Page 10 of Twelve Days of Christmas

He shakes his head, like he truly can’t believe it. He smiles slowly. “Really? A week? Just you and me?”

I laugh at him. Then he reads the departure information. “Our flight leaves at seven AM after Christmas Day! How the hell are you going to be up and organized that early?”

I gasp at him, pretending to be offended and drop his foot. I quickly snatch the two tickets out of his hands and lean over him. “If you don’t like your present…”

He laughs. “I love it,” he admits, leaning up and pecking my lips. “It’s ridiculously expensive.” He slides his hands over my ass, bringing my hips to meet his. “But a week alone with you is perfect.”

Throwing the tickets onto the coffee table, I settle my weight on him, and his hands trail up to my face. He pulls my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’s the last gift, yes?”

I snort. “Since when does the twelve days of Christmas end on the eleventh day?”

He sighs. “Luc, you’ve spent far too much money already!”

I smile at him. “Tomorrow’s gift cost next to nothing.”

He stares at me like he doesn’t believe me.

“It’s true!” I tell him. “And it’s by far the best yet.”

DECEMBER 25TH

ON THE TWELFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS…

I getout of the shower to find a very handsome Cameron looking at his gifts on the dresser. He’s dressed in a charcoal suit with the naughty elf socks I gave him on the first day, the gold tie I gave him on the sixth day and the cufflinks I gave him on the tenth day.

“Watcha doin’?” I ask him as I start to get dressed.

“Just looking over your gifts,” he says quietly. He says nothing else, just waits for me to dress, and when he fixes my tie for me, he says, “Can I give you your present before we get to Mom and Dad’s?”

He seems a little nervous. Which is odd, because I expected to feel nervous today, but I don’t. Not one little bit.

“Sure you can,” I tell him, curious as to what he could be nervous about.

He holds out a small blue box; a light blue, Tiffany’s box. He takes my hand, lifting it to place the box in my palm. I open it to find not one, but two white gold rings.

“I know I acted all weird when we talked about getting rings,” he explains quickly. “I didn’t want to think of the toe ring as anything but perfect, because it is perfect. But I knowyou wanted proper rings and only dropped the subject because I acted like an ass-”

He’s still rambling on, and I’m still staring at the rings in my hand.

They are so fucking perfect.

“Luc, please say something.”

I look up at him, and I know the tears in my eyes surprise him. He thinks I don’t like them, but I can’t really explain just how fucking perfect they really are, so I kiss him instead.

It’s a hard kiss, a pressing-too-tight kiss that tells him I love his present to me.

To us.

“So perfect,” is about all I can say.

He blinks, unsure. “You like them?”

“Love them,” I say, still fighting tears. “So, so very perfect.”

He cups my cheek. “Oh, babe,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

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