“If you insist.” I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing each of her knuckles before finally moving away.
I have to rearrange my cock in my jeans so I can get restarted on the damn tree.
It takes about forty-five minutes, between dance breaks and laughter, for Ellyn and I to assemble and decorate the tree.
“This tree is truly spectacular,” Ellyn says, standing back to admire the lake-blue and white tree.
“I pull this one out every other year,” I tell her. I feel her eyes on my profile, but I keep my attention on the tree. “Since my grandson insisted on an artificial tree for everyone in the family, I chose to buy two. One year I do the traditional green, and the next I do this one.
“It prevents boredom,” I say, meeting her gaze.
But then my eyes get stuck on hers. The lights on the tree and around it make the gleam in her eyes shine even brighter. She’s mesmerizing.
“Why are you such a fan of Christmas?” Ellyn asks out of the blue.
It’s not like I hadn’t been expecting the question at some point. I know the way I come across. Single widower whose kids are out of the house. And some might say, a bit grumpy.
I’m not the typical profile of someone to lead the charge when it comes to Christmas spirit.
Turning back to the tree, I allow my mind to go back to the memories of almost two decades ago.
“I promised Gina,” I say, my voice low but strong. “Before she died, she made me promise to keep up the traditions we’d builtover the years. For the boys. She was particularly adamant about Christmas.”
“A promise,” she repeats as if in understanding.
“To be truthful, I wasn’t all that convinced I would keep it. That first Christmas after she was gone, my heart hurt too damn much to get out of bed in the morning, let alone make a big deal out of the holidays.
“But the words I’d promised her kept ringing in my head. It made me go out and buy new decorations. I couldn’t bear using the same ones we’d bought together and laughed and hung up around the house before she got sick.
“Even on Christmas Day, after staying up all night, wrapping gifts for the boys, I wasn’t convinced. My heart ached fiercely. But then I heard Gabe laugh.”
I stop to look over at Ellyn.
“It was the first time I heard him laugh in months. For a moment on Christmas morning my youngest son forgot that his mom wasn’t here. He was happy for the first time since she died. I noticed a smile on all three of my boys’ faces that morning.
“Even Micah, who was already grown and out of the house, working as a Texas Ranger at the time.
“Since then, they smile more and have grown families of their own, which has only grown all of our hearts, but I’ll never forget the happiness that shone through on that first Christmas.”
Ellyn looks at me before moving closer and wrapping her arms around my waist, hugging me. A calm spreads over my body when she lays her head against my chest.
“You’re a good man, Joel Townsend.”
I tighten my hold around her body and kiss the top of her head. How Ellyn knew I needed to hear those words I don’t know.
“I need to find out whoever your real estate agent is,” I say.
Her head pops up and she looks at me with a wrinkle between her brows.
“So I can send her a bouquet of flowers or whatever she likes for showing you the house next to me.”
I press a kiss to her forehead.
When she lowers her head again, a contentment washes over me. This is the first time in the nearly two decades since I lost my wife that I’ve ever pictured a woman walking down the aisle in a white gown while I waited for her.
I look forward to the day when I make Ellyn Chamberland, Ellyn Townsend.
CHAPTER 22
