstretched hand and shakes it with a smile. “Good to meet you, sir. You have a very special daughter here.”
“That I do. Come on in. Mom is making something in the kitchen.”
“A mess?” I supply the punchline to the joke Dad has told for years.
Truth be told, Mom is a fantastic cook, but she does tend to leave a pile of dirty dishes in her wake. The two of them had an agreement when they first married that Mom would cook and Dad would clean. It’s the perfect example of their partnership.
It also explains why Mom never really bothered to minimize the number of dishes and utensils involved in her creations because she didn’t have a stake in the cleaning process.
Dad chuckles. “As usual.”
He leads the way to the large kitchen.
The room is exactly how it’s been since I was a kid. Pale-yellow walls and white cabinets contrast with the dark hardwood floor and the speckled black granite countertops. The familiarity is comforting, especially after staying away for a few years.
I pull out a chair at the island and motion to another for Blake. “It smells amazing in here, Mom.”
The aroma of whatever she’s cooking in the pan on the stove in front of us makes my mouth water.
She laughs, her shoulder-length hair bouncing. There’s more gray than the last time I saw her.
“So far, it’s just butter and onions. Just wait. I found this recipe online. It sounds amazing.” She wipes her hands on a towel. “And Blake, lovely to meet you. I’m Diana. Thanks for taking care of our girl.”
“The pleasure is mine, ma’am.”
Boy, can he turn up the charm when he wants.
“And Kat is pretty darn good at taking care of herself. I’m just lucky to be able to spend time with her.”
I kick him beneath the counter, the movement almost making me fall off my own chair.
“Suck-up,” I whisper.
“I like this one,” Dad declares.
I smile, looking between Mom and Dad as Dad steals a piece of bread from the baguette Mom is slicing.
Mom hip-checks Dad out of the way. “Those are for the dip. Get out of here before I slice your fingers off.”
I laugh at their easy chemistry as Blake wraps an arm around me and kisses my shoulder.
Dad clears his throat. “Kat, would you like to talk for a minute?”
Blake squeezes my shoulder. “I need to talk to my brother. Do you mind if I use the bedroom?”
I nod, grateful that he’s read the situation and recognizes my need for privacy. “Of course. Up the stairs, and it’s the first door on the left.”
Blake makes his way out of the kitchen, and I face my parents.
Dad twists his fingers in front of him. “Kat, I want to apologize.”
“It’s—”
He holds up a hand to cut me off. “Let me finish. Please. I have an addiction to gambling. You know that, but I’ve accepted it over the last years. I’ve gone to meetings, something called Gamblers Anonymous. And with their help, I’ve accepted that I’m not able to handle any gambling without it getting out of my control. Part of my recovery is making amends to those I’ve wronged.”
He blows out a long breath as Mom gives him an encouraging nod .
“Kat, I know I deeply impacted your life when I lost your college savings through gambling. I can’t change any of that now. I just hope you can forgive me and know that I’ll do anything I can to support you now and in the future. And please know just how proud I am of you that despite everything I did, you’ve succeeded on your own. You make me so proud every day, pumpkin.”
Tears prick my eyes. Looking back, I wonder if I’d be the same person if I’d had my college degree completely paid for. If I hadn’t worked to put myself through school to be where I am now.
I step around the island and wrap my arms around Dad. “It’ll take some time for me to get there completely, but I want to forgive you, Dad. I love you.”
Blake
I head up to the bedroom to make my phone call, giving Kat some privacy.
Sitting on the edge of the queen-size bed, I pull my phone out and pull up Lawton’s number.
He answers on the first ring. “Hey. What’s up?”
“How’s your Christmas?”
It’s technically the twenty-third, but since Christmas is on a Monday this year, this counts as part of the holiday weekend, at least in my mind.
“Eh, it’s okay. I signed up to work the next three days so people who have families can celebrate with them.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Any word from Kristina?”
“Nope. Gone and out of my life.” He lets out a sigh. “Maybe I can send a letter to Santa asking for a new woman in my life. I love it up here in High Lonesome, but the pickings are slim. Most people don’t move up here for the single life.”
His mention of relationships brings up the question I’ve wanted to ask him for years.
I look around the bedroom. It’s cozy, with a thick white comforter on the bed and a multicolored blanket that looks homemade. The walls are a deep orange, accented with colorful paintings. It reminds me a lot of Kat’s house, and I wonder if this was her room growing up, or if she and her parents just have similar taste in decorating.
The warmth and comfort surrounding me makes me think I need something like that in my life.
“How do you do it?” I finally ask. “Stay optimistic. Believe that relationships can work out. Ever since Dad died, I can’t get past the impact his death had on Mom. And how her reaction to his death impacted us. ”
“Honestly? There are a few reasons,” he says. “I was younger than you when it happened. The biggest memory I have from all of it is you taking over and taking care of me. That kind of love is what I want, Blake. The kind that makes a family stick together, even when things don’t go well.”
I swallow past the lump that grows in my throat.
“And…I never told you this because I know you resent Mom for how she handled it. The impact taking care of me had on your life and your career.”
“I don’t resent it,” I say automatically, but I realize that maybe I do.
Isn’t that what I’ve been avoiding all these years? Putting someone in the same position I found myself in?
“But what I didn’t tell you,” he continues, ignoring my denial, “is that I’ve talked to Mom. I visit her every couple years. She’s in Florida now, living in a condo. She misses you, Blake.”
I miss her, too. I wonder if I can move past everything. If there’s a chance to have a relationship with her again.
“Anyway, a couple years ago, we finally talked about Dad. About why she shut down so completely. I asked her if she regretted any of it, if the love they had was worth the pain. She regrets putting so much on you, Blake. But she doesn’t regret the years she had with Dad. She told me she’d go through it all again to experience what they had together.”
We talk for a while longer, but his revelation spins in my mind.
She’d go through it all again to experience the love they shared.
Maybe the chances of getting hurt are worth the chance to experience something amazing.
Something like I have with Kat.
Dinner is every bit as delicious as promised.
The company is just as good. I’ve learned more about her parents, who set the bar high for education. Diana is a corporate lawyer, while Tom has a PhD like Kat, although his is in government and public policy. He teaches at a university in D.C. while also advising several government think tanks in his spare time.
We don’t talk about his past, but from the ease in Kat’s body, the warm way she looks at her dad, I can guess that their talk went well.
Conversation flows easily as we eat lasagna with garlic bread and red wine, and Kat wasn’t kidding about her mom’s cooking ability.
“Did you get your mom’s cooking skill?” I ask Kat as I take another helping.
Her dad winks. “Let’s just say she got the brains but skipped the cooking gene.”
Kat elbows him. “Hey, you never know. I might have learned to cook in the last few years.”
“Did you?” he asks, looking interested.
“Maybe,” she mutters.
Unfortunately for her, she told me a few of the stories of her kitchen mishaps.
“I thought you set the stove on fire a few months ago,” I say.
“Oh, look at the time. I have to get Blake to bed.”
Her parents laugh as Kat hauls me out of my seat because it’s not much past 7:30.
I take one more large scoop of lasagna and shove it into my mouth as she pulls me from the table.
“What about dessert?” I ask after I swallow, as Kat leads me toward the stairs.
“They won’t have dessert tonight. Mom does a big thing on Christmas Eve with cookies and cake and all sorts of stuff, so she won’t serve anything tonight.”
After what Diana managed to do with the lasagna, I can only imagine how her baked goods will taste. My mouth is already watering.
And when Kat locks the door and turns to look at me, my mouth is watering for an entirely different reason.
“Come here,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt.
She pulls her sweater over her head as she walks toward me and drops it to the floor.
I add my shirt to the pile then unbuckle my belt. When she steps closer to me, I reach for the waist of her pants and unbutton her jeans before pushing them down.
Kat smirks as she steps out of the pants, kicking them toward her sweater and leaving her in just a thong and tank top. She’s not wearing a bra, something I didn’t know until this moment. Her nipples are hard, prominently on display through the thin fabric of the mauve top.
“You still mad that I made you leave dinner?” she asks, her lips curved up.
I shed my own pants, leaving me in my boxer briefs, and pull her tank top over her head. “Not at all. I think I’m still hungry, though.”
I kiss her, long and languid, exploring her mouth as I walk her backwards toward the bed. When the backs of her legs hit the mattress, I pull back and brush the pad of my thumb over her lower lip.
“Get up there.”
She climbs onto the bed and lies back against the pillows, parting her legs slightly, and Christ, I’m a goner.
I pull her thong off before I position myself between her legs, spreading her open just for me. I enjoy the view for a few seconds. Her skin is smooth, begging for my touch.
I kiss her neck then her collarbone, making my way down her body. When I reach her breasts and swirl my tongue around each nipple, she sucks in a breath.
“You like that, Kitten?” I bite down gently, just enough for her to feel my teeth.
“Blake,” she groans, lifting her hips.
“Shh. Your parents are downstairs. It’s been an emotional night already. If they know we’re having sex up here, that might be the last straw.” I trail kisses down her flat stomach, my hands tracing a line down both sides.
She has the perfect body, if you ask me. Toned but not so skinny she’s going to break. There’s a softness to her hips, and her ass? Round, tight, amazing.
As I reach the lower edge of her abdomen, she parts her legs farther. Her pussy glistens with moisture .
I swipe two fingers along her slit and hold up the evidence for her to see. “You’re soaked, babe. This all for me?”
“Fuck yes,” she pants out.
Bringing my fingers to my lips, I taste her arousal. “Fucking delicious. Taste how sweet you are, Kitten.”
I gather more on my fingers and tap them against her mouth.
She opens her lips and pulls my fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean.
“Good girl,” I say.
My already-hard dick stiffens further as I imagine her sucking on something else entirely.
Kat bites her lip as I slide my fingers from her mouth. “I don’t know why that’s so hot.”
“It’s because you love letting me take control in the bedroom.” I kiss the apex of her thighs, just above her clit. “You get off on doing what I tell you to.”
I flick my tongue over her clit, earning a moan.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Fuck that.” I flatten my tongue and run it along the length of her slit. “What you like in bed has nothing to do with you being a badass in every other area of your life.” Another long swipe. “You can be the boss bitch in the classroom and on your faculty committees and have the dean by the balls and still love coming home to let me be in charge here.”
A shudder runs through her body. She grabs a pillow and holds it over her face to stifle her moans as I alternate between short, quick movements and longer strokes.
When her thighs start to quiver, I know she’s close. I pull her clit into my mouth and suck as her hips buck and she comes, the pillow muting her cries.
I stay between her legs, my tongue laving her with slow, gentle pressure as she comes down from her orgasm. Her muscles go slack, and she tosses the pillow to the side.
That’s when I finally pick my head up. “How you doing, babe?”
She tosses her head back. “So fucking good, Blake. So fucking good.”
I reach for the nightstand next to the bed, where I stashed a box of condoms earlier. I shed my boxers and roll one on. My dick is so hard it’s painful.
I squeeze the base as I settle back between her legs.
“Take me, Blake,” Kat whispers.
Shaking my head, I notch myself at her entrance. “This isn’t fucking, Kat. It’s more than that.” I slide into her, slow and steady. “I want to make love to you. ”
She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer. “Make love to me, Blake.”
“All night long, Kitten. All night long.”
I move inside her, slow and sweet, our eyes fixed on one another, and it’s so different from how I usually have sex. Before Kat, it was just fucking, and while it was good, there was something missing. I thought I’d found it with Kat.
But this is better even than the other times Kat and I have been together.
We’re not just physically joined.
It’s deeper.
More real.
And I never want to lose this feeling.
This time, we come together, clinging to one another as simultaneous orgasms wash over us, and we stay like that, even as my cock softens inside her, neither of us willing to break the connection.
“Blake?” Kat says softly as we lie together.
“Yeah?” I kiss the top of her head.
“I love you.” She says it simply, without fanfare, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
And maybe it is. Because I’ve realized that I love her, too.
“This is real, babe. And I love you. No matter what happens, I’m here for good.” I roll to my back, pulling her with me so she’s cuddled against my side.
She sets her head on my shoulder.
When her breathing slows, I kiss the top of her head again and pull the cover over both of us before I wrap myself around the most perfect woman I’ve ever known.