“I have an early Christmas surprise for you,” Jordan says in the dark.
“Sir?”
I jump at the voice from behind me, on the other side of the bed. “Ahem.”
Leo chuckles as I practically levitate while rolling over to find him. “Master!”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I can’t see him but I feel he’s wearing jeans and a button-up, and he’shereand I don’t have to wait to see him.
“Hello, pet. Hope you don’t mind I showed up early.”
“No, Master.”
Jordan laughs. “We were trying to be quiet so you would be surprised when you woke up.”
“I am surprised, Sir.”
I feel Jordan move. “Light.” I close my eyes and hear him snap on the nightstand lamp on his side of the bed. Behind my closed eyelids I sense the rude intrusion of light.
When I crack my eyes open, I see confirmation that Jordan’s wearing sweats and a T-shirt. “Should I make coffee, Daddy?” he asks Leo.
“Hmm.” He kisses me again. “When do you think his folks will be up?”
“Probably soon.”
“Then go ahead. Bring ours into the bathroom. I’ll get him herded toward the shower.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Jordan leans over me to kiss Leo, then me, before he heads back out.
“Thank you,” I mumble against Leo’s chest.
Another chuckle rumbles from him. “Merry Christmas, pet. Jordan said he suspected your parents wouldn’t mind me being here. And I’ll go with you to mass tonight, too, although I’ll hang with the detail and Jordan.”
“That’s fine.”
This is truly starting to turn into one of the best Christmases ever. I get Jordan, Leo, my parents,andno Stella?
Excellent.
The three of us are sitting out in the kitchen less than an hour later when my parents emerge from their bedroom.
Leo and Jordan both stand at their entrance, which makes me love my men even more.
“Leo, right?” Mom asks him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He starts to offer to shake hands with her but she pulls him in for a hug. “What are you doing these days?”
“Still here in DC and working for President Samuels,” he says. “And for Mr. Bruunt.”
“You’re not spending the holidays with your family this year?”
“No, ma’am. Not this year. They’re out in California. President Samuels and Mr. Bruunt ordered me to take some time off but I really don’t like being too out-of-pocket in case they need me.”
“I didn’t want him to be alone,” I blurt out, fear tightening my throat as I struggle—and lose—to finally confess the truth. I swallow hard against bitter disappointment in my own weak spine. “We invited him to spend it here, with us,” I add.
“Well of course!” Mom says as Dad shakes hands with Leo. “The more, the merrier!”
