Page 224 of Dirty Rival
Carrie looks over my shoulder. “They’re watching.”
I glance to my left to find Kesha and Nikki sitting at the glass. “Pretend they aren’t,” I say, grabbing my cock and pressing it to her sex.
“I don’t think I can.”
I press inside her. “Okay, maybe I can,” she moans.
“I knew you could,” I murmur, kissing her again, a deep, hungry kiss that drives away all the demons of the holiday season. This year I’m going to celebrate the way my mother would want me to celebrate.
Carrie and I spend the afternoon shopping for our day with Cat, Reese, and Gabe tomorrow, and end the night with roasted chestnuts we buy from a street vendor, a fire and a whole lot of furry cuddles while we watch a movie. Christmas morning, I wake to Kesha and Nikki on top of me and Carrie missing, but there is also the distinct smell of cinnamon rolls. I look skyward and whisper, “You’re whispering all your secrets in her ear, aren’t you, mom?” because this is the smell I woke to every Christmas morning most of my early life.
I convince Nikki and Kesha to allow me to get up and pull on sweats, a tee, and then brush my teeth. I walk to a drawer where I’ve hidden Carrie’s gift, and pull out the ring box, sticking it in my pocket.
I find Carrie in the kitchen, where I expect to find her and she’s all smiles. “Breakfast is ready!” She points at the plate of iced buns. “And I just brewed a cup of coffee and made it your way to come wake you up.”
I round the island and accept the cup, kissing her before I sip the coffee. “Good stuff, baby. Just like you.”
She smiles that perfect smile of hers, and we sit down at the counter, stuffing our faces, and talking about the wedding. It’s after we finish eating, with both of us sitting on barstools facing each other, that I pull out the box. “It has a special meaning. I’ll explain.”
Her eyes soften to and she picks it up, lifting the box to display the ring that is a star of diamonds with a ruby inside. “It’s stunning,” she says. “Absolutely stunning.”
“My mother used to tell us to wish upon a star, to find one, make a wish, and then to make that wish come true. Not to count on luck. To count on the positive energy of that wish. And the ruby was her birthstone.”
Carrie tears up. “Thank you for such a special gift.” She tries to pick up the ring, but her hand shakes. I take over and slip it on her finger.
“My turn,” she says, opening a drawer and setting a box in front of me.
I pick up the small square box and pull open the lid to find an incredible pocket watch with the world etched on the outside, a familiar watch. “Gabe told me your mother gave you one for your graduation and you were upset when you lost it. He helped me find a duplicate.”
Emotion wells in my chest, and I stand up and pull her into my arms. “I love the hell out of you. You know that, right?”
I look up at him. “Good thing. You’re marrying me in two days.”
Since dinner isn’t until six, we pretty much have a lazy morning and afternoon, and come five o’clock, I’m in black dress pants and black sweater, and Carrie is in a skirt with a red sweater, and thick tights I complain about. “I can’t get to you,” I say, pulling her to me and cupping her backside under her skirt.
“It’s Christmas dinner. You don’t need to get to me. And by the way, you’re staying at Gabe’s tomorrow night, right?”
“What? Why?”
“We can’t see each other the night before the wedding.”
“I don’t approve. No. I’m not staying at Gabe’s.”
“It’s a luck thing.”
“We don’t need luck. I don’t believe in luck.”
“Okay,” she says. “Tradition.” She twists out of my arms and grabs her coat. “You’re staying with Gabe tomorrow night. This is not up for discussion.”
“Your father will be here.”
“And that means what?”
“You’ll need me.”
“I always need you,” she says. “Which is why we’re doing tradition right.”
We argue this point on the ride to Cat and Reese’s and it’s pretty clear that I’m losing. I’m staying with Gabe. We arrive at Cat’s to have Gabe answer the door. “Merry Christmas and dad struck again.” He toasts us with his glass and turns and walks into the apartment.