Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
He jerks his chin toward my cup.
An agreement? A fresh start?
I don’t know.
“Baby,” he whispers. And his eyes… the emotion in them, the longing?
We’re standing in the middle of a beautiful Christmas store while Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You is playing, and he’s looking into my eyes with that smoldering gaze and that unspoken please. I’m melting.
“To new beginnings,” I say, my voice coming out emotional as I tap my Styrofoam cup against his.
He kisses my temple. “Love you,” he says gruffly, then grabs a shopping cart.
Forty-five minutes later, his SUV has a massive Christmas tree tied to the top and the trunk has five bags of Christmas decorations in it. It cost a small fortune. And in the bag is a heart-shaped porcelain ornament with the year on it and it says, “Our first Christmas Together.” On the opposite side, it says “Mr. and Mrs.”
He chose it with an adorable smile on his face. “This one?”
I smiled as he set it carefully into the shopping cart.
He lifted a ‘Baby’s first Christmas’ ornament, but as his lips parted to ask me if I wanted it, I shook my head.
“No. Superstition wins out on this one.”
“Okay. We’ll buy one next year,” he relented, then kissed me.
***
I’m pretty exhausted when we get in, so he sends me for a nap with plans to go down and get the tree to bring upstairs, then set it up in the new tree stand in the corner. He suggests we decorate it on Sunday after it’s had the chance to settle.
When I wake up after a two-hour nap, feeling nauseous again, but at least not puking, he’s on the couch with his laptop.
He smiles when he sees me and snaps the lid shut before setting it down on the coffee table. He pats his knee and I’m awestruck by the gorgeous, happy smile that he has on his face. The Christmas tree sits by the window, undecorated but making the place smell amazing.
I try to sit on the couch beside him, but he catches me and pulls me onto his lap. Holding the back of my neck, our lips are fused together for a moment before he breaks the kiss, asking, “Good nap?”
“Terrible,” I say. “I feel nauseous again. The only time I felt not-yucky today is when I had a gingerbread cookie at the Christmas store and it wore off after about half an hour.”
“I’ll go buy you some more,” he says.
“That’s okay.”
“I insist. Anything else?”
I shake my head.
“Back soon.” He lifts me up so he can get up, then sets me down, draping the blanket over me. “Pick a movie for tonight?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He moves to the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of red Gatorade, and brings it to me along with the remote.
“Where’s your phone? In the bedroom? I’ll grab it so you don’t have to move a muscle.”
“Oh. Oh, shit. I left it in your SUV.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s in the cupholder.”
“Right. Okay, I’ll leave mine and you call me on yours if you need anything.” He gestures to the coffee table.
“Okay.”
He leans over and kisses me. “7488.”
“I know,” I say.
His phone code. I’ve seen him unlock it dozens of times in front of me. He doesn’t try to hide it. And that’s always said something to me.
Strangely.
If I’d snooped on him the way he snooped on me, I might have gotten clues about his secrets a lot sooner. But he trusted me.
My hand lands on his jaw and he gives me a burning stare, like he likes it. I kiss him back and then snuggle up with the remote as he grabs his keys and heads out.
Around an hour later, I’ve narrowed it down to between Christmas with the Kranks and Fred Claus as tonight’s movie choices, figuring I’ll ask Killian which one he prefers when he gets home, when his phone screen lights up from the coffee table, catching my eye. I lean forward and see a bunch of alarm system notifications.
Driveway motion event. T.
Motion detected front door T
Alarm disabled T
Motion kitchen T
T.
Tillamook.
I tap the screen on the most recent notification and a new window opens, showing me a large guy in a leather jacket opening the fridge in that kitchen.
I enlarge the window to full-size. It’s his security guy, Tony, who I met at Genesis and again at Numbers. He was there when Ray showed up with the gun. He also came to the hospital when Killian was jumped.
Tony opens the freezer, pulls a frozen entrée out and pops it into the microwave.
He then pulls something from the fridge and then seems like he’s looking around on top of the fridge. He looks around on the floor and then disappears out of camera view.
Killian’s phone starts ringing with Tony calling across the top of the screen. The security window is still open.