I stole a look from the road.
She beamed at me. “Hmm. You’re probably right.”
I laughed and grabbed her hand to kiss her knuckles.
Suzie laughed and then sobered instantly again. Her emotions were written all over her face and were giving me whiplash. God, I missed that. “I forgot something else,” she said.
I slowed to a stop in front of my house—ourhouse. “What?”
She gripped my hand and stared at me so hard I thought the worst was coming. “I love you too, Ford.”
And just like that, my last thread of control snapped as I scooped her into my arms and my lips took hers. She was mine, and I fully intended to show her how much.
* * *
Ford
I'd been an idiot. Worse than an idiot. Losing control was amazing. And freeing. I lost control on Suzie for a week straight and every second of it was better than the last. Day or night, bed or couch. I had no intentions of ever reigning in that side of me again. Control had been a made-up form of protection for my heart that I no longer needed. I simply loved.
I pulled her into my arms and tucked her under my chin as we both stared at the big pine tree proudly displayed in the front window. It was the day before Christmas Eve, but we’d finally gotten our tree. Turned out the one I started putting up in my drunken blur wasn’t ours and needed to go back to the neighbor’s before they noticed it missing from their back porch.
Jack’s finals were over, and tomorrow the three of us were flying to Washington to be with our folks for Christmas. She couldn’t believe how thrilled I was to bring her to meet them, and so in preparation she had asked a thousand questions on how to dress and act.
“Be you. That’s all,” I’d said.
She’d not stopped smiling since. I was so proud of her; there wasn’t a thing I’d change.
Suzie’s father was trying to quit drinking. Mrs. Albensi was all but living there to make sure he stayed that way. Three days since he last drank. A start. Suzie had cried the whole time as he called Alcoholics Anonymous. He was going to his second meeting tonight.
I had spent the week setting up several exploratory meetings set with the local school board and businesses for January, looking for investors and people to share my ideas for an after-school program. Suzie helped me develop a strong pitch that we’d practiced day and night. It shared the details of my life and the difference a helping hand had made. I would spill it all if that was what it took. I was done pretending to be something else, someone else. My past didn’t freeze me in place anymore. Come hell or high water, I would start making a difference in at least one child’s life.
Suzie let out a contented sigh and said, “You were right.”
“I typically am.”
She pinched my thigh. “Real trees are amazing.”
I turned her around and kissed her with all the love I felt for her. It was a long kiss.
“Oh, get a room.” Gretchen walked in carrying a bowl of popcorn with Jack right behind her, shaking his head.
“This is my life now. I live with two rabbits. In an old house. With very thin walls,” Jack said with an annoyance that his smile betrayed. “There’s not enough Lysol in the world.”
Next into the room came the rest of the SWS. I had grumbled my disapproval when the small holiday get-together was suggested, but was promptly overruled. The name Scrooge had even been thrown about.
“Come on. At least use coasters. It’s antique.” I gestured to the classic oak bar where the peppy one just set down her drink.
“Sorry,” she giggled. “Let me just wipe that up.” Only that pint-sized brunette could actually giggle a word.
Suzie tickled me and whispered, “Be nice.”
Our home was filled with warmth. Warmth of soul and warmth of comfort. Soft holiday jazz played on the record player and fresh pine, cinnamon, and now popcorn filled the air.
We all set to work unpacking the tree boxes and decorating every branch with whatever we could find. It was cramped and chaotic but when I saw the giant smile on Suzie’s face, I wouldn’t change a thing—except maybe to purchase more coasters.
Jack scooted next to me under the guise of placing an ornament on a branch towards the top. Of course, Jack did the top foot of the tree.
“Hey, man, I think something’s wrong with your face.” He said it so discreetly that I was sure a bit of lunch was stuck in my beard. I checked smoothly but found nothing. When I looked up again, he was smirking. “You haven’t stopped smiling in days.”
