“Why didn’t you tell me?” I wonder as a tear slips down my cheek.
“Because it’s embarrassing.” A ragged sigh stutters from his chest. “It’s humiliating to feel like this clingy, broken, lonely guy who didn’t want to be too far away. But also couldn’t show his face.”
I scoot closer to him until my knee touches his thigh under the blanket. “Listen to me, Gav.” Grabbing his chin so he meets my stare, I tell him, “You arenotbroken. You arenotclingy. And most of all, you should not feel embarrassed. Of course I wish you had been at our house, but I’m still happy you found a homey feeling with Gary and Joe.” His warmth envelops me as I cuddle under his arm, my hand over the fox tattooed on his heart.
“I missed you all, though,” he admits softly, chest lifting with a deep breath. “I’ve never felt at home like I do with your family.”
I’ve never felt at home like I do in his arms.
I swallow those words, though, and whisper, “We missed you too.”
A long silence stretches between us, and in its midst, guilt trickles through my thoughts.
Who am I to make judgments about someone keeping secrets when I have my own? I haven’t told anyone here about my job, and while I know these two secrets are nothing alike, I still wonder if he would care to know mine.
It doesn’t change anything, though. He’ll still go back to Eugene, and I’ll go home to Wilhelmina.
One more day of withholding information won’t make a difference. We can get through tomorrow, and before I leave on the twenty-sixth, I’ll tell everyone. That way it doesn’t ruin Christmas.
A deep breath of relief sweeps through my chest as I try to find a way to let him know that it’s okay. To show him that I understand how hard it is to tell people things you feel ashamed about.
So I go for something lighthearted. “Last year, I tried to make my own lemon pie, but it was like soup in a leather crust,” I admit, snorting a laugh.
He chuckles, his muscles loosening around me. “What else did you do? Tell me all of it. Leave nothing out.”
“And then Penelope held up the letter from Santa and said, ‘Mama, his handwriting looks exactly like yours.’”
Gavin’s laughter vibrates against my cheek. “Did they manage to convince her it wasn’t?”
“Oh yeah. She was easily distracted when Auggie shoved a gift in her face, and nobody mentioned it again.”
I sit up beside him, arching into a yawn and letting the blanket slip down my torso.
His grin turns wicked as it slides down my body. “Speaking of ‘easily distracted.’”
My cheeks heat as I let him devour the sight of me. “I was thinking. You know how in hotels, you pay for a ‘night,’ but that really means you have until a certain time the next day?” I flutter my lashes at him.
His husky laugh warms my chest.
“Well, I was thinking our ‘one night’ should include until a certain time today.”
“Were you, now?” His fingers glide up my arm in a light caress, his heavy gaze following the movement.
“It seems fair. I want to make sure I get my money’s worth.”
Gavin throws off the covers and slides down the bed, pulling me with him. Shivers dart down my spine as he runs his hand over my hip.
“You’re insatiable, old man.” I giggle, squirming under him.
He presses a kiss between my breasts. “I’ll never be sated with you.” He clamps his mouth over my nipple and moans around it, the vibration shooting straight through my core.
My thighs spread wider as he kisses my stomach, then just below my belly button, and right over my tiger tattoo.
His whiskey eyes sparkle as he smirks up at me, with his mouth poised right over where I need him. “Can I taste this pretty pussy again?”
My fingers grip his hair greedily. “Yes, please.”
He drags a possessive palm over my inner thigh until he reaches the hickey he left last night. Gliding a thumb over it, he studies the bruise before pressing a soft kiss there.
