Page 22 of Wild Christmas
Laser lights dance on the snow-covered ground, coming from a familiar-looking speaker on Aunt Maxine’s front yard. A huge bike just like Nate’s is parked out front. My heart leaps into my throat.
“Nate?” I scramble to the front door and pull it open just as the beat kick in. That’s when I see him.
Nate’s in his biking leathers and Wild Riders MC jacket. A Santa hat sits at a jaunty angle on his head, and he’s got his hand over his heart as he sings along to Mariah Carey.
I bark out a laugh, because this is so far from the serious head-in-a-computer Nate that I’ve come to know.
“What are you doing?” I take a few steps down to the yard, and he sashays over to meet me. He actually sashays with his hips swinging and arms in the air.
“Dance with me, Freya.” He offers a hand out to me.
“What is this?”
“It’s me apologizing for being an ass. You ran off before I could explain how I feel.”
I can barely speak, and my chest feels tight. I don’t dare to hope. “And how do you feel?”
He beckons with his hand. “Mariah explains it better than me.”
As the chorus kicks in, I take his hand. Nate spins me across the yard, and he moves surprisingly well for someone who claims not to dance.
He pulls me toward him and grasps me around the waist.
“I’ve been in love with you ever since I saw your pictures online. That might sound creepy. I told myself that was creepy and tried to ignore my feelings. But then you arrived at my house and you smile all the time and you make me laugh and you make me want to goddamn dance. I tried not to love you, Freya, but it’s damn impossible. You make me want to laugh, you make me want to smile, you make me want to dance every day for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes to have you by my side.
“I’m not good with people, but with you, I’m a better version of myself. You make me want to be the kind of man who dances in the snow at Christmas.”
We’ve stopped moving now, and I stare up at his earnest hopeful face.
“Please say you’ll come back. Not as the nanny but as my life partner. I love you, Freya, and I want you in my life always.”
His words are everything I didn’t know I needed to hear. My heart melts and my breathing steadies. This is where my home is. On the mountain with Nate and the two girls I’ve come to love as much as their father.
“Yes,” I say. “I want that too, Nate. I want to be with you and the girls.”
Relief crosses his face and he smiles, making his dimples dance in his cheeks.
“I’m sorry I brought up everything with the girls earlier. You know you’re the only father Maisie will ever know.”
He steps back and reaches for this backpack that’s leaning against his bike. “I’ve been thinking about that too.”
He grabs the foil package with the DNA test out of it. “It doesn’t matter if I supplied half the DNA or not. Maisie is mine, and I don’t need a test to prove it.”
He crushes the package in his hands and something inside snaps. “I was worried for ages that some asshole might turn up to try to claim her. But let him come. I’ve got four years of caring for my baby girl that proves I’m her dad. I don’t give a shit if some fucking DNA says otherwise.” He saunters to the trashcan by the side of the house and chucks the test in. “Maisie is mine as much as Dora is, as much as any of the kids we’re gonna have are.”
My eyes go wide in surprise as a tingling feeling spreads inside me. “You want more kids?”
He crinkles up his nose. “They’re messy and unpredictable and no good for my white walls.” His hand slides around my waist, and he draws me to him. “But they’re also surprising and sweet and the most wondrous pieces of tech I’ve ever come across. If you want to fill my cabin with kids, I’m all for it.” His words, whispered against my neck, spark a delicious tug deep in my belly. “Maybe we should start straight away.”
He pulls back to look at me, and his eye are hooded. “If that’s what you want.”
He kisses me, softly at first as I surrender to his lipson mine, then more urgent as warmth spreads through us against the biting cold of the snow.
Then his hands are on my waist and on my hips and the kiss becomes urgent and needy. He steps me backwards until we’re pressed against the side of the house. There’s a line of trees down the side of the house and where we are is in shadow, masking us from the streetlight and the lights of the laser light speaker.
Nate presses his body to mine and his hardness bumps up against me. I wiggle against him, and he groans my name.
“Freya, careful what you’re doing to me.”
