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Chapter 27

DARCY

* * *

Cole and Ashleigh are coming down Christmas afternoon after spending Christmas Eve in Charlotte with Ashleigh's family. It's strange not having Cole home for the holidays. I suppose that's what happens when you become part of a pair. You share holidays too.

Mom and I stayed up late watching Hallmark Christmas movies until we fell asleep filled with hot chocolate, peppermint pretzels, and holiday love.

Honestly, I'm not mad about them coming late because it lets me surprise Matt this morning at his beach house. I smile when I see a surfer in the water, knowing Matt is in his happy place. I walk down between the dunes, spread out a towel, plop on the sand, and watch him paddle out over the waves. They aren't huge, but they're bigger than I've seen them lately. I bet he's thrilled with the conditions today.

I tuck my knees up into my sweater dress and rest my chin on them while I enjoy the peace of the ocean. This stretch of the beach is empty except for me and a few seagulls cruising above. Closing my eyes, the sun warms my face and I meditate on the sound of the waves. I understand why Matt finds solace here.

A few drops of water fall on my head, and I'm jerked out of my peaceful space. My frown slowly becomes a smile as my surfer guy squats down in front of me with a goofy grin.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl." He kisses me on the tip of my nose. "Did Santa leave you on the beach for me? Because if he did, I must've been a very, very good boy this year." His smile reaches his eyes, and there's a twinkle of mischief there.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and my fingers play with the zipper pull of his wet suit. I kiss him on the nose since that seems to be our holiday greeting and give him a wink. "Well, you've been pretty good this year, slugger. I'm not complaining."

"Me either." He puts my face between his palms and gives me a proper kiss.

Water from his hair drips on my face, and I pull away. I stand up and brush the sand off. "You're cold and wet and in need of a shower."

Matt grabs his surfboard and tucks it under one arm while he reaches for my hand with the other. "Care to join me?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, trying to be suggestive.

"Tempting, but no." I did my hair and makeup today, knowing we'd take pictures when Cole and Ashleigh arrive in a few hours.

He pushes his bottom lip out to pout, and I push him away with a laugh.

"Shower, then I'll give you your present."

"Well, a shower with me sounds like a wonderful gift."

"Nope, not happening. Just pretend to be excited about your actual gift." I struggled with what to get Matt for Christmas. I wasn't sure if we were exchanging gifts, but when I saw the most gorgeous green bedspread, I needed to get it for him.

While Matt takes a shower, I grab his gift and put it on his bed. I know he's just renting, but his house has nothing that says Matt or home. The bedspread pops against the stark white walls, and the pillow shams bring the room to life. I take the few beachy decor items and put them in the closet. His walk-in is pretty empty compared to mine, but I get inspired when I see his jersey.

Looking at the clock, I calculate how long until we need to head to my house and figure I can give him another present this morning.

When Matt opens the bathroom door, steam escapes, and he comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking like he just stepped out of a GQ photo shoot. The water droplets roll down his abs, and I want to lick them all off. Suddenly parched, that water is the nectar of life. He's rubbing a towel over his hair, and when he looks up, his smile lights up the room.

"You like?" I'm lying on his new bedspread, wearing nothing but his unbuttoned jersey. I rub the plush fabric of the bedspread in front of me, inviting him over.

"I like." He swallows, and his lust-filled eyes take me in from head to toe.

"Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Absolutely." He stalks toward me, closing the gap between us.

"Feel it," I encourage.

"Oh, I intend to." He kneels next to the bed and reaches out, letting the back of his fingers trace from my collarbone between my breasts, where the jersey gaps open. The light touch is sensual, sending goose bumps down my arms.

"You're incredible, Darcy Davidson," he whispers. "I'm a lucky bastard that you picked me."

"Oh, Matt, don't you know?" I say breathy. "It's always been you."

"Yeah, I heard a rumor you've had a crush on me for years. Is that true?" His smirk lets me know he's amused.

I roll my eyes and try not to die of embarrassment. "True."

"I didn't know." He sounds sincere and regretful.

"I'm just glad you see me now."

His eyes hood, and he growls, "Oh, pretty girl, I see you."

* * *

"You like the bedspread?"

He chuckles. I'm not sure he noticed the bedspread, but we christened it with a memory that he can hold on to when he's wrapped in it at night.

"It's perfect. But you in my jersey? I think it should be your uniform from now on." His fingers play with the buttons, a contented smile on his face.

"Yeah, not sure that would be a good idea in public." I love the look he's giving me. Total adoration.

"You may be right," he muses. "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you." His lips gently brush mine as he pulls me up.

"Come on, let's get ready. While freshly fucked is my favorite look on you, I don't think Cole or your mom will appreciate it quite as much."

"Always the responsible one, Matt Hartman."

We get dressed, and I notice a painting on the dresser. How did I miss it earlier? Oh, it's because I had sex on the brain and was in a hurry before Matt got out of the shower.

I hold the painting and recognize the building. "It's The Wreck." I smile at the warmth this picture evokes. It's dinner rush at sunset, the shrimp boats coming in, people everywhere, and it's the perfect piece for his room.

"It is. Mom painted it."

"She did? I knew she painted, but this is incredible."

"Yeah, I saw it and asked her if I could buy it from her. I wanted to be her first sale. Her art is amazing, but she hides it in her studio."

"I wonder if she'll let me do something with it?" I'm no art expert, but I like the style and feel.

"You can ask her, I guess. You know what I love about it so much?"

"What?"

"You're in it."

The watercolors blend the features of the people, so I guess he can imagine me there. I spent many of my high school and college years at The Wreck, so it tracks.

"If you say so."

He pulls me back to his chest and reaches to point at a figure. His low voice rumbles in his chest as he whispers in my ear. "Right here, see?"

I look at where he's pointing and laugh. It is me. It's the only spot of red in the entire picture, and it's my shoes.

"Who knew I'd be art?"

"Oh, pretty girl, everything about you is art. Everything."

There's that word again. Everything.

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