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He was wearing a tuxedo.
The room was decked out for Christmas.
“Merry Christmas, Corey,” he said quietly.
Corey’s disoriented gaze drifted over the thick garlands draping the mantel, to the beribboned mistletoe on the chandelier overhead, to the huge Christmas tree in the corner with its red ornaments and twinkling lights, then it came to a stop at a small mountain of presents beneath the tree. All of them were wrapped in gold foil, and all of them had huge hite tags on them.
And all the tags said “Corey”.
“I cheated you out of a Christmas dance and a Christmas wedding,” he said solemnly. “I’d like to give them to you anyway. I still can, if you’ll let me.”
Spence had envisioned a dozen possible reactions from her, from laughter to fury, but he had never considered the possibility that Corey would turn her back on him and bend her head and start to cry. When she did, his heart sank with defeat. He reached for her and dropped his hands, and then he heard her choking whisper: “All I’ve never wanted was you.” Relief made him rough as he spun her around and yanked her into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her.
His wife laid her hand against his jaw and tenderly spread her fingers over his cheek. “All I’ve ever wanted was you.”
In the car outside, Mrs. Foster looked at the embracing couple silhouetted against the draperies. Her son-in-law was kissing her daughter as if he never intended to stop or let her go. “I don’t think there’s any need for us to wait,” she told Diana with a happy sigh. “Corey won’t be going anywhere tonight.”
“Yes she will,” Diana said with absolute certainty as she put her car into gear. “Spence cheated her out of one Christmas dance, and he intends to make up for it tonight.”
“You don’t mean he intends to take her to the ball,” Mrs. Foster said worriedly. “The tickets have been sold out for months.”
“Spence managed to reserve somehow, and we’re sitting together at it.” With a fond smile, she added, “We shouldn’t have any trouble finding the table. It has an unusual centerpiece. Instead of white orchids, it has a big red sleigh filled with holly.”
Epilogue
WRAPPED IN A RED VELVET ROBE, COREY STOOD AT THE windows of the chalet, looking out across the snowy, moonswept hills of Vermont, where they had decided to spend their first real Christmas. Her husband insisted this was also their second honeymoon – the one they would have had if Corey had gotten her Christmas wedding – and he was playing the role of ardent bridegroom with passion and élan.
She turned and walked over to the bed where Spence was asleep, the she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was almost dawn, and he’d made love to her until they were both exhausted, but it was Christmas morning, and she was absurdly anxious to see him open his presents. He gave her presents all the time, and she’d shopped for months for just the right gifts for him.
A smile touched his lips. “Why are you awake?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“It’s Christmas morning. I want to give you a present. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” he said with a husky laugh and pulled her down on top of him.
“This is not your present,” she informed him, propping her elbows on his chest as he opened her robe. “You’ve already had this one.”
“I like having two of the same presents,” he persisted, tracing his finger down the valley between her breasts.
“Two Christmases and two honeymoons, all in one year,” she answered on a breathless laugh as his mouth traced a seductive path where his hand had been. “Are we always going to do everything in twos?”
The answer to that question appeared nine months later in the birth announcement section of People magazine:
It’s a “double exposure” for Spencer Addison and his wife, photographer Corey Foster – identical twins named Molly and Mary, born September 25th.
The End
