I froze, the white lights in my hand. “You don’t want it the same?”
“Nope.” She set her glass down and spun on me, her eyes shining. “We’re not them. Why should we have the same things? I want cheeseburgers and beer, not caviar and three-hundred-year-old scotch. I want lasagna and mistletoe kisses, not press photos and chaste handholding. I want this. Us. And nothing you do or try to transform will change that. You make me happy. This makes me happy, and I love you so much for being you.”
The breath slammed out of my chest and I swear I might have staggered back, her honesty hit me that hard. She really liked me just like I was, and that f**king amazed me. “Then you’ll have this every year. Anything you want, it’s yours.”
“I want you and only you.” She curled her hands around my neck. “So come back home safely, or I might shrivel up and die.”
My gut twisted and curled until I thought I might hurl all over her pretty dress she’d worn for me. The words were lovely and sweet, and I knew she intended them as such, but the thought of me dying and her being ruined by it made me sick. Fucking sick.
I’d never had someone depend on me like this. Need me like this. Not even my father. He’d be upset, but he would move on. She needed me, and damn it, I needed her.
I rested my cheek on the top of her head, which was a hell of a lot closer with those f**k me shoes on, and closed my eyes. “Sweetheart, I promise you that I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
“Good.” She rubbed her nose against my chest. “That’s all I need to know.”
I tightened my arms around her again. “Now let’s get this tree decorated so I can give you my present.”
“I don’t have one for you.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I didn’t know we were doing Christmas early.”
“You don’t have to give me anything.” I kissed the top of her head and reluctantly let go of her. “You’re all the present I need.”
“I could tell you the same thing,” she said, cocking her brow in a perfect imitation of me. “But you got me something anyway, didn’t you?”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
I opened the box of colored lights. “Because I want to spoil you rotten.”
“So do I.” She bent over and pulled out a white angel. “This is cute.”
“You can’t do that yet. It’s last.”
She turned to me, the angel perched between her fingers. “Says who?”
“Me.” I pulled out the lights. “And, like, every single Christmas movie ever made.”
She waved the angel under my nose. “Remember? No movies as a kid?”
“Poor, depraved child,” I said, grinning at her. “Don’t worry. I have the best Christmas movie in store for tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”
She laughed. “It sounds interesting.”
“Ginger, you have no idea.” I handed her the end to the string of lights. “Hold that.”
“I’ve never done this before.” She frowned at the green corded lights in her hand. “Be warned.”
I shook my head and squatted at the bottom of the tree. She was close enough that I had an interesting view up her skirt. I’d feel like a pervert staring up at her, but hell, she was mine and I was hers. I was allowed to look. “Just wrap it around like this.” I wrapped it around the base of the tree. “And make sure you don’t wrap yourself in it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that bad.”
“If you say so.” I stood and wrapped the light around her legs. “Oops. Would you look at that?”
She burst into laughter and stepped free, her heel getting tangled in the little spot between the cords. “You’re such a dork.”
“You mean I’m adorkable, right?”
“Oh yeah. So much so.” She snorted. “Help me out some more, will ya?”
We spent the next few minutes joking around and putting the lights on the branches. As I reached high, using the last of the lights, she stood back and wrapped her arms around herself. She looked happy enough, but she looked pretty damned sad, too. I bent over and picked up the plug. “You ready to see our handiwork?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding at me with a smile. “Do it.”
I plugged them in and crawled out from underneath of the tree. I stood up, brushing my hands off, and cringed. There was a whole spot in the front of the middle that had no lights. None. “Holy shit, we suck.”
She turned her head to the side, squinting. “If you look really, really closely, you can see the extra lights we put in the back shining though the tree.”
“Hm.” I squinted and turned my head. She was right. I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it.” I crossed the room and slowly turned the tree. “Tell me when it looks best.”
She tapped her chin and watched with all the scrutiny she would if someone had told her there would be a quiz later. Must be that attention to detail that would help her become an occupational therapist.
She brightened. “Right there. That looks good.”
I stopped turning it and went back to her side. She was right. It looked perfect now. “Well, the window will get a bad view, but it looks good to me.”
“Totally.” She nodded decisively and headed for the couch. “Do you want the red balls or the green ones?”
“Green. Duh.”
She laughed. “Sor-ry.”
I slapped her on the ass, playful and silly. “The red ones are for my Ginger.”
“And green are because…?”
“I like green.” I shrugged. “I didn’t really care what I had, only you.”
“Is green your favorite color?”
“It used to be. Now it’s the color of your eyes.” I should have kicked myself in the nuts for that sappy sentiment. It sounded corny, but it was true. “They don’t have a lot of blue ones, though. Mostly gold, silver, red, and green.”
She swallowed hard and smiled. “Right. Christmas colors.”
I hung an ornament, and watched her out of the corner of my eye. “My buddy Hernandez will be watching you while I’m gone.”
She stopped with a ball half on the tree. “I hadn’t even thought of that option. My dad’s okay with it?”