Page 79 of Yuletide Guard
The happy future with a family of her own that she had always dreamed about. By this time next year, they might be married, maybe even have a baby on the way.
Michael moved faster, and Samara felt that feeling building up in her stomach. She matched his speed, her fingers tangling in his hair as she brought his mouth down to hers. One of his hands slipped between them, circling her hard little bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.
A minute later the world exploded into a million little brightly colored twinkling fairy lights.
They were both panting and breathless, and Michael pulled out then wrapped his arm around her, rolling them both over so the blanket was tucked around them and she was closer to the fireplace.
She could stay like this forever.
Lying in the arms of the man she loved, the crackle of the flames, the glow of the lights, this feeling in her heart, she wanted to freeze time so this moment never had to end.
“I love you, Mike,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck.
“Right back at you,” he murmured, tugging on a lock of her hair. “I have something for you.”
“Hmm?” She was only half-listening, still blissfully locked in the moment, glad Michael had decided they should do this instead of cleaning up.
“You're not listening,” Michael said, playfully poking her in the ribs.
“You expect me to concentrate after that?” She poked him back.
“Iwaspretty amazing.” The smile he gave her was smug.
“Wewere,” she corrected with a giggle. She liked this relaxed, fun side of Michael. She liked this relaxed, fun side of herself,too. “What did you say?”
“I have a Christmas gift for you.”
“Aren't we supposed to wait for Christmas morning to exchange gifts?”
“ItisChristmas morning,” he reminded her. He sat them up and reached over to grab a red and green striped bag from under the tree. He reached inside and pulled out a small gold box and gave it to her.
“Thank you,” she said as she took it and tore the paper. Inside was a bottle of hydrangea perfume. “Oh, pretty,” she gushed, taking it out of its box. “I love hydrangeas, they come in such beautiful colors.”
“I chose it because I knew that the association with Dante and your old perfume would mean you stopped wearing it.
“How did you know that?” she asked. He was right, but that wasn't information he would have been able to get from Brady. She hadn't told anyone about throwing out the lavender perfume after she got home last Christmas Day and never buying another bottle.
He smiled and brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek. “Because I know you. I know how your mind works. I chose the hydrangea on purpose because they mean heartfelt and honest emotions, gratitude and thanksgiving, a deep understanding between two people, asking for forgiveness, and expressing regret. I thought that was perfect for us. We understood each other in a way no one else ever had. You’re the first woman I’ve ever felt true emotion for. I’m so grateful for you being in my life—yougaveme my life back. And after how I behaved this last year, I’m definitely regretful over hurting you and needing your forgiveness.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. She had really lucked out with Michael. It made all the years she had been alone worth it because without them the path her life had taken would neverhave led her to him.
“I never got a chance to thank you for what you did that day,” Samara said. “Fin told me how you jumped off the bridge after us with no thoughts for your own safety. How you wouldn’t leave the freezing cold river until you found me. You saved my life. Thank you.” The words didn't feel like enough even if she meant them more than she had ever meant anything in her life.
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, you know that, right?” Michael pressed his thumb to her cheek to catch the tears that were falling and brushed them away.
“I know,” she assured him.
“Good, because I have one more thing in here, you might say that it’s too soon, but I don’t believe it is.”
Samara gasped.
He wasn't really going to do what she thought he was going to do, was he?
“Michael,” she cautioned.
He ignored her and pulled out a small velvet box. He loosened the blanket that was wrapped around them and climbed out of it. Kneeling beside her, he reached for her hand.
“Samara, I love you. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been friends for years, and that friendship grew into something I thought I could only ever dream about. But you’re real. You’re sweet, and smart, and compassionate. I want to have kids with you, I want to grow old with you and spend every day of the rest of my life making up for all the bad things that have happened to you. Will you marry me?”