“Cranberry sauce.”
I start to laugh then, so hard my sides start to shake, and Locke looks alarmed and takes the containers out of my hands.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
I wipe tears of laughter from my face and lead him to the kitchen. Then I hand him my bag from the grocery store.
Locke reaches in and pulls out a package of cranberries and a single can of cranberry sauce. His eyes light up as he studies the label on the can.
“Jellied,” I say. I twist a strand of hair around my finger. “I had this great plan to crash your mom’s party and tell you how wrong it felt for you to leave. I was going to win you back.” I wrinkle my nose. “Your plan was better.”
“I don’t know.” He lifts the cranberry sauce with an amused smile. “I would have liked to see that very much.”
I roll my eyes at him and smile. “So about the food,” I start. “You hungry?”
Locke’s eyes drop to my lips, and my clit starts to throb, and my heart kicks up so hard I’m sure he can see it banging through my clothes. He sets down the can on my kitchen counter and takes my hand, and together we walk toward my room. “I’m starved.”
30
Locke
I wake up on Greer’s couch with her arms wrapped tight around me and her head on my chest. Light from the Christmas tree glows faintly on her naked legs, and her sweet-scented hair tickles my nose.
Perfect. Everything’s absolutely, exactly perfect.
Greer stirs in my arms, and her eyes flutter open, the blue so familiar and so achingly mine.
“Hey,” I whisper in the hushed, reverent tone of mornings. “Merry Christmas.”
Greer wiggles closer against me and presses a kiss to my lips. “Merry Christmas. Babe.”
I grin and tickle her sides, her soft skin under my hands.
“Mercy,” she begs, and with a laugh, she slides off the couch. She bends toward the floor in a move that makes all the blood rush straight to my cock, then scoops my button-down shirt from the floor.
“What are you doing there?” I ask as she slides her arms inside and buttons the shirt from bottom to top over her mesmerizing curves.
“Holding this hostage. I can’t risk having you put it back on and covering up those sexy arms.”
I groan, but I’ll take it. “You should take it off again,” I protest. “I’m going to get cold.”
Greer leaves the top few buttons unbuttoned to showcase the enticing dip of her cleavage, then swings into the kitchen with her bare legs flashing like temptation, like salvation. “I know what will keep you warm,” she calls over the counter.
“Skin-to-skin contact?”
She grins. “And coffee.” She starts a pot brewing, then pads back into the living room. Instead of walking toward the couch, she takes a detour to the Christmas tree. She stands before the Douglas fir and runs one finger over the ice cream cone ornament we hung together last night. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“It is,” I say, but I only have eyes for her.
Greer turns back to me, then says, “Hey, I was thinking. When you take the new job, will we have to move desks?”
“Why?” I walk toward Greer and reach for her waist. “You like the view?”
She rolls her eyes and then gives me a little smirk. “Obviously. Plus, I’m still working on my spitball aim. How else am I going to improve?”
“Practice makes perfect,” I agree. I pull her close to me, then drop a hand to the curve of her naked ass.
Greer squeals but leans into me, and her eyes close as she lets out an appreciative hum.
“You know what love is?” I whisper, my voice so thick it’s hard to talk.
She opens her eyes and smiles. “This?”
I kiss her gently and nod. “This. But it’s also your heart recognizing something in mine. Getting closer to the knowledge that we’re all connected. Finding a slice of that truth in another person’s smile.”
Greer leans back and really looks at me, and her smile slides under my skin so my whole body resonates with the vibration of her love. That warm, melting feeling of belonging and being seen. “I mean, all I did was talk about spitballs,” she teases. “All that poetry’s rubbing off on you, Lachlan Mills.” She clears her throat. “Speaking of which. I have a present for you.”
“You got me a present?”
She puffs her bangs off her forehead. “I mean, yeah. Before you had to go being all dramatic about it.”
“Sorry, babe.”
Her eyes brighten the way they do every time I use that word. “Apology accepted. You want your present now or later?”
“Is it time-sensitive?” I ask.
The briefest hint of hesitation flashes in her eyes, and she sinks her teeth into the curve of her lower lip. “Are you going anywhere?”
My heart squeezes for a second at the idea of losing her again. I thought, after everything, I would have left her with no doubts, but I’ll be happy to cross this one last hurdle.
“No, Greer.” I trace my fingers up her sides and hold her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” And then I put everything out there in the open, my heart and my future on the line. “I’d like to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”
“Oh.” The air puffs out of her, and her face is so damn delighted that I feel like I might never need to leave this room again. Everything I need is here—me and Greer and a love that we’re finally allowing to bloom. “My permanent plus one for parties?”
My chest fucking swells. “Nothing would make me prouder.”
“Well, in that case.” Greer plants an achingly perfect kiss on my lips and then dances out of my reach. “Take a seat on the couch.”
I follow her instructions, and Greer disappears into her bedroom, humming All I Want for Christmas Is You under her breath. She emerges wearing her stupid ugly Christmas sweatshirt and a
