“Damn straight.”
I giggle, looking at him. His beard is still damp from my arousal, his gray-brown hair all mussed up where I was grabbing at it. It makes him look even sexier. But what I notice most of all is the warmth in his eyes as he looks at me, his permanent scowl softening. When his lips tug into a smile, it feels like I just received a rare gift.
I bet not many people can say they’ve seen Ivan smile.
“Now we somehow have to make Christmas Day even better,” I say, beaming at him.
“I’m sure we’ll find a way, Candy Cane.”
“I like your confidence, Mr. Grinch.”
His lip quirks again, then he kisses me gently.
“My sweet girl.” He mutters the words so quietly that I’m not sure he even meant for me to hear. But my pulse flutters as I wrap my arms around his neck, shifting my weight on his lap. He winces, features tightening for a fraction of a second.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Shoot, am I squashing you?” I quickly get off him.
“Hey.” He grabs me, pulling me back onto his lap. “Of course you’re not squashing me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’re not going anywhere, sugar. I like having you on my lap.”
“But you were in pain just then…”
Ivan frowns, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Don’t worry about it. Just an old leg injury.”
I nod. He mentioned it the other day. The same pained expression had crossed his face then, too. This time, it seemed to happen when I put weight on his left leg.
“How did you injure it?” I ask, keeping my weight on his right leg instead.
“Crashed my truck a while back. Shattered my thighbone.”
“Oh, crap.” A knot of concern forms in my stomach. “That sounds awful.”
“Yeah, it was pretty bad. Still got a rod in my leg, keeping it all together.” I see his jaw tighten as he adds, “The damn metal gets cold as hell in winter. Always worse this time of year.”
I remember how he went outside in freezing weather to check on me this morning. How he went out again shortly after just to bring me a Christmas tree. He must have been in agony.
“I’m so sorry, Ivan.” I press a kiss on his stubbled cheek, my heart welling with affection and sympathy. “It must have been a pretty serious crash. How did it happen?”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the fire as he weighs his words. His scowl is back in place.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” I tell him. “Sorry for prying.”
“Don’t apologize, sugar.” He lets out a deep sigh, threading his fingers through mine. “It happened two years ago, a few days before Christmas. My parents had just passed. Hell, I was literally driving back from their funeral when it happened.”
I squeeze his hand, hanging onto every word.
“A snowstorm started while I was on the highway. Came out of nowhere. A semi-truck up ahead skidded on some ice. Jackknifed. But it was a total whiteout, so no one saw it ‘til it was too late. Caused a huge pileup. Fifty cars in total, but I was one of the first.” He rubs an agitated hand over his beard as he continues, “I managed to swerve and avoid the semi, but hit a guardrail instead. That’s what broke my leg. Never felt pain like it. Then someone went straight into the back of me. Someone else went into the back of them. And it just kept on going like that. Couldn’t see a fucking thing. Couldn’t see the hood of my own damn truck.”
My stomach sinks. It must have been a living nightmare, trapped on the highway with a broken leg, blinded by snow while cars smashed together on all sides. I can’t even imagine the horror. The fear.
“Eight people died, including the guy who went into the back of me. Another thirty were injured. Took months of physical therapy for me to walk, but my leg was never right again.” He cuts off, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t complain, I was one of the lucky ones.”
“Oh, Ivan.” I hold him tight. “Of course you can complain. You went through hell. But you came out the other side, and I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“Thanks, sugar. I’m doing better now. Don’t think about the accident too much.” He rests his head against mine. “Made me dread the holidays, though. Never felt like celebrating after that. December was always just a shitty reminder of the crash and the month my parents died.”
