Page 81 of Brought By the Storm

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carrington

I woke from a light shaft of winter light poking through the bedroom window. I blinked a couple of times, then jumped when I turned to see if Eric was still asleep. He was on his side, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand, staring at me like a horror movie stalker.

“Jesus! What are you doing?”

He sighed with contentment. “You’re up. I was wondering if you were going to sleep Christmas morning away,” he answered.

“What time is it?” I griped.

“It’s already seven. Merry Christmas.” He bent over and gave me a peck on the lips. “Come on. You need to see what Santa brought.”

I was still trying to clear the grogginess from my head. “Huh? What are you, five?”

Eric’s smile disappeared as he flinched. “Oh…sorry. You can sleep if you want.”

I hated that I killed his joy. I reached up and messed up his hair even more than it already was. “No, I’m sorry. I love your holiday enthusiasm. I’ll get up, but would you be my best mate and start some coffee while I brush my teeth?”

“You sure?” he asked, unable to hide his hope.

I smiled to reassure him. “Yes, I’m sure. You exorcised the Grinch from me. Go out to see the presents Santa left you, but don’t start opening them until I get out there.”

He looked insulted. “Of course, I wouldn’t! If I was going to do that, why would I have waited an hour for you to wake up?”

“An hour?” I shook my head. This guy was a serious Christmas junkie. “Just go make the coffee, you nut.”

He jumped off the bed, already dressed in pajamas, and scooted into the living room. I hoped he was enjoying the sight of the presents I had put there once he had fallen asleep the night before. I took his cue to put on pajamas and, after brushing my teeth and taking a morning piss, I walked into the living room. He was sitting on the couch enjoying the lights, gifts and still-falling snow outside the window. I could understand why he thought it was magical.

He gave me a small smile. “Coffee is ready.”

Once we were both cuddled close on the sofa, he emitted a slight hum of contentment. “Are we going to open the presents, or are we just going to admire the wrapping?”

He tapped my arm. “I don’t want to rush.”

I laughed. “Said the man who was up before dawn to start the festivities.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Okay. I just don’t want Christmas to end. I’ll get a present for each of us to open.” He then looked back at me with a furrowed brow. “Where did you hide all these presents anyway? It’s not like the apartment is that big.”

I snickered. “Promise not to peek next year if I use the same hiding place?” He nodded. I had my feet resting on the trunk we used as a coffee table, but lowered one of them to undo the latch and pop up the lid.

Eric made an “oh” expression. “I emptied that out a while ago to use the blankets to cover your presents.”

We both laughed, then took our time opening gifts. He and I examined each, sharing thanks and sweet kisses. I had bought Eric several camera and studio accessories he had been wanting, a new parka for these windy, cold New York City days and evenings and a couple of sexy bathing suits I wanted him to wear on the Greek island vacation we had planned for the new year. He had bought me some beautiful sweaters, some antique books I had admired when we were shopping at the Cape and a framed article from a Yastarus newspaper that outlined my accomplishments as president and overstated credit for preventing the country’s drift to communism. The frame was exquisite and must have cost Eric a small fortune. It was such a thoughtful gift—something he had done some research to find.

“Last one.” Eric sighed, looking at the wrapped jewelry box on his lap. I realized from his expression that he was hoping it was an engagement ring. It wasn’t, and I felt apprehension about the disappointment he’d feel upon opening the box.

“Baby, it’s not what you might be thinking,” I warned. “I hope you’ll still think it’s special, though.”

His eyes clouded for a moment before he forced a smile. “I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m sure I’ll love it.” He opened the box and pulled out the chain that had a coin-like medallion. I knew he wouldn’t be able to make out what it said without his contact lenses in, and he was too vain to put on his glasses. I reached over to the end table, pulled them out of its drawer, and insisted he put them on. He sighed, but did so.

“I don’t know why you hate your glasses so much,” I wondered. “The black frames make you so…what’s the expression? Adorkable.”

He rolled his eyes, but then put the coin in his mouth and bit down. “Hmm.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, wondering if he lost his mind. “It isn’t candy.”

“The box says it’s fourteen ‘carrot’ white gold. I wanted to make sure you didn’t get rooked when you bought this,” he joked.