Page 59 of Christmas With The Kings
He stared at me, the amusement in his eyes melting into something softer that made my chest clench. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. He rolled his shoulder, then tugged at the hem of his trousers.
I knelt, heart thudding in a rhythm that had nothing to do with nerves. My fingers found the inside of the strap and fitted it against his skin, the leather cool and surprisingly intimate. His calf was warm beneath my touch. There was a minor hitch in his breath when my hand brushed the spot behind his ankle.
I fastened the first buckle, the snap of metal loud in the quiet room. I cinched the second carefully, slowing my movements so he felt every deliberate brush of my fingers along his skin. When the strap sat snug and secure, I leaned in, placing a soft kiss on each blade.
He watched me the whole time, eyes dark and pleased. When I straightened, my hands lingered on his calves as if reluctant to let go. He reached for my hand and helped me up, then dragged me into his arms. I barely had time to register the look in his eyes before his mouth crashed down on mine, possessive and slow-burning all at once.
My hands flew to his chest instinctively, gripping the fabric of his coat as he kissed me senseless, reminding me who I belonged to. He pulled back, his breath warm against my lips.
“God, I fucking love you,” he murmured.
I blinked up at him, dazed. “Same, Blade. Same.” I sucked in a breath, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.
“Alright then. Mrs. Claus—let’s not keep the children waiting.”
Once we were in the car, he started it up and adjusted the heat for me without saying a word. He loved to do little things like that, and it made my heart melt. He glanced over, lips twitching, clearly still amused. It was different—him in this capacity. Normally Marcus drove. I loved seeing this side of him.
“First stop,” he said, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. “Hyde Park.”
I gasped. “So I was right. And just so you know, we’re bound to come across a barbie or two there.”
By the time we reached our destination, the kiss under the mistletoe had settled deep into my bones, making it nearly impossible to stop smiling. Ivan parked like a man on a mission. He got out and opened my door like a gentleman. Then he took my hand tightly in his, and we strolled into the glimmering warmth of holiday madness.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I teased, bumping him with my hip.
“Like you want to attack me. I thought it was the blondes I had to watch out for.”
Before I could get the sharp retort out of my mouth, Sophia was calling my name. She cut across the path like a red-gowned general, eyes narrowed with purpose.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, hands flying up in equal parts relief and exasperation. “Do you have any idea how many children I’ve been stalling? Honestly—”
Behind her, Christopher strolled over at a leisurely pace, scarf tucked neatly at his throat. He flashed me a bright smile, and my heart melted. I was more than lucky—I was blessed to have all the extra people in my life this year. I was determined to wrap every sentimental moment I could into my heart and cherish it always.
Turning my attention back to Sophia, I muttered under my breath. “I told him we needed—”
The words trailed off as Sebastian stepped into my view. I lost it. Bash-baby, who was the epitome of refined and smug ninety-nine percent of the time—like Nik—was dressed in the most offensively cheerful elf costume I’d ever seen.
Even I couldn’t have come up with something better. All six-foot-two of him was shoved into bright green and red. The green coat was trimmed with candy-cane red, gold jingle bells stitched into the hem, and striped tights stretched across thighs and calves in a way that could only be described as indecent.
The fabric clung in all the wrong places or right ones, depending on who you were. Thankfully, the coat was a little longer in the front. Therewere even pointed tops added to his boots. He looked like Buddy the Elf’s disgruntled cousin who’d been drafted last minute.
I snorted so loudly that a few nearby volunteers turned their heads. “Oh, oh, this is gold,” I gasped, clutching my side. “Bashy, you’re glorious.”
He shot me a withering look, tugging at the too-short hem of the shorts. “This family is going to be the death of me,” he muttered, “literally. The only thing that is making it even somewhat worth it is Izzy-B.”
My eyes sought her out, and I exclaimed my surprise. She looked like every holiday card illustration come to life—petite frame swallowed by a sweet velvet pinafore dress in holly red, puffed sleeves under a striped blouse, little white apron tied with a bow at the back. A matching pointed hat with a bell sat askew on her dark hair. Her scowl ruined the sugarplum effect, but oh—she was darling.
“You’re so cute I could cry,” I gushed, clasping my hands like she’d just descended from the North Pole.
This earned me a sideways glare from her, and not a simple glare—we’re talking the dirtiest, black-as-night look she could summon.
“Love and loyalty,” she muttered under her breath. “That’s the only explanation. I have no idea how I let myself be dragged into this madness. You owe me, after this. Just so you know, and I’m cashing in. Your next ovulation week we are skipping town for the entire seven days.”
I ignored the death glare, swooping in to hug her tight, relishing in how she melted into me. This was progress. “Picture,” I said firmly, pulling my phone half out of my pocket. “Please. This needs to be immortalized.”
Her expression was pure doom.
