Tom kept her in his arms, but managed to open the front door. “As much as I like kissing you, I’m over chilly weather.”
He eased her inside and walked with her to the living room. She started to complain – she still had her coat on. Then she saw the presents under the tree.
She dropped her purse on the sofa and shrugged out of her coat. “Oh, honey! The tree turned out amazing, didn’t it?”
Eyes on the decorations, he clasped her hand. “If I haven’t reminded you lately, I’m thankful you came back from San Francisco with me, married me, and stayed with me.” He kissed her brow and took their coats.
She shimmied out of her best boots, moved her purse to the table behind the sofa, and snooped at the presents under the tree. “Hmm, seems like you did a lot of shopping.” She eyed the deep midnight blue wrapping paper and counted. Twelve gifts. “What in the world did you find for me?”
“Hold on. Do you want coffee, hot chocolate, or milk to go with the cookies?”
“Milk, please.”
He disappeared into the kitchen. She made herself comfortable on the sofa and pulled a red throw over her legs. He came back with two glasses of milk and a plate of Christmas cookies and fudge balanced in his hands. He smoothly set the drinks and treats on the coffee table.
“Thanks for all the gifts.” He leaned across her knees for a kiss.
She pointed a finger at him. “You’re not supposed to guess what they are. It’s not fair, and not all of mine to you are under there.”
“What are you worried about? That I’ll get it right?”
She widened her eyes. “Yes!”
He laughed low and deep. “It’s my superpower.”
“It’s my cross to bear. You start. Go pick one for me to open.”
He walked to the tree and squatted to sort the packages. He lifted a sizeable one and brought it to the coffee table. “Drink your milk, honey.”
She huffed, then lifted her glass for a drink. Throwing off the blanket, she tore at the wrapping paper. She’d never been a neat present opener. The box underneath was a plain white. “Not giving anything away, huh?”
“Nope. Here.” He opened his Swiss Army knife and sliced the tape.
She opened the flaps, tossed the bubble wrap to the floor, and froze. The Tiffany stained glass lamp shade was packed tightly in the top. “Oh, Tom!” The lampshade glowed like a captured jewel, the mosaic colored in cobalt and sapphire glass. Dragonflies with wings stretched on a ribbon of bronze, their eyes opals. It caught every bit of color around it and reflected back the beauty.
“You wanted a better light to read in bed.”
“Is this an antique?”
“Yes, a replica, though. The authentic Tiffany ones are a bit pricey. I found this one at an estate sale. Matches our bedroom furniture.” The gorgeous panes could easily inspire a painting.
“Thank you. I’m stunned.”
“I couldn’t buy a cheap one. Do you not know me at all?”
“Well, I left it to you to decide. This was a wise choice.” She leaned over and kissed him, lingering for a moment to keep the connection.
Tom pulled away and cleared his throat. “My turn?”
“Yes, the one on the left. The bigger one with the red wrapping paper.”
He groaned when he hefted the box. “Concrete, right?”
She laughed, marveling she could be so excited to just give gifts this year. “Nope.”
He set the box on the coffee table and carefully removed the paper. It was amazing they got along. She was a ripper and he was a folder. She didn’t try to contain the wide smile on her face. “Hurry up.”
“I got it.” He paused at the white box. “You did this on purpose.”
