Rayah had no idea how Jonny kept his voice so controlled. His thumb gently stroked her skin, reassuring. Feeling.
“I wanted to see if Santa had been.”
“Not yet, sweetheart. He won’t come till everyone’s gone to bed. Go upstairs and I’m going to check you’re tucked up in five minutes.”
“Okay. Why are you kissing Rayah?”
“Mistletoe. It’s tradition.”
Rayah let out the breath that she’d been holding at his quick thinking.
“Okay. Going to bed now. I’m telling the boys in the morning that you kissed Rayah though.”
Jonny said nothing. Rayah was aware of his hands still on her, body still pressed up to hers. He pulled her in a little closer as the tiny footsteps faded.
“You realise there’s no way Sadie will not tell everyone.”
“She’s keeping one secret at the moment and that’s more than enough for her.” Rayah hadn’t let go of him. She was using this time to memorise how he felt under her hands, aware that this – wherever it had come from – might not happen again.
“What’s that?” He shifted, resting his chin on her head, enveloping her in his arms.
It was nice to be held, although it would also be nice to be doing something else. “Zack’s asking Sorrell to marry him. Somehow, Sadie found out. She’s got to keep it quiet until the Lord of Misrule party.”
Jonny gave that deep chuckle. “That’s going to kill her. She’ll be distracted by presents tomorrow.”
“And us…” Rayah waited for his response.
“We don’t deny anything. Just stick with the mistletoe. She doesn’t know I was feeling you up at the same time as kissing you.”
“Or that your cock is as hard as steel against me.” It still was. There was no sign of it abating.
“I think I’ll have to sort that out when I go upstairs.”
Rayah shifted against him. This wasn’t going anywhere else, not for tonight, maybe not again. No big deal would be made of it; it didn’t need analysing or discussing, it was just something that had happened.
“Maybe we should do that sooner. In case she comes back down.”
“I need to leave the presents out too.” He sighed and started to let go of her.
“Want some help?”
His laugh this time was less husky. “Always. I’ll never turn you down.”
Chapter Seven
Watching his children open presents on Christmas morning was something Jonny didn’t think he’d ever want to give up. As hard as being a single parent was and as draining as it could be on time and finances, these were moments where he wouldn’t change anything, other than to have their mother with them.
Older friends asked if he did something to remember her by at Christmas, whether a place was set for her at the table for dinner, or a present for each of the kids was from her. He’d thought about it, especially the first couple of Christmases after her death, especially for Charlie, but it had resonated with him as being morbid and not necessarily healthy.
He’d kept a memory box with photos and other bits and pieces, the order of service from their wedding, the hair clip she’d worn, pictures of the scans from when she was pregnant and he’d talked to the children about her whenever they’d asked.
For Harry and Sadie, Grace was almost a mythical figure. Harry had been just two when she’d died, Sadie months old. He wanted them to know about her and how much she’d loved them, but never wanted to force it on them.
There was a burst of giggles from Sadie as she opened the present he’d really not wanted to buy. It was some ridiculous game where foam was splatted in people’s faces. She was going to force it on her brothers – Harry would probably be quite happy with it, Charlie would do it to appease her before putting pleading eyes on him to get her to stop.
“Did you have to, Dad?” Charlie said quietly, a gift in his hands that Jonny didn’t recognise.
“She’ll forget about it after a week. Or we’ll hide it. Who’s that from?”
