Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 19091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
A soft palm pressed against my back and I turned to see Kenna smiling at me. She slid her hand around my shoulders as she moved to press a kiss on my nape. The move made her naked breasts press against my back and arousal rose in me again.
Terrible timing.
“Do you think it’s okay if I call Kenna?” Michael suddenly asked.
I stiffened, and Kenna felt it. “Uh, of course you should call Kenna. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
Kenna pulled back, eyes wide. And then she was scrambling out of bed. If she wasn’t so fucking gorgeous, it would’ve been funny to watch her hurry naked from the room, presumably to get dressed and find her phone.
“Okay, I’ll call her next.”
“You do that. I love you, son. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, Dad. Bye!”
Less than a minute after I hung up, I heard Kenna’s phone blaring and then her sweet voice answering, “Happy Christmas, Michael!”
My heart beat a wee bit faster. Because I wanted her to say that to my boy. I wanted to hear her say it to him every year. But could I trust that’s what she wanted?
I put my worries aside for the day. Instead, I enjoyed Christmas with Kenna. She talked me out of calling Deena and giving her an earful for letting Jim tell our son Santa wasn’t real. We made breakfast together, and I tried to shrug off my annoyance. Kenna was playful and flirty in the kitchen, so that helped take my mind off it.
After breakfast, we sat down by the tree and opened our gifts to each other. Kenna had left the presents under the tree before Michael had departed for his mum’s and she’d, thankfully, forgotten to take the gifts we’d bought her home.
She’d clearly snuck a look at my toiletries because she gifted me a bottle of my favorite aftershave, as well as a bottle of my favorite (and too expensive wine). “You shouldn’t have,” I murmured against her lips. “Thank you.”
Kenna kissed me long and deep. When she pulled back, she whispered, “Someone needs to spoil you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to beg her never to leave. I cleared my throat and handed her the gift from me. It was a designer cashmere scarf I thought would suit her coloring. She smoothed her hands over it and oohed and aahed, like I’d given her the world.
Then I handed her the gift from Michael.
Her lips parted as she unwrapped it to discover the blue box with Tiffany & Co. on the front. It was an extravagant gift and one I thought would look better coming from Michael. “Haydyn,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she opened the box to reveal the black velvet interior. Nestled on the velvet was a delicate 18K rose-gold necklace with two interlocking circles accented with carved Roman numerals.
“The girl in the shop said the necklace is part of a collection about taking time into your own hands and treasuring what matters most. The circles reminded me of your parents too. I thought it—Michael thought it was something you could wear to remember them.”
Tears spilled down Kenna’s cheeks as she stared at me as if she might feel the same way about me. “This is all you, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “It’s from us both.”
“It’s the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you.” Her fingers trembled as she took the necklace out of the box. “Can you help me put it on?”
I nodded, taking the necklace. Kenna turned, swiping her hair out of the way, and I gently fixed it around her neck.
When she turned, her palm covered the circles. “You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known, Haydyn Barr.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “You bring it out in me.”
Kenna’s answer was to throw her arms around me and kiss me like there was no tomorrow. So I lowered her to the floor and made love to her like I might never get the chance to again.
Seven
Haydyn
The next day, knowing it was the anniversary of Kenna’s parents’ death, I was watchful and perhaps a wee bit too much of a hoverer.
We spent a wonderful Christmas Day together, one that could’ve only been better if Michael had been with us. However, at night, we played in my bed, and we could be as loud as we wanted, which was phenomenal.
My first thought on Boxing Day was of Kenna, however, and I was disconcerted to realize she wasn’t in the bed beside me. She was already up and dressed and making breakfast for us. She assured me she was okay, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes that I wished like hell I could take away.
It was an awful feeling of powerlessness to know that I couldn’t.