21. Dutton

Dutton

T his trip was a disaster. What the hell was I thinking? I don't want to be in California. I don't miss my tiny little apartment. I miss Walker. I want that big house and his big, loud family.

It's Christmas Day, and I'm photographing a nineteen-year-old diva who keeps treating me like I work for her. Because everyone seems to work for her. I don't want to be here.

I was so tired last night, I didn't even get to wish Walker a Merry Christmas at midnight his time. I just passed the hell out as soon as I got to my old apartment—which took me over an hour to get to from the shoot, by the way. At ten o'clock at night.

I miss the town with two stoplights. I was supposed to meet my parents for breakfast this morning, but Little Miss Diva decided she needed the shoot to start three hours early.

Which, honestly, is fine with me. I finish up the shoot, and I book a flight straight home. I'm not supposed to fly out until tomorrow, but I don't want to spend another night not in Walker's arms, and yes, I know that makes me sound clingy, but at the moment, I just don't care.

This job wasn't fun. I didn't feel that normal buzz I do when I'm working. All it was, was longing. I wondered what Mrs.—I mean Rhonda—cooked for dinner. What kind of Christmas Eve traditions she has because she's so warm and kind, I can't imagine she doesn't have at least one.

I wanted to hear my boyfriend's voice and have him kiss my temple. Not have a screeching nineteen-year-old telling me I'm clearly washed up because her face doesn't look like that.

Sorry to say it does—the girl has resting bitch face, if I've ever seen one. Not that it required her to light up or anything, but Jesus Christ, give me something. How she's a top model, I have no idea.

Give me bright and happy over sad and depressing any day.

I lucked into a direct flight, which cost a fortune, but I don't care. I never should have been here in the first place. I was an idiot. I should have fought for us instead of expecting him to do it.

But maybe I needed this closure. Who the hell knows? All I know is I'm on my way home. And it is my home.

After the longest flight of my life because I'm exhausted and wanting to get home so bad—not because of the actual length of the flight—I rent a car and drive the two hours back to Hayes from the airport. I'll deal with the rental car later. Right now, I just want to make Christmas with my man.

I make it there at five minutes till midnight and hope to hell Walker has his phone on when I text him. I tell him to come to the front door, and then I hold my breath and wait. It's cold out here, and I'm thankful I have my coat on.

Yes, I could go to my house—but not without Walker. I need him. I need him to know I tried to get here on time. And when that door opens and he graces the doorway, his hair all messy from sleep in a t-shirt and soft-looking gray sweats, my heart soars. He blinks, rubbing his eyes, and his voice is rough from sleep. "Dutton? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to pick you up at the airport tomorrow evening."

"I couldn't wait," I answer honestly. "Merry Christmas."

I'm slightly nervous he's angry with me for going on this trip, for abandoning him on Christmas, but his big arms just wrap around me, and he pulls me in for a hard hug. "Merry Christmas." His lips move to my ear. "I couldn't ask for a better gift."

"Can I come in? It's fucking freezing."

He chuckles and seems reluctant to let me go—the feeling is mutual—but I'm grateful when he pulls me inside the warm home and closes the door behind us. "What made you come back so early?"

I slowly remove my coat and hang it on the coatrack by the door, my heart thundering in my chest. I've pretty much already decided this is my forever home—it's where I want to be—but actually saying the words out loud, for some reason, that's still terrifying to me.

"You." I go with the safer of the truths—one that's never going to change. "I wanted to be with you."

The right side of his mouth kicks up into a cocky, sexy grin as he folds his arms over his chest. "Is that so?"

"This trip was awful," I say and flop down on his parents' couch. He sits down next to me and pulls me into him, his big, strong arm wrapped around me.

"What happened?" I can hear the worry in his voice. "Are you okay?"

I turn my head so I can look at him, finding his eyes already on me. "I'm okay. It's just..." I take a deep breath and release it, keeping my voice down because I'm sure the house is full of sleeping people. He told me his brother and sister's families stay until after New Year's Day. "I think I've changed."

He frowns. "You don't have to change for me."

I smile and bring one hand up to smooth over the stubble on his cheek. "I know that. I didn't. Not really for you, specifically, and not all at once. It's just, I used to get this incredible high at a shoot. I could do it for hours and deal with the models whining and their agents running around, trying to make them happy by degrading everyone else. I was a pro at dealing with all that."

"I'm sure you still are."

He's always so positive, and it's something I love about him. I drop my hand from his cheek and rest it in his lap. "I am, but I didn't want to be. I wanted to tell the model and her agent to shut the hell up. That the world doesn't belong to them. I wanted to tell them there's a whole world out there, and not everyone is rude and entitled." I look into his eyes and smile. "I thought about this town and the kindness I've felt here. About walking into Lucille's and being greeted by my first name and asked how I've been."

His lips quirk into a smile now. "That is pretty cool."

"I like how you all use each other's last names when we go to Ray's. That you know your bosses so well. That you have friends who'll drop anything to be there in one second flat. I love it here."

He's practically beaming now, but he doesn't gloat or say anything about me staying. He just tugs me closer and kisses my temple. "I'm sorry it didn't go well, but I'm happy you're here."

"You know, I don't think I actually wanted to go in the first place. I think I felt it even before I said yes."

"I missed you. It was sad and pathetic. My whole family had a blast teasing me about it."

I grin because I can imagine they did. "I'm sorry I went."

"I'm sorry I pushed you to go. I just don't want you to give anything up for me. We're a package deal now. I'll go where you go."

I shake my head and snuggle even more into him. "I don't want to go anywhere."

It's the closest I've come to admitting this is my home now, but again, Walker doesn't push. It's not really his style. "No more Christmases apart?" I can hear the tension in his voice, the vulnerability he's feeling asking that.

"No more. I don't want to spend another Christmas without you."

"Good. You want to go to bed? Archie is in there, but he's fast asleep."

My head snaps up to look at him, my eyebrow quirked. "Archie is in your bed?"

His eyes widen comically now, and he shakes his head. "No. My room. He's on a blowup mattress in my room. His parents suck, and my parents pretty much adopted him, but I'll kick his ass out if?—"

I cover his mouth and chuckle at his babbling. "Don't kick your friend out. I'm glad he has your family and you."

I remove my palm from his mouth, and he lets out a deep breath. "Phew. Me too, and just so you know, since you and I are a package deal now, you get Archie too."

I laugh at that, keeping as quiet as I can. "Yay me."

"Come on. We should get to bed. Mom will be waking us up bright and early for French toast." He stands up and takes my hand. "My bed is a twin, so this should be fun."

"I don't mind getting close," I say as he leads me through the quiet house to his bedroom. We try to sneak in, but Archie spots us immediately, holding his hand out for a high five.

"Told you your man would make it."

Walker shakes his head but completes the high five, then leads me to his bed—which is an incredibly tight fit, but we make it work.

"No sex stuff unless you're gonna turn on the light and let me watch," Archie says sleepily.

"Shut. Up," Walker says, pitching a pillow at Archie, who just cackles happily.

I kiss him softly and close my eyes, laying my head on his chest as I drift off to sleep.

No more Christmases apart.