“My first white Christmas!” She claps her hands together, beaming. “Oh, Ivan, it’s so beautiful.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She’s right. Cherry Mountain is beautiful. It’s easy to lose sight of shit like that when you live somewhere and see it every day. But this place feels special now Ruby’s here. It’s like I can see it through her eyes, all the magic of it.
This angel is definitely rubbing off on me.
Suddenly she laughs, turning to face me. “I just realized something. We forgot to decorate the tree!”
I look over at the bare fir in the corner. “Didn’t forget, sugar. We just got…busy with other things.”
She giggles. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Let me make you some breakfast. Then we’ll start decorating.”
“Sounds great. Thank you.”
She rises on her tiptoes, pressing a sweet kiss on my lips. I kiss her back, pulling her curves against me, my cock already stirring.
Fuck, I’ll never stop wanting her.
I promised her some breakfast, so I resist the urge to tear off the clothes she just put on. Instead, I head for the kitchen, leaving Ruby on the couch with North. I whip up some French toast with cinnamon, cooking it on the griddle. But I’m not focused. Now that I’m alone, my mind is drifting, getting stuck on the thought that has been needling at me since I woke up.
It’s Christmas Day…
Which means Ruby’s flight leaves tomorrow.
I’ve been pushing it down, praying her flight gets canceled. Or hoping the roads stay blocked, so there’s no way of getting to the airport. Sure, it wouldn’t stop her leaving eventually, but it would give me more time with her. That’s all I want. All I’ll ever want. More time with Ruby.
I try to arrange my expression into something normal before I bring out the breakfast. But my natural scowl is impossible to shake. I can’t stop thinking about Miami. How damn far away it is.
“Thank you!” Ruby says as I set her plate on the table in front of her, the stack of French toast dripping with butter and maple syrup. “Wow, this looks so good.”
She tucks in, but my appetite has suddenly turned to ash in my mouth.
“This is the best French toast I’ve ever had,” Ruby says, humming with appreciation.
“Thanks. My dad’s old recipe.” I push my plate toward her. “Want some of mine?”
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asks, frowning.
“Not really.”
As I load up her plate with my French toast, I feel her eyes on me.
“Are you okay, Ivan?”
My heart tugs at the concern in her voice. I need to get it together. I can’t ruin Christmas for this sweet girl by acting like my usual grumpy self. She deserves better.
“I’m good, sugar.” I force a smile, reaching out to rub a spot of syrup from the corner of her mouth. “You excited to decorate the tree?”
There’s still a crease of worry between her brows, but Ruby goes along with the change of topic. We chat as she finishes her breakfast, and once the plates are cleared, we drag the boxes of decorations toward the Christmas tree.
“There are so many baubles,” she says, rooting through the boxes with a smile. “It’s a good thing the tree is so big.”
“What color do you want?” I look down over her shoulder, peering at the jumble of decorations. “Red and gold? Blue and silver? There’s some pink and white in there, too.”
She’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she grins at me. “Heck, why not all of them?”
“You’re the boss, princess.”
