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As much as I wanted to whisk her away and worship her sexy fucking body the way she deserves, I also wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and rock her back and forth. I wanted to rub her feet while she sipped hot chocolate. I wanted to tuck Carson in bed and then tuck Melissa in bed before crawling in behind her and snuggling with her all night.
None of that is like me. I'm not a cuddler, and I certainly never pictured having a kid, but one look at Melissa and Carson, and I knew they were my future. They were the reason I came back here to Christmas, Michigan.
I joined the Army right out of high school, despite my poor mother and grandmother begging me to stay and go to college. It was just the three of us growing up. I never knew my dad, but it didn’t matter. My life was filled with so much love I didn’t have time to worry about why he ran off.
That’s another reason my heart went out to Melissa. I saw my mom have her fair share of struggles raising me without a partner. She had my grandma, but I know it’s not the same as having someone else there full-time. Someone whose job is to provide, protect, and take care of their family. That’s what I want to be for Melissa and Carson. I know I’m the man for the job. I feel it with every part of me.
I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my life after I was wounded and honorably discharged three years ago. I moved around a bit, trying to find a town and a job that felt like a good fit, but I always became restless after a few months.
Finally, my mom convinced me to come back home and work as a firefighter. With my military background, she assured me I was a shoo-in. She was right. I got done with my training a few months ago, and the guys at the firehouse have fully accepted me into the family. It's the kind of camaraderie I missed from my time in the military. I thought it was perfect and that I'd finally found my place.
But that was before meeting Melissa and Carson.
To quote "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," my heart grew three sizes that day. I made space for them without even realizing it. I had no idea how empty I was until Melissa and Carson drove away.
A week later, and I'm kicking myself for not even getting her number or her last name. After they left and I got done talking to my captain, I considered asking the daycare for her information, but ultimately decided against it. Melissa seemed ashamed and embarrassed that day for crying in front of the other parents, and the last thing I wanted was to draw more attention to her by feeding the rumor mill. There are many advantages to living in a close-knit community like Christmas, but privacy isn't one of them.
That's why I've been hesitant to ask my grandmother about Melissa. Yes, Mable Thatcher is perhaps the worst gossip of them all, but she has a heart of gold and would never be malicious about all the information she seems to have about everyone in town.
However, after a week of trying to track my woman down, I don't have much of a choice. Every morning I wake up feeling empty and desperately lonely. My chest hurts, literallyachesfor her. I know I'll have to be careful with my angel, but I can't go one more day without at least seeing her and making sure she's okay.
The last time I saw her, she still had tears drying on her cute little cheeks. I never want to see her that way again. I want to see her teal eyes sparkle as she smiles at me. I want to hear her voice when it's not trembling and laced with panic. I want to touch her, feel her, kiss every inch of her supple body…
"Drake! What are you doing standing on my porch? It's colder than a yeti's dick out there, get your ass inside!"
My dear old grandma sure has a way with words.
I chuckle and join her inside her house, not surprised in the least when she already has a tray of cookies on the table along with two mugs of coffee. I'd ask if she's expecting company, but Grandma being Grandma, I know she somehow figured out I'd be stopping by today. I swear that woman is a mind-reader.
I give my grandma a hug and join her at her kitchen table. She waits for me to state my business, with one eyebrow crooked up and a knowing smile on her face.
"I was hoping you would know where I can find Melissa… Well, I'm not sure of her last name, but I figure you already know who I'm talking about," I start. Her lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes go soft. Good. Grandma is on my side.
"Finally!" she says exasperatedly. "I was wondering when you would come see me about your woman." I can't hold back my grin. "I wish I would have thought of setting you two up sooner. You're perfect for her, and I think she and Carson are exactly what you need in your life.”
"I couldn't agree more, Grams. So, will you help me out?" She gets a devious look in her eyes that I know all too well. "I don't want you meddling," I'm quick to add.
"Meddle? Me?" Grams says in shock before laughing.
"I'm serious. Melissa is skittish when it comes to relationships, and I don't want to push her too far or scare her away." I'm not sure how I know that about her, but I feel the truth of it deep in my bones. I'll have to be gentle with her heart.
My grandma eyes me up and down before smiling again. It's softer this time, most of the deviousness gone. With one nod of her head, I know she’s on my side.
"So, are you going to tell me how I can find her?" I ask.
Grams takes a sip of her coffee and then slowly eats a cookie, drawing out the suspense. She can be very dramatic at times, but I'll humor her as long as I get an answer before I leave.
"A little birdie told me she usually treats herself to hot chocolate after work on Thursdays."
"Today is Thursday," I say stupidly.
"Oh, is it?" she asks way too innocently. "Hm. Well, this chatty little bird told me she gets off work around five, picks up that sweet little boy of hers, and then heads to the Holly Jolly bakery."
I look at the clock and see it's a quarter to five now. What luck. My woman must be orderly and like having plans if she schedules a little sugar indulgence in her weekly routine. It's just one more piece of information about her that I'll cherish. "Thanks, Grams," I say, standing up in a rush.
"Wait!" she calls out right as I'm at the front door. "Take a cookie for goodness sake," she scolds, getting up and putting three cookies into a plastic Ziplock bag. She doesn't have to say who the other two are for.
“You want me to take cookies into a bakery? Do you want Mrs. Marin to kill me?”
