Page 56 of A Tinsel Tale

I clap my hands. “Yay! Yummy.”

He leans down to peck my lips then takes the pan off the stove and turns off the flame. He covers the bottom of the pie crust with the sautéed mixture then adds a generous portion of grated cheese on top of that before he covers it all with the creamy egg custard and pops it in the oven.

He chuckles. “I actually set the dining room table. I don’t even remember the last time I ate in there.”

“Ooh, fancy,” I say, peeking around the corner into the dining room. He has long tapered candles already lit and a white tablecloth set with delicate China and shiny cutlery for two. I turn back and watch him hungrily as he takes his apron off. He’s barefoot, wearing a navy sweater that hugs every inch of him and brings out his brown eyes and copper hair. His relaxed fit jeans hang low on his hips and the way the denim molds to his muscular thighs makes my mouth water.

“Come here you tasty morsel,” he says. I sprint into his arms. He picks me up and I wrap my thighs around his waist as he squeezes me tight. I bury my face in his neck and breathe in the masculine scent, committing it to memory for the lonely nights ahead in my very near future. But I’m not thinking about that now.

“I do love you, you know,” I say softly.

“I know,” he says. I hear the melancholy in his voice and want to make it go away.

“I know what we can do! Why don’t you open your presents while we wait for the quiche?”

He puts me down and I grab his giftbag from my overnight case and head to the couch. He sits next to me then reaches in and pulls out a small jeweler’s box, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “What do we have here?” he jokes flipping it open. He chuckles when he pulls out a two headed coin with a naked babe on either side that readsTails you get tail.

He flips it in the air catches it and slaps it onto the back of his hand. His thick brows hike and he says, “What do ya know, I win.” He pushes me onto the couch and sprawls on top of me. I giggle as he kisses my neck and finds my ticklish spot. He finally lands on my lips and he pushes his tongue in my mouth. He explores, licking and tasting, his erection pressing against my thigh. Breathless I say, “Come on, I’m anxious for you to open the rest.”

He grumbles but sits back up, hauling me with him. He pulls out the fancy truffles and chocolates then hauls out a pair of hideous Christmas socks.

“I couldn’t resist,” I say. He reaches the bottom and draws out a square box. When he opens it his eyes light up. “Babe, no way!”

“Yes way.”

“It’s too much,” he says, while removing his old watch and putting on the new platinum Rolex. “Wow, I can’t accept this.”

I giggle. “Looks like you kind of are.”

He holds up his sexy forearm—one of my biggest turn-ons—and admires it.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

“Like it? I love it but…”

I put my finger over his lips. “Shh. I can afford it and your forearms are some of my favorite eye candy. They must be adorned.”

“Wow, Evie. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I am so pleased, I feel joy all the way to my toes.

The timer goes off signaling the quiche is done, so we move our party to the elegantly set dining room table and eat.

I’m sitting on the couch, my feet tucked up under me while Jamie grabs my presents from under the tree. He sets them beside the couch and sits next to me. Hux is busy running around the room squeaking his new toy ducky.

Jamie hands me a package and says, “Open this one first.” I narrow my eyes seeing the devilish glint in his eyes.

I shake the dress sized box figuring it’s clothing of some kind. Ripping off the paper I lift the lid and I squeal in delight as I pull out a full-size blanket, customized with our old prom picture on it. “Oh my God. We were so young.” I rub the soft material against my cheek. “I love it!”

“I kind of knew you would,” he says. “It’s corny, but I like it,” he admits.

“I will use it every night when I’m curled up on my chair.”Oops.I wish I could take the words back the second they leave my mouth when I see the pain flash in his eyes.

“Here, open this next,” he says, voice more subdued.

“You’re spoiling me,” I say. He ruefully taps his Rolex as a reminder. I rip the paper off and gasp at the beautiful, intricately carved music box. I lift the lid and there are two ballroom dancing figurines spinning to the tune, “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” “It’s lovely,” I say, my voice thick with tears. One escapes and he catches it.

“You’relovely, Evie.” He leans down and his soft lips brush mine. “You really like it?”