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The shock turned wicked. “I scared you.” She wiggled her brows, and I looked down, stepping into my jeans.
“You are very scary,” I teased, and watched as she pursed her lips, giving me the grumpiest face I’d seen yet.
“You don’t have to go and be like that.”
Grinning, I began tucking the shirt into my pants. “Open the next one.”
“Okay!” she replied, quickly snapping out of her attitude. She gently placed the picture next to the two remaining wrapped gifts and tore open the second, only slightly larger one. “Oh my gosh!” she squealed, and pulled out the outfit I’d bought her.
Placing the dress in front of her body, she spun in a circle. “Look at it!” she gushed, as I zipped my pants up. I paused, watching as she ran her hand over the cream sweater top portion. Sliding her hand down, she squealed again as the red and green plaid skirt flared with her movement.
“You missed something.” I nodded toward the gift, and she looked inside once more.
“No way!” She pulled out the matching thigh high wool socks. They were the same Christmas plaid pattern as the skirt and warm. Even though it was a shorter dress and wasn’t the smartest outfit of choice when it came to a Montana winter, I remembered the dress that had been ruined at Thanksgiving. This was my attempt at wanting to try and gift her something similar.
“I love it! So, so much!” She squeezed the outfit to her chest and then paused. “I’m going to go put it on!”
“Shower first, darling. You smell like hospital,” I quickly teased, and she stuck her tongue out at me before disappearing with her new outfit in hand. I chuckled, finishing dressing in the clothes she’d given me.
Tying the wild rag around my neck, I sighed. It was still a little out there, but for her, I would proudly wear it. As much as she wanted and whenever she asked.
Her final gift, for now, sat on the bed, waiting. I heard the shower turn on and quickly got to work cleaning up the room a little.
Making the bed, tidying up, even organizing her shoes for her while she got ready.
No matter how busy I made myself, she seemed to still remain in that bathroom.
Even after the shower turned off a while ago, the minutes trudged by.
I sat down on the bed.
Stood up and paced in the room.
Sat back down on the bed.
Checking the time, I grimaced. It was a quarter past eleven, and we still hadn’t made it outside. The party had begun.
Then the doorknob clicked and it swung open.
I watched as the most beautiful woman waltzed into the room. The wait had been worth it. Her hair was dry, loosely pinned up at the base of her skull. She’d left a few strands out, they whispered against her cheeks that were dabbed lightly in that pink stuff that women used in their makeup. Her lashes were coated in mascara, highlighting how large and incredibly beautiful they were.
My eyes slid down her body, the dress hitting all the right places. There was a sliver of skin between the bottom of the skirt and where the tights started and I felt warm all over. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice timid.
I was at a loss for words. There wasn’t a single description in the dictionary for what I thought. So I walked forward instead, and gently placed a kiss against her lips. Lightly and briefly. “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful,” I whispered.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and quickly wiped some lip gloss from my mouth.
“Oh, and sorry it took me a little longer. I quickly ran upstairs to check my dad before they scooted off to the party,” she added, and I smiled, quickly pecking her forehead. Fine by me.
“Last one.” I nodded toward the final, large present. “This one though, I think you can leave it in the box for today,” I added as she slid over to the gift. She tried really hard to hide her excitement, but it was plastered all across her face.
She hesitated for half a second and then tore it open. Her brows pinched together as she studied the box. “Is this…?” she muttered, and popped open the lid.
Her fingers reached inside as I watched.
“Is this mine?” she asked, and gently raised the felt cowgirl hat from the hat box. I nodded as she brushed her hands across the brim. I’d had it shaped exactly like mine, but instead of black, I picked cream. She wore a lot of creams and white beanies so I figured she’d like that color.
“Weston…” she breathlessly said, and placed the hat on her head. Her cheeks turned an even darker rosy shade, and she tapped them with her hands. “I have my own cowboy hat.”
