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I lead her to a nearby bench and we sit, our shoulders touching as we sip our drinks in companionable silence for a few minutes.
“It’s a beautiful evening,” Charity murmurs, tipping her head back and gazing at the sky.
Darkness has fallen while we were in Bevans, and the stars twinkle like Christmas lights in the clear night sky.
“It is,” I agree, but my eyes are on her lovely face. She shines brighter than any of those heavenly bodies with her rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes. She’s fucking adorable.
“He was so proud of you,” I murmur, surprising myself with my words as much as Charity.
She turns to face me, her eyes shimmering. “I know,” she whispers. “He told me all the time. He wasn’t afraid to show his emotions. Being a SEAL, he knew his time could be up at any point, and he never wanted to leave anything unsaid. He lived his life to the full. He loved all the seasons and all the holidays, but he particularly loved Christmas.”
Charity has a distant look as she loses herself in memories.
She takes a sip of her cocoa. “He never told you this, but every year, he dressed up as an elf with me on Christmas morning, and we handed out presents at the children’s hospital in Vermont.”
“He never said a word.” I shake my head with a smile. That was Luke all over. He was unselfish with his time and energy. “Luke was like that when we were deployed, too, you know.”
“Like what?” Charity asks, her blue eyes fixed on my face.
“A goofball. The life and soul. His enthusiasm rubbed off on everyone. The times we were deployed at Christmas, he cut paper into tiny pieces to make snowflakes and stuck them everywhere. One year, his gift was a pair of old socks that already belonged to me.”
Charity bursts out laughing. “Yeah, that was Luke all over. That’s why Christmas is so important to me. I try to honor his memory every year by making it the biggest and best holiday possible.”
A tear tracks down her cheek, and she hastily wipes it away. I pull her close, sliding an arm around her, and she rests her cheek on my shoulder. My heart swells as I drop a kiss on the top of herhead.Having her in my arms feels right. How can something so right possibly be wrong?
But then the guilt kicks in. Will I ever be free of it?I don’t deserve to be happy when Luke is in the cold, hard ground. Survivor's guilt is real. It dug its claws into me the day Luke died, and I’m not sure how to get the beast to release me.
I stand reluctantly and hold out a hand, helping Charity to her feet.“I should get you home. You’ve got all that wrapping to do.”
Charity masks her disappointment with a smile that punches me hard in my aching heart.
“Okay.” She walks toward the arch that leads to the parking lot.Suddenly, she stops and turns to me, looking at something above her head.
I frown. “What is it?”
“Mistletoe,” she whispers conspiratorially.
Oh, no.
“It’s bad luck not to kiss when caught beneath the mistletoe,” she says with a smirk.
I glance at the innocent-looking fat white berries wrapped in red ribbon and wonder if some greater force is working against me.
“Fine,” I say abruptly. One peck on the lips can’t hurt.
I brush my mouth across hers and pull back. Charity’s blue eyes shine with fascination and invitation, and suddenly, that light touch isn’t enough.
I cup her face and drop my mouth to hers again, more firmly this time. Her warm, spicy sweetness invades my senses, and with a groan, I sweep my tongue over her lips, needing more of her addictive taste. I nip at her bottom lip, and she gasps. I take advantage and slide my tongue inside to meet hers.
A soft moan comes from somewhere in her throat, and my entire body reacts. My cock hardens to steel in my pants as Itug her against me, and she winds her arms around my neck. My hands find her hips, pressing her delicious curves even more tightly to my hardness, and I’m about to deepen the kiss when a blinding flash startles us.
I look across to the source of the flash, pulling Charity closer to me, protecting her from whatever is coming our way.
A bright voice chirps about photos only being five dollars and how they would make a lovely Christmas card.
Reality returns with a vengeance.
What the fuck was I thinking?I wasn’t. Not with the head on my shoulders, anyway.
