9. A Full Heart

A FULL HEART

T he scent of coffee rouses me from a delicious dream involving Reece and a blindfold. I blink awake to see Reece sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, a Santa cap on his head at a jaunty angle. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants, which makes my pussy clench and drip. God, the man is hot as sin. Especially because he has a mug of coffee in each hand.

I sit up, tucking the blanket under my arms, and take the mug from him. "Hi," I whisper, "you're hot."

He grins, and even after three and a half weeks with him, his smile still takes my breath away. I wonder if it always will. "Merry Christmas," he says.

"Merry Christmas." I sip coffee, sighing happily. "Thank you for coffee, honey."

"My pleasure." He sits there, sipping coffee and just looking at me.

"What?" I ask, laughing. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugs. "I just can't believe how this Christmas turned out. I came here to hide from myself, my life, my mistakes, the press, everyone. And instead, I found you. I found the love of my life. And I’m just trying to figure out how the hell it happened."

"Christmas miracle?" I suggest. "Because I feel the same way."

"A Christmas miracle," he agrees. "So. You wanna open presents?"

I nod. "I do have something for you. It’s not…it's kinda dumb, so don’t get too excited."

He laughs. "We can compare after we've opened them and see which is dumber. Because I'm pretty sure I'll win."

"I don't know about that," I say. "But I guess we'll see, won't we?"

I take another sip of coffee and then toss the blankets aside. Reece hungrily stares at my naked body, eyes heating.

I hand him my coffee and wriggle to the other side of the bed. "Don't you look at me like that, Reece Morgan. Start that, and we'll never open presents."

"Then put something on that sexy little body of yours," he says. "Because I make no promises beyond the next thirty seconds. All bets are off after that."

I decide to have fun with it. I crawl on all fours across the bed, presenting my bare ass to him as I make for the edge of the bed. I'm rewarded with a growl and his knuckles going white around the mug.

"Lil," he warns.

I just giggle and hop off the bed, bending at the waist unnecessarily as I pull a pajama set out of the drawer, turning to face him as I tug on the bottoms, making sure to wiggle extra so my tits bounce for him.

He's taken to calling me Lil lately, which is a new nickname for me and one I quite like. Not only is it a further shortening from Lily, but it’s also a play on the fact that I'm tiny. It's cute and it's ours.

Once I'm dressed, I flounce over to him and wrap my arms around him from behind, kissing his neck and jaw. "Presents!"

He stands up and I hold on, slinging my legs around his waist, letting him carry me piggyback into the main living area.

All the lights are off except the ones on the tree, bathing the room in a multicolored glow. He's built up the fire already, adding the orange dance of the flames to the ambiance. He deposits me on the couch and hands me my coffee.

I cross my legs on the couch, and he settles a throw blanket over my lap and then kisses the top of my head. "Hold on a moment."

I watch him swagger into the kitchen, admiring his broad back and the rippling acres of muscles, and the trim line of his lean hips and the hard bubble of his muscular ass. God, I got so lucky. The man is the finest thing I’ve ever seen—and he claims this is him "letting himself go" since he's not working on a physique for a particular role.

He comes back with a plate of blueberry muffins. "I found a box of muffin mix in the pantry and whipped 'em up."

I take one, peel the wrapper off the bottom, and take a bite. "Damn, baby, how long have you been up?"

He shrugs. "A while. This is the first Christmas I’ve been actually excited about in fuckin' decades, so I couldn’t sleep." He plops down next to me and eats half his muffin in one bite.

"Same." I take another bite and wash it down with coffee.

He finishes his and then kneels down at the tree and grabs a package wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine. My heart melts a little because he obviously took a lot of time and effort trying to wrap the thing, and he did a pretty good job for a straight man who probably has never wrapped anything in his life.

He grins sheepishly. "I suck at wrapping. That’s the best I could do, and it still took six tries."

I brush my thumb over his lips, wiping away crumbs. "It's perfect, Reece."

He swallows nervously. "Open it." He sighs. “Just…well, never mind. Just open it and I’ll explain after."

I set my coffee and half-finished muffin on the coffee table and untie the twine, then carefully unwrap the paper. Inside is a shield-shaped plaque carved from wood, sanded smooth. Wood burned into the face of the plaque is the iconic image of Lady Justice, the classic standard of lawyers everywhere—a blindfolded woman wearing robes, holding scales in one hand and a sword in the other. Beneath the image of Lady Justice—which has been done rather skillfully, the lines clean and the image clear—is my name in large block letters: Lilith Thompson, Esq. Below that is more text: Badass lawyer.

I look at him. "You made this?"

He nods, looking more nervous than ever. “Yeah. Like, the first week. I wasn't sure if I was even gonna give it to you—it's kinda dumb, I know. Or maybe a lot dumb. But we haven't exactly had a chance to do a lot of shopping, and I'm still figuring out what you'd like, and…" he's babbling. Reece Morgan is babbling because he's nervous.

I cover his mouth with my hand. "I love it, Reece. Truly. You made it for me. It came from the heart. It means something. It means more than diamonds or Birkins."

He sags in relief. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely. It's not dumb at all. It's sweet and thoughtful and I'm gonna hang it in my office, wherever that ends up being. And I’ll proudly tell anyone who asks that my hot-shit boyfriend made it for me, and they'll be jealous." Now it's my turn to be nervous. "Which makes what I got you even stupider."

I grab the two little packages and hand them to him. He opens one—a camouflage baseball cap. The other is a pair of cheap mirrored aviator sunglasses.

I laugh at the confused look on his face. "See? Stupid. It's the official disguise of famous men—a ballcap and sunglasses. And with the camo hat, they really won't be able to see you." I laugh, covering my face with both hands. “God, it's so stupid."

He wraps his arms around me and hauls me onto his lap. "It's not stupid. It's thoughtful and cute and funny."

"And stupid."

"It's not!" He laughs. "With these and maybe grow a beard, I'll be golden."

I pull back and rub his jaw. "I like a beard. But a short one. No big, bushy mountain man beards, please. That's my only request."

He chuckles. "I can handle that." He kisses me until my toes curl. "Lil, for real. I don't care about things. I have cases full of high-end watches. I have ties in every color. I have custom suits. Imported shoes. I had a couple million dollars worth of cars, and I sold them all but two—the truck out there and a vintage Aston Martin convertible. I've had fancy houses. I don't care about any of that. The greatest, most valuable gift I could ever get is you . Being loved and accepted by you fills me with so much joy and gratitude that I feel like I could burst."

My eyes burn as I lean into him, nodding against his chest. "You said exactly what's in my heart. I grew up pretty well-off. I have a good job that pays very well. I have always had nice things. But none of that matters if you're lonely, and I'm realizing that I was—I was so lonely, Reece. When I had that emergency hysterectomy, I didn't have anyone to…to help, to care of me. And then my condo flooded and calling Nathan was literally the only option other than living out of a hotel for however many months. And I just couldn’t. I had to get away. So I came here. You know how desperate you have to be to call your dead sister’s husband?"

"About as desperate as you have to be call a friend you haven't spoken to in months," he says.

"Exactly." I look up at him. "And then you pulled in with your big black truck, and you changed my life. You changed me .”

"We changed each other…for the better."

"Much better."

We cuddle in silence on the couch for a while, watching the fire flicker and the day grow bright.

"So, now what?" Reece asks. "What do you want to do with the day?"

"I want to walk around the little town down the road. I want a big unhealthy breakfast. And then I want to come back here and get in bed with you and watch Christmas movies all day."

"That sounds pretty damn perfect to me, my love."

My love

Can my heart get any more full?

Turns out it can.

The village is even more adorable on foot than I'd thought it would be. A lot of the little shops and such are closed, of course, since it's Christmas Day, but there's a greasy spoon diner open, and all the employees are wearing Santa hats and Christmas music is playing, and It’s A Wonderful Life plays on a TV over the bar, muted. I get a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and a side of bacon, and Reece gets…well, pretty much everything on the menu: an omelet, toast, oatmeal, bacon, a side of pancakes, and a little bowl of fruit.

When I remark on the amount of food, he grins. "I plan on burning a whole lot of calories later," he says, his eyes burning with desire.

My stomach tumbles and my core pulses with damp heat.

Reece pays, tipping exorbitantly, and we leave the restaurant, ambling around the little village for a while. A gaggle of grade school kids rush past us at one point, ice skates hanging over their shoulders, bouncing as they run, chattering excitedly. On impulse, we follow them to a cute little park a few blocks away from the downtown area. A tennis court has been flooded and turned into an ice rink, and the local sports resale shop is renting skates out of an ice fishing shanty set up next to the rink.

We rent skates and wobble around the rink together for an hour or so, laughing and tripping each other. I fall several times, ending up with a cold, wet, and sore butt—and a promise from Reece to give it a very thorough massage later.

We return our skates and head for the truck, only to pass a group of carolers on the steps of a church, a small crowd gathered to listen. We join the crowd to listen, holding gloved hands, breath steaming as the light of the day fades to evening. Finally, we go back to the cabin. Reece builds the fire back up while I make hot chocolate, and then we crawl into bed together. I curl up at his side, cheek on his chest, his arm around me, heartbeat under my ear, and we watch White Christmas as a light snow flurries outside.

Best Christmas Ever.