Well, he’d already gotten sex this morning and I was getting wise to his manipulation. Every now and then he’d mention it and my guilt transformed me into a rampant sex goddess, bent on making it up to him. I’d given him the run-around and it hadn’t been easy on him. I’d messed up hugely, terrified of being in love with him, and terrified of losing him. The surgery part had obviously not been my fault. Last year we’d spent Christmas day barely saying a word to each other, passing time in awkward conversation, swapping overlyĮxpensive Christmas gifts, and lending support to Ellie as she anticipated her upcoming surgery to remove tumors from her brain. “Definitely better than last year so far.” Un-amused at the reminder, I flipped him the bird. Braden shot me a teasing look when he pulled back. “Merry Christmas.” “Merry Christmas,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. I snuggled into his side as he reached back for the coffee and once he was settled I knocked my mug against his. He placed his coffee on the bedside table before getting back into bed with me. “Another present?” I asked as I took my mug from him. I eyed the mugs of cinnamon-topped coffee in his hands. A stocking filler, he’d called it before he’d pushed my legs open and well… filled me. Strands of his gorgeous, dark hair flew out in different directions courtesy of my fingers and the rough treatment they’d given it when Braden had gifted me my first Christmas present of the morning. Boo to winter for stealing my naked Braden time.

He stood over our rumpled bed wearing a long-sleeved pajama top and matching pants.

“An On Dublin Street Christmas” by Samantha Young The smell of coffee and cinnamon teased my curious eyes open and I pushed lazily up onto my elbow, grinning at Braden.

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