Chapter 16

16

Later that evening Cath found herself hunkered down on the couch while Kris sorted through the collection of holiday movies available for them to watch. With the critical eye of a connoisseur, he flipped through the list, dismissing Home Alone as “too kiddish,” A Christmas Carol as “overdone” and White Christmas as “just plain sappy.” Cath watched amused as he scrolled through the selections with a dead serious look on his face, scrutinizing their options like it was a professional responsibility.

She leaned over and swiped the bowl of popcorn off the coffee table, settling it on her lap and popping some of the kernels into her mouth in impatience. “Kris, just pick something please or I swear I’m going to eat this whole bowl of popcorn myself in the meantime.”

“I never take movie choices lightly.” His gaze roamed over the list on her television as he spoke. “It’s all about the right movie, for the right viewing experience and the right mood.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.” Cath said cheerfully, setting the popcorn aside. She slid over to where he sat and rested her head on his shoulder.

He tapped a finger off her nose playfully in censure and switched streaming services to see what the other options available were. “Hey, I don’t knock the way you choose your guns on the field, don’t knock my vast expertise of all things movie related.”

“Vast expertise?” Cath rolled her eyes in jest and needled him playfully. “You can’t be serious.”

“I totally am.” He tapped his temple “I’m like an encyclopedia babe –”

“Of hot air,” she teased, grabbing the popcorn and flicking a kernel of popcorn at him. Seeing it coming, he ducked his head and caught it cleanly in his mouth. Cath hid the fact she was slightly impressed behind a scowl and turfed another kernel at him, hitting him cleaning in the center of the forehead with her improvised weapon of choice.

“I’m serious. I have a foolproof science.” He insisted. As usual refusing to let the point he was trying to make go. “It’s never failed me on dates be–”

Cath raised an eyebrow, watching as he ducked his head awkwardly, catching himself before he could finish his sentence. “ It’s never failed me on dates before” She waited, holding in her laughter, watching as he tried to figure out how to extract himself and move the conversation on. After a moment she decided to let him off the hook gracefully. She rested her hands flat on his chest in a placating gesture. “Kris, relax. It’s not like I didn’t know you’d slept with half of Hollywood before we got together. Everyone’s got a past, yours is so colorful it’s neon, and it’s all public domain. I’d never hold that against you.”

“It’s more like a third actually, even I have some standards.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck, and she couldn’t help noticing the color creeping into his cheeks. “I’d chalk it up to being young, rich, and dumb, but the truth is I enjoyed every minute of it, probably way too much.”

“Again, not new information, I have eyes and the last time I checked my sight was perfect. I didn’t come into this relationship blind,” she reminded him. “Although, if you want to keep going on the subject, I do enjoy watching you stick a very expensive shoe in your mouth.”

“I’m one hundred percent certain I can find much more enjoyable things to do for you with my mouth.” He trailed his lips along her ear and shoulder, pausing to tickle the skin at the base of her neck, causing her to shiver.

She playfully pushed him away and he caught her hand, pressing kisses to her wrist and arm. She let him draw her in again, and he resumed his casual progress, pushing the strap of her tank top out of the way as he teased her skin. Cath was about to settle in and enjoy the sensation when something on the television caught her eye.

“Oh!” She gently disengaged from his arms and reached for the remote as he made a noise of dismay. “That one, it’s the perfect movie for tonight!”

“What?” Kris leaned back against the couch and surveyed the screen. “ National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation ? Seriously?”

“Absolutely, it’s hilarious.” She clicked the remote and set the film up to begin. “When I was at the academy, it was the annual Christmas tradition in my squad to watch it to celebrate our winter exams ending. We used to drink our way through it and come out the other side absolutely blasted.”

“And you say I consistently surprise you with the things I say.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to picture you blasted, even when we’ve been out drinking together you always seem so… controlled.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cath laughed, waving the remote in her hand like she was gesturing to a bullet list. “Between formal parties, promotions, retirements and the military ball, I’m pretty sure Special Forces has turned drinking into an elite art form. What you’ve seen is years and years of survival training, not to mention a lot of mornings I’d rather not remember.”

“I see you awful mornings and raise you A-List parties,” Kris pointed out as he stole a handful of popcorn. “Hollywood likes to pre-drink before you pre-drink and the parties are… a hell of a lot of fun to be honest. I haven’t been to one in a long time though.”

Cath swiped her mug of eggnog off the coffee table and took a sip, then set the mug back and leaned into him, nuzzling her face in his neck. “Why not?”

“I found better places I wanted to be.” He pulled her across his lap and draped her legs over his. “And much better company to spend my nights with.”

“That’s a good answer.” She tilted her head up and kissed him deeply, feeling his arms tighten around her as she pressed herself against him.

“I thought you’d like it.” He stroked his hands along her sides, running them under her tank top and along the edge of her leggings. “You better start the movie before we get distracted again, one more time and I’m going to call it for the night and carry you off to bed.”

Cath slid his lap and grabbed the remote then paused and gave Kris a sly smirk. “How do you feel about playing a little game to go along with the movie?”

‘The last time you gave me a look like that I wound up running around the woods barefoot, at night, with a paintball gun. And you wound up with no clothes on.” Kris cocked his head and smiled. She could tell from the look on his face, he was thinking about that night, the two of them cuddled together on a blanket on the beach, just them, a bonfire, and the night sky.

“Play your cards right and tonight may end just as good.” Cath slid off the couch and disappeared for a moment, running to the kitchen, and then returned to the living room with the bottle of rum that they had grabbed at the grocery store earlier in the day, along with two shot glasses.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Kris watched as she tossed a couple of throw pillows down next to the coffee table and motioned for him to join her sitting on the cushions, backs against the couch and feet tucked under the table.

“A drinking game, both of us putting our money where our mouths are.” Cath took the cap off the bottle and poured two shots. “I haven’t done this in years but it’s how we used to do it when we watched this at the academy.”

She stopped to think for a moment, trying to recall memories she hadn’t thought of as years. “Basically, you drink every time something happens and whoever is still on their feet, proverbially speaking, wins. I used to have a list but that was eons ago.”

“That’s what the internet is for.” Kris googled the idea on his phone and quickly pulled up a list, reading aloud a list of roughly a dozen reasons to drink ranging from Clark Griswold’s meticulous Christmas plans being screwed up to his children’s litany of complaints, to anytime Cousin Eddie said or did something outrageous. The coup de grace was taking a double shot when the squirrel appeared in the Christmas tree and when Aunt Effie’s cat met his electrically charged demise.

Cath jumped up and retrieved the decoration and at his motion, attached it to the corner of the flat screen.

“Perfect. Any time it looks like someone is wearing the hat, we take a sip out of our shot glasses.” He stopped and gave her a considering look. “You do realize that if we drink like this, we’ll probably wind up with no clothes on, doing very dirty things to each other.”

“God, I hope so.” She scooted close to him, running her fingers through his hair and felt him shiver slightly. Pressing a kiss to his neck as she picked up the remote. “If I remember correctly, that was most of the fun.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” Kris looped an arm around her shoulders. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, I’ll take it. Oh, first Santa hat!”

They both watched the screen when Chevy Chase appeared, standing at the right angle so it looked like he was wearing the hat. Cath picked up her shot and downed it, feeling the sweet burn of the rum down her throat. She watched as Kris did the same, squinting as the burn of the alcohol hit him, and coughing to clear his throat.

“Amateur.” Cath ribbed, sticking her tongue out at him. “There’s an uncomfortable laugh from Clark, drink.” She took a shot and refilled her glass before passing the bottle to Kris so he could refill his.

“Rusty is complaining.” He gestured to the screen as he raised his shot glass. “Take a shot, Lieutenant Colonel.”

She gave him a playful salute and in a moment of bravado, down the rest of her shot easily, tapping the empty glass on the table three times in a staccato rhythm, and then topped herself off again in one smooth, flawless gesture. “Mission objective achieved.”

“How are you doing that without gagging?” Kris made a face and took a shot out of his glass then winced. “I never thought I’d admit it, but I think I may be too old for this.”

“Two words: Grog. Ceremony.” She wrinkled her nose and gave a visible shudder. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had to take shots out of a punch bowl filled with mystery booze, ground coffee, cough syrup and hot sauce.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.” Kris’s look of revulsion made her laugh. “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s tradition ,” Cath gestured to the screen where Clark was having a panic attack over his Christmas bonus and they both took a shot. “Survival of the fittest. We work hard, we play harder. We have no choice; sometimes it comes down to what takes the stress off.”

Kris finally began to realize what he was up against when the squirrel appeared on screen and Cath down two shots quickly then waited with a sweet smile for him to catch up. He gave her a look of comedic horror and eyed the emptying liquor bottle on the coffee table. “Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?”

Cath leaned over and captured his lips with hers, reaching up and dragging her fingers through his hair as she drew him to her in a messy kiss. “I think it’s called the pro league.”

“I am in so much trouble, and I am going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.” He groaned against her lips then settled back contentedly as she fed him a shot from her glass.

“Damn straight sweetheart,” She grinned, feeling the mellow buzz of the rum starting to filter through her senses. “Now, bottoms up.”

Half a movie, and many, many shots later, a wobbly Cath made her way to the kitchen to see what else they had to do shots with and to grab them each a bottle of water. A Christmas morning hangover was a gift neither one of them wanted. Considering that the bottle of rum was at the bottom, it was a distinct possibility that their lazy day tomorrow would turn into a recovery day if they weren’t at least moderately proactive.

“I can’t believe you drank most of that bottle of rum!” Kris’s voice from the living room was aghast.

Cath pulled her head from the cabinet where she normally stashed her booze and looked back towards the living room. “I did not! You put a good dent in it as well.”

She returned to surveying the other liquor she had on hand, a bottle of gin, a bottle of vodka, a Twenty-year-old scotch she only took a shot out of every time she got a promotion, and the rest on offer was mainly beer. She took out the bottle of vodka and set it on the counter and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. She was on her way out of the kitchen when the red and green gingerbread boxes on the kitchen table caught her eye, and she stopped to stare at them. “Kris, come in here for a moment.”

He appeared in the doorway with a curious expression on his face, watching from the doorway as she opened the boxes and began to lay the various pieces of the kits out on her kitchen table. “What’s up? Are we abandoning them to the Christmas level of Dante’s Inferno?”

“They’ll survive, I found something better.” She eyed up the kit’s contents, enough gingerbread pieces between the two boxes for them each to make a house, a ton of peppermints and assorted candies, and pre-portioned icings in piping bags in shades of green, red and white. She set the bottle of vodka on the table and poured herself a shot, downing it before offering him the bottle. “This will be much more entertaining in the long run.”

“You mean we’ll be able to see them in the morning and ask what the hell we were doing in our drunken state?” Kris pulled off his shirt and tossed it over a kitchen chair so he wouldn’t get icing on it. The toned muscles of his chest rippled reflexively as he stretched his shoulders free of the material. Cath felt a current of heat shoot through her as he flexed his shoulder and tried to work the stiff muscles. She lost her train of thought, becoming completely distracted with a piping bag in her hands as she dragged her eyes over him, not even trying to hide the obvious fact she was eyeing him up.

He gave her a devilish smile and wagged a finger at her. “Hey sweetheart, my eyes are up here.”

She shook her head and leaned against the table, popping a peppermint into her mouth as he sauntered across the kitchen to stand in front of her. “There is not a chance in hell I’m not going to ogle you freely when I can, sorry.”

“And there is not a chance in hell I won’t let you, any time you want.” He followed her lead and popped a peppermint in his mouth. He cupped the back of her neck and dragged her in for a kiss, sweeping his tongue across her mouth and she tasted fresh peppermint, along with the burning faint traces of rum.

Damn the man could kiss! He held nothing back; the concept wasn’t even on his radar, and she loved it, loved every moment of being pressed against him, feeling her stomach go weightless as he bruised her lips with the intensity of his kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned into him, bumping into the table hard with a wince as the bone of her hip hit the wood. “Owww.”

He pulled back, reaching down to rub the spot tenderly and then bent down and pressed his lips to her hip bone. “There, all better.”

“Well, it’s better than most army medics I’ve seen.” She picked up two pieces of gingerbread and measured them against each other then swapped one out. She began to methodically lay out the pieces like a puzzle so she could see what went where.

“High praise.” Kris grabbed a section of gingerbread and took a bite then pulled a chair out and straddled it as she moved the rest of the pieces away protectively.

“Hey! I think that was part of the roof, now there will be a hole.” She gave him a reproving glance as he gingerly set the segment down again.

He gave an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders and began opening the sealed packs of candy. “I’m a fan of modern architecture, I gave the place a skylight, it’ll raise its resale value.”

Cath stared at him for an instant then slid the vodka bottle closer and poured herself a shot. Without a word she poured another for Kris and set it in front of him then took a seat at the table. She had a funny feeling they were both going to need it before they were through.