16. Sunny

CHAPTER 16

Sunny

T he day after we basically crash landed, Gray insisted that we do two things. First, he had me call the guy who sold me the plane, whereupon he tore that man a new asshole. Not only did Gray get the company to tow that ‘gremlin–laden piece of shit’ off his field, but they also gave me a full refund.

“No way I am letting those people give you another airplane,” he’d said. “I have a plane, and we’ll just use that.”

Which led to the second thing he insisted—er, heavily suggested—which was that I go up in his plane.

“You have to get back up on the horse immediately, Sun, or it'll become an even bigger thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly.”

Gray would never force me to take the flight, but I knew in my gut that he was right. He surprised me again when he walked me to his hangar and showed me his vintage Piper Saratoga. Not only was it a gorgeous plane, but it also flew beautifully.

And it was a fixed-gear plane, so we didn’t have to worry about the landing gear malfunctioning.

Not that our loop around the town cured all my flying anxiety, but it was a good reminder to not let my fears take over.

Speaking of the town, word quickly circulated that Gray had saved the day and that I’d announced my love for him right after. Joey gave me all kinds of shit the next time we visited the sandwich shop, and Logan pulled me aside to warn me—a little too late if you asked me—that this town will make you fall in love if you’re not careful.

Oh, darn.

After that, everyone we ran into made sure to tell me how glad they were that I’d gone up with Gray because they knew he’d always get me home safe. It made Gray uncomfortable to accept the compliments and well-wishes and comments on our obvious closeness, but he took it in stride.

I suspected that if the gear on my plane had never descended, Gray still would’ve found a way to make sure I was safe. In that vein, the most important event of that night was that he’d said he loved me back.

And I believed him.

We spent the days leading up to Christmas continuing our volunteer streak, and I was getting known around town as the guy who could climb things. I was pretty sure my investors wouldn’t be too happy with the idea of me climbing onto Mrs. Chesterfield’s three-story roof to set up a Santa-and-every-freaking-reindeer installation, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

The festival was over and now it was Christmas morning, with a handsome man kissing my forehead and two dogs licking my cheeks.

“I need at least two less tongues on me,” I joked, cracking open an eyeball.

“Sweetie, Lunchbox, kennel up,” Gray commanded in that low, gravelly morning voice of his. They scrambled off the bed, and I heard them run down the hall into the living room and bang into their kennel.

I hadn’t wanted to tell Gray this, because he had just saved my life, but even though both were fixed, I was pretty sure they had managed to hook up at some point. No way I was going to tell Gray that Lunch had defiled his little lady.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, kissing my temple.

“Merry Christmas.” We kissed briefly, then took turns in the bathroom. I came out to find Santa Claus pajamas on the bed, with Gray wearing a matching set.

“Are we going to be twins on Christmas morning?” I teased.

Gray didn’t seem to mind one bit. “I guess that’s how it goes.”

Laughing, I scrambled to get into the pajamas, which were only slightly too big on me. He knelt in front of me, and I nearly lost my breath. Kneeling forward, he rolled up the hem a couple of times, and I chided myself for being so dramatic.

I mean, it was way, way too soon for anything like that.

But perhaps not too soon to dream about it.

With a smile, he grabbed my hand and walked me into the living room. There were far more presents under the tree than there had been yesterday.

“Santa was busy last night,” I said, wrapping my arm around his waist.

“Maybe someone told Santa that you’ve been a very, very good boy.”

“Someone needs to tell Santa that good boys are often very, very grateful.”

“I’m happy to receive that gratitude anytime,” Gray responded, straightening the collar on my pajamas. “But coffee before presents,” he said, dragging me into the kitchen.

Gray poured my coffee, and I set about fixing it. Before I could take a sip of the addictive elixir, however, he hip-checked me. His eyes flicked toward the dining area. I followed his line of sight and nearly dropped the mug.

He had painted a series of square canvases with the two of us as his main muse.

I pointed to the first one. “Is that when you were a jerk to me when I first got here?”

In it, I was grinning like an idiot, and he was very stern and serious looking.

He grinned. “Yes, it is.”

“I thought you said you didn’t do portraits.”

“Well, these are a little more abstract.”

“Yeah, but I can still tell who they are.”

“Then I did it right,” he said, sneaking a kiss.

The next painting showed us walking the dogs in the snow, my arm wrapped around his. The third was a miniature of the painting he had in his guest room, except the man walking away from the city was no longer alone. He was walking hand-in-hand with me. The fourth showed us looking at the falls, and the fifth was a shot of the two of us in the plane with the sherbet-colored sky behind us.

“I can’t believe you put this up in your house.”

He shook his head. “ Our house. If you’re willing.”

I threw my arms around him. “You couldn’t pry me out of this place.”

So much for trying not to seem needy.

Gray pulled me in for a kiss so fierce I thought it would tear both of us apart. But it didn’t. Like everything else, it only made us stronger.

“I have one more present for you, but it’s out in my workshop. I wasn’t sure where you’d want it to go.”

We put on our slippers and our coats and braved the chilly air outside, following the path from the kitchen door to his climate- controlled workshop. He took another look at me and slid the door open.

My hand went to my mouth as he guided me inside and shut the door behind us.

The piece was as big as the one in the living room, but instead of a cityscape, it was me, laid out on his desk. He’d captured all the intimate details in a mix of all the colors I’d ever seen him use. Something about the way the light touched my body told me how much he loved me. He had to have been as madly in love with me as I was with him to paint something so breathtaking.

“I’ve never been seen by anyone in this way,” I whispered.

“I’ve never looked at anyone this way,” he whispered back.

I swallowed thickly and turned to him, kissing him with everything I had. He responded by pushing me down against a task table, sweeping the brushes and papers and even paints off the surface, pressing us together through the thin material of our pajama bottoms. He seemed lost in the sensation of us, desperate to somehow be closer to me, desperate to kiss and hump, and writhe in the sensations we were sharing. I wrapped my legs around his waist, angling my hips until my eyes were rolling back from the sensation.

“Coming,” I choked out.

“Yes,” he said, rolling his hips, the cloth covered slide between our cocks hotter than it had any right to be. He grunted into my mouth, thrusting his hips, the sound of his orgasm deep and vibrating in my chest. His cock started to slide in his pajamas, and something about that sensation, knowing he’d come all over himself, pushed me over the edge as well. I thrust up again and again angling for relief.

“ Fuck, fuck, fuck. ”

I came hard, which meant we were both slippery and slick in our pajama bottoms.

We both broke down in laughter.

“We are ridiculous,” I declared. “And now we have to run through the backyard like a couple of teenagers.”

“Race ya,” he said, then threw open the door.

“Cheater!” I shouted, pausing for a moment to look at the art he’d created before closing the door behind me.

I ran over the path, catching up with him just as he hit the back door.

“Shower?” he said, popping his brows.

I laughed. “Then, Christmas presents. I can't wait to show you what I got you.”

He pulled back, just a little. “I’m sure I'll love it, but you have to know that the only Christmas present that counts is you, here in my arms.”

We kissed again, laughing, knowing that nothing would be the same.

“Thank you for helping me to love this time of year again.”

“It’s still not my favorite,” he admitted, “but watching you fall in love with Christmas has been one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.”

Maybe we were ridiculous. Maybe we had become the Hallmark movie. But when you find your person, however you find your person, you don't really care what it looks like from the outside.