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I stare down at the letter clutched in my hands.
How can Presley think she means so little to me? Not a day has passed since her interview three years ago that I haven’t imagined what it would be like to have her in my arms. I wasn’t willing to compromise her reputation by pursuing a relationship with her, so I’ve always kept my distance. Most days I’m lucky to get a few stolen glances around the office while she’s taking notes or typing away on her computer.
To her, I’ve always come across as aloof and cold, because I was doing what it took to keep things strictly professional between us. In truth, I think I’ve been in love with Presley Stafford for the better part of three years, and I’m finally done pretending that I’m not.
She might not know it yet, but I’m going to make sure tomorrow is a Christmas she’ll never forget.
12
PRESLEY
“TIME TO GET UP, BEAUTIFUL.” Jack peppers kisses along my jawline while tenderly stroking my hair.
“Go away.” I roll over, throwing a pillow on top of my face. “It’s way too early. The sun isn’t even up yet.” I motion in the general direction of the window, my head still buried.
“It’s Christmas morning, remember?” He lightly traces patterns along my neck while he patiently attempts to coax me from the comfort of the bed. “If you don’t get up, I’m afraid your surprise will be ruined.”
A surprise? For me?
That catches my attention, and I lift my pillow to peek over at him with one eye open. “What kind of surprise?”
He chuckles softly. “The kind that I can’t tell you about unless you get dressed and come with me.”
“This better be good,” I mumble.
“Oh, trust me, it is,” he promises. “Make sure to dress warm; we’re going outside.”
I give him a wary glance before climbing out of bed and changing into a pair of fleece-lined leggings, a thermal sweater, and wool socks.
The house is completely silent as we exit my bedroom and tiptoe down the two flights of creaky stairs. My brothers and Lola spent the night, and the last thing anyone wants is for Lola to wake up before sunrise, begging to open her presents.
When we get to the entryway, Jack stops me.
“What—”
He presses his finger to his lips, reminding me to be quiet, and holds out a black satin blindfold.
“Is that necessary?” I whisper.
“You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” he jokes.
“No, I guess not.”
I comply with his request, turning around so he can tie the blindfold into place.
I’m not sure why I’m being so moody. He’s only trying to do something nice, and all I’ve done since I woke up is complain.
I can’t see a thing as Jack guides me to the front door, a cold breeze biting at my cheeks once we step outside. He holds me close as he leads me down the steps toward the driveway.
I can hear the faint sound of hooves clomping on the ground and low whinnies.
“What are horses doing here?”
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” He exhales. “We’re taking a horse-drawn sleigh to where we’re going. I think it’s easiest if I lift you inside. Is that okay?”
I give a small nod, and he scoops me into his arms and climbs inside what I assume is the carriage. There must be someone else driving the sleigh, but I decide against asking any more questions to avoid ruining the surprise. Jack places me on a soft, cushioned seat and wraps a blanket around us, and I eagerly cuddle against his chest, rubbing my cheek against the warmth of his neck.
As the minutes pass, I become more excited about what he has in store. It’s our last day together, and I’m grateful that we’ll have some time alone to talk about where we go from here. I don’t want him going back to New York until we’ve set expectations for what happens next.
