Vic is way more enthusiastic than I was expecting. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he loves all things Christmas. We laugh and tease each other as we work, and I almost feel nineteen again when we’re like this. It’s freeing in a way I didn’t know I needed, and I feel myself relax more and more as the morning morphs into early afternoon.
We take a break for lunch and to take Lucky on a quick walk, but all too soon the tree is done.
Vic tugs me back towards the door so we can get a better view. He’s drawn the curtains and turned off the lights, and the effect is... magical. Our tree decorating is by no means perfect, but I think that makes it better.
Our tree.
I like the sound of that way too much.
“Sean.”
I turn to Vic, and he’s got his arm up, holding something over us.
Mistletoe.
“Where did you get that from?”
He smirks. “Sadie slipped it to me when you were paying.”
“Of course she did.”
He steps closer, fingers finding mine. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”
“Never.”
I slip my free hand around his waist, drawing him to me, and we kiss like we have all the time in the world. Like this is something we get to do all the time, yet at the same time, it’s something so very special.
It’s perfect.
Like my tree.
Like this whole day has been so far. And selfishly I wish Vic didn’t have to go and help Hailey this afternoon, because I don’t want to let him go.
And that makes me feel instantly shitty.
For fuck’s sake, Sean, she’s eight months pregnant and the whole reason Vic’s here is to help his best friend/ex-wife and spend time with his son.
“I have to get going soon.” He sounds reluctant and I don’t want that. I don’t want to be the reason he feels that way.
So I smile and kiss him again. “I know. I bet they’re both looking forward to having you there today. Hailey probably has a list of chores a mile long.”
It has the desired effect and Vic chuckles. “I have no doubt. And Joe’s probably been talking to my sister, so I’ll get an update on all the things that Jax has been doing since yesterday.” He rolls his eyes, but I can tell he loves it.
“Come on.” I step back and tug him with me towards the kitchen, but he holds a finger up.
“One sec.”
I watch, confused, until he grabs some Blu-Tack from the box and fixes the mistletoe to the top of the door frame.
“Now I have an excuse to kiss you every time we come in.” His eyes shine with amusement and happiness, and it’s a heady combination.
I should probably tell him he doesn’t need an excuse, but I’m stuck on the last part of that sentence.
Every time we come in.
Before I can obsess over what he meant by that, he’s slipping past me into the hall.
We seem to have leftcasual datingby the roadside, and I’m not sure what we’re doing now, but I know I don’t want it to stop.
