“Wellesley,” his voice sharpens. “Get back here.”
I turn and run into the woods as fast as the deep snow and my boots will allow.
It doesn’t take long for Piers to follow me. “This is ridiculous. If you think you’re going to?—”
I sock him with a snowball. It hits his perfect cheek and fills his open mouth. He sputters and recovers quickly, but I have plenty of ammunition at hand. I hit him again and again,laughing like a maniac. Finally, he gives up trying to dodge the snowballs and rushes me, and I run shrieking.
He chases me around the forty-foot fir tree. I’m laughing too hard to move fast, but I zigzag and avoid him until my boots betray me. He tackles me, and we both go down. Somehow, he cushions my fall, so I end up on top of him. Snow crusts his brows and wool coat, and his Santa hat is askew. He’s never looked more amazing.
I’m about to tell him that when he reaches up and grabs a fir tree branch, showering us with snow.
“You asshole,” I sputter. My face is already numb, but I know the snow is cold.
“I am an asshole,” he says. “One might even say an ogre. But you can take it.”
“You’re my ogre,” I agree, and let him draw my head down to his for a kiss. By the time we’re done, his dick is poking into me through all my layers, and I’m warm enough to pull off my HoudZou and roll in the snow.
“Do you forgive me, darling?”
“I do. For everything. Because… I love you.”
He looks stunned.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I say quickly. “I figure you’ll need some more remedial lessons from Sandra before you figure out all your feelings.”
“I do, but not for this. I love you, Wellesley. I didn’t know it. I just knew I didn’t deserve you. I still don’t deserve you, but I can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else.” I lick my lips, feeling happy but scared, a rush of giddy fear like I get when I stand in a top-floor penthouse looking down over Manhattan. “It’s you, Piers. It’s always been you.”
“It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.” He kisses the shit out of me until I’m shivering but not from the cold.
“You want me,” I say happily.
“I do. I want you for Christmas. But not just for Christmas. I want you every night and every morning. I want you grouchy, and I want you sweet. I want you in the hot tub and the shower. And in bed. And in front of the fireplace.”
“Let’s do it. Right now.” I roll off him, and he helps me up, tutting at my fashion boots in the snow.
“I’m going to train your replacement,” I tell him. “Although it might take more than one person to replace me. Two. Or three.”
“You’re irreplaceable.”
“Yes, I know, that’s why I’ll still be on your arm for every party and gala. You need me. You need my eyes and ears.”
“I need everyone to know you’re mine. Be my date to the New Year’s party?”
“I will,” I laugh. “But I don’t know if I’ll be ready to leave this house by then.”
“Then let’s stay. We’ll make new memories.”
“You have a deal.” I seal it with a kiss.
“Now, darling,” he says, hoisting me into his arms. “We’re going inside. I am going to rip this ridiculous hoodie-mumu off your body and do wicked things to you.”
“No, not the Hoodzou,” I cry.
His eyes twinkle. “What if I promise to replace it?”
“It’s irreplaceable.”
