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“I-I don’t understand,” I start, but he silences me with another kiss, then cups my face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across my cheeks.
“You will soon. Head through there.” He points to an archway and gives me a gentle push on my lower back. With nerves fluttering in my belly, I will my trembling legs to walk into a huge open area. The gourmet kitchen, with tall white upper cabinets and dark gray lowers, is bright and airy. Connected to it is a massive island with at least ten barstools.
And sitting at the island, twisting the stem of a rose in his fingers, is none other than Rogan. “What is this?” I ask, moving to him, totally confused but completely excited.
He pushes his chair back and stands, smiling as I near, and hands me the rose he holds. “For you,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss me. “But there’s more. Look.” Rogan points to the room beyond the kitchen. It’s a giant, two-storey family room with a stone fireplace that reaches all the way up to the second floor. Knit stockings hang off the sprawling mantel, which is decorated with a Christmas city.
Gray suede couches and armchairs face each other in a U-shape, and tall windows line one entire side. There’s even a Christmas tree. It must be fifteen feet tall and covered in lights, and there are even some presents under it.
But the most breathtaking thing of all isn’t the tree or the fireplace, it’s the man who makes my heart pitter-patter with just a glance. Maddox leans against the back wall between the tree and the fireplace. His huge arms are crossed over his leather jacket, and he has one foot propped against the wall behind him, his legs looking toned in his crisp jeans.
He pulls his sunglasses down off his head and tucks them into his jacket before offering me another rose. “Take it. It’s yours.”
“I don’t understand,” I mutter as Maddox pulls me in for a breathtaking kiss that leaves my pussy clenching and my heart pounding.
I hear Rogan’s and Alistair’s footsteps coming up behind me, and I turn to look at them as Alistair leaps over the couch and sweeps me into his arms. “Come on in and sit down. I heard Santa came,” he says with a grin.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter again, knowing I sound like a broken record as Rogan rushes past us. Alistair sits me down, and Rogan reaches under the tree and grabs a rather large, flat, square present meticulously wrapped with glittery red paper and bright white ribbon.
“Here,” he says, handing it to me. “Open it.”
Resting the bottom on the floor, I rip open the paper and gasp at what I see inside. Tears burn my eyes and my throat clogs as my hand comes up to cover my face.
“Do you like it?” Rogan asks, sounding unsure, as if I could possibly hate something like this.
“I love it,” I sob, pulling the rest of the paper off so I can see the whole thing, revealing the beauty of the painting. It’s a mirror image of the one and only picture I have of my family, the one from my sixth birthday.
Staring back at me, their faces exquisitely captured in Rogan’s paints, are my parents, Mitchel, and me, preserved forever in a gilded frame.
“Rogan, I-I don’t even know what to say,” I choke out as tears run down my cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t believe you did this.” Rogan smiles and pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “I love it so much.”
“And I love you,” he whispers so quietly, I almost think I imagined it.
Startled, I lift my head and gaze up at him, searching his eyes. “You…You love me?”
“More than anything, Hellcat,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands in soothing strokes up and down my back.
“My turn!” Alistair calls, leaping over the couch as he rushes to the tree. Rogan kisses my head and sits me back down, lowering himself next to me as Maddox sits on my other side. Alistair grabs a large white gift bag with a Santa hat on it and hands it to me. “Here! I hope you like it.”
His cheeks heat as I take the gift and pull out the green and red tissue paper. My eyebrows furrow when I see a familiar logo, my high school logo. Reaching in, I grab the item and lift it from the bag. Alistair is hiding behind his hands, peeking through two of his fingers as I look at it.
I hold it away from me, really seeing what it is, and when I do, the tears start flowing again. It’s my brother’s old hoodie, and it’s been made into a pillow.
“Do you like it?” Alistair questions uncertainly, as I squeeze the pillow to my chest and hug it. It makes me feel like he’s here, Mitchel, and he’s hugging me back. Fuck, it even smells like him.
“I love it, Alistair,” I whisper, my voice caught in my throat. “It’s so fucking thoughtful…I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Alistair pulls me into him, and I breathe in his scent as he hugs me fiercely. “I’d do anything for you. I love you.”
My heart skips a beat, and I peer up at him. “You love me too?” It comes out as a question because I didn’t think I could be that lucky, didn’t think I’d ever fall in love with one man and have him love me in return, much less two men.
“You bet your sweet ass I do.” He grins, then leans down to kiss me before bopping me on the nose.
“Okay, okay, enough with the lovey-dovey shit,” Maddox growls out from the couch. “Come here and sit on my lap. Tell me how naughty you’ve been.”
He pats his legs, and I leave Alistair to sit with my burley, growly Dixen brother. “Did you wear panties?” he whispers in my ear, encircling my neck with his hand.
“Nope,” I reply as I wiggle my ass on his leg.
