I sigh, perfectly content, and let him hold me while the sun comes up and the rest of the world tries to catch up with us. “Ditto.”
I don’t wantto move from the bed, but eventually, Flint’s stomach growls so loud it fills the room, and I’m pretty hungry myself.
I roll out of bed first, stretching and blinking at the soft blue shadows in the room. Flint eyes me like a wolf about to pounce, but I shake my finger at him. “Food first,” I declare. “Then we can move on to the rest of our presents.”
He just grins, throws on a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, while I pull on the Christmas Snoopy sweats Flint bought me at Wal-Mart. They’re white and covered in little red Snoopys in Santa hats, and I’ve never loved an item of clothing more.
I model them in the doorway, throwing up jazz hands. “What do you think?”
He looks me up and down, lingering on my hips a little too long. “I love the sweats, but I prefer you au ’natural.”
He lunges for me, and I squeal, ducking into the kitchen. I’m fast, but Flint is faster. He catches me around the waist, lifts me off the floor, and plops me right onto the kitchen island like I weigh nothing. He stands between my knees, eyes level with mine, and tugs my waistband like he’s about to check the label.
“You sit here while I make you breakfast,” he tells me, and I open my mouth to argue, but he places his finger on my lips. “Youcooked for me all week long. I want to do this for you.” My heart melts as I watch him get to work.
First, he gets coffee brewing. Then, he pulls out eggs, bacon, and cinnamon rolls in a can from the fridge.
When the coffee maker beeps, I get up and pour us each a cup of coffee. I put a little cream in his before loading mine up with cream and lots of sugar.
I place his mug next to the stove. “Thanks, Sugar Plum.” He takes a big sip of the coffee before leaning over to place a kiss on my nose.
“You’re welcome.” I smack his muscular ass before heading back to my spot at the counter. How in the world did I get this fucking lucky? The universe really did me a solid this time.
This is what happiness looks like.
I sip my coffee while the scent of bacon fills the house. I’m halfway through my mug when the phone rings.
Flint shoots me a look, then wipes his hands on a dish towel and answers.
“Stockton.”
I can only hear one side of the conversation, but it’s pretty clear this is business, not pleasure. “Hey, Dillon. What has you calling me on fucking Christmas?” Oh. It’s the sheriff. My heart squeezes a little in my chest as I wonder if my good luck just came to an end since it must really be an emergency for the sheriff to call today.
Flint listens, his expression darkening and then softening. “Yeah. Got it. Appreciate the call. You too.” He hangs up andturns to me. I’m expecting the worst, but I’m surprised to see a blinding smile break out across his handsome face.
I hold my breath as he tells me, “That was the sheriff.” He pours more coffee, then leans on the counter across from me. “They picked up your Creepy Santa last night. Turns out, the guy is wanted in three states. Bunch of warrants. Child endangerment, fraud, trafficking, and some other shit.”
My jaw drops. Oh, hell. I got so fucking lucky. “No way.”
“Way. He’s not getting out anytime soon.”
The relief is so sudden it nearly knocks me off the counter. “Wow. That’s… good.” Not good that the asshole played his little trick on other women, but great that I don’t have to worry about him coming after me.
Flint shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can tell by the way he keeps glancing at me that it matters. “You’re safe now, Sugar Plum. I won’t ever let anything hurt you again. I promise.”
I nod, my hands suddenly shaky on the coffee mug. All the anxiety I’d been pretending not to feel since that night just vanishes, replaced with the weirdest kind of lightness.
He grabs me and pulls me flush against his chest, his lips crashing onto mine before I even catch my breath. The kiss sends a jolt through me, and when he finally eases back, he presses his forehead to mine. The world narrows down to the heat in his gaze. My words tumble out, soft and certain. “Everything is just perfect.”
Instead of answering right away, he laughs—a low, rough sound that vibrates through me as he holds me tighter, like he can’tget me close enough. “It’s only going to get better, Sugar Plum. I have plans for you.”
His words make me shiver, anticipation buzzing at the base of my spine. “What kind of plans?”
He grins, wicked and warm, and his hand finds mine. “I’m going to put my ring on your finger and my baby in your belly.”
Merry Christmas to me.
EPILOGUE
