snorted a laugh. “Tonight at midnight. That’s the rule.”
“Gah, even when I let you get to third base, you won’t let me open any presents? You’re mean.”
“I am. It’s my cross to bear.” He sat upright, bringing her with him. “And I think I got past third base a long time ago. What shall we do today?”
“Have more sex?”
“That’s a given. But I’ll let you rest a little before we get back to it again.” His grin was quick and sure. “The downtown area looks nice. Want to hit a few galleries and have lunch?”
“Yes. And when we get back, I’ll make margaritas because I totally brought the blender. And we can play some cards.”
He set her on her feet. “You’re vicious at cards. It’s really sexy.”
“I’m a little, um, sticky. A shower and then some breakfast would be good. Then shopping. Yes, shopping sounds mighty fine.” She scampered off in the direction of the bathroom, knowing he’d be along shortly.
Jude stretched and called ahead to the concierge to get some ideas on where to lunch. It was Christmas Eve after all and he figured better safe to get reservations than to be hungry and frustrated by either a long wait or going place to place.
Once that was handled, he grabbed a shower, heroically not jumping on her again, and they drove into town where the concierge had told them a bakery would have freshly baked offerings, good coffee and she’d been right.
“Despite that skanky ho-bag who would have hit me over the head with her coffee pot if you’d given her any indication you were interested, I gotta say, this is the best bearclaw I’ve ever had. Good call on skipping the restaurant at the inn to go here instead.”
She looked like a fucking angel there on the sidewalk, snow falling around her, her hair peeking from beneath the hat, eyes wide with excitement.
“I got your back, darlin’. Don’t worry, if any skanky ho-bags come at you with coffee pots I’ll trip ’em before they get close.”
“Ha. I can take out the ho-bags all on my own. I’m an Olympic gold medalist at it by now.” She muttered a little more and he kissed her temple, smiling. Truth was he rarely noticed it when women hit on him these days.
“You know I don’t give a crap about any of that, right?”
She looked up at him with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You can still walk, can’t you? If I thought you cared, this would be a whole different conversation. It’s hard to get used to, but I think I finally am. And they’re not as bad as they used to be back home.”
Yeah, he thought it had gotten easier in town. Oh, he knew many people thought he was a rebound, or that he’d step out on her, but the longer they’d been together, the more they’d been a unit everywhere they went, the doubters had begun to realize they’d been wrong.
It stung, he admitted, that people had judged him as such a player. Mainly because he’d given them all a reason to believe he might fuck things up. She’d changed him, shaken him hard enough that losing her had taught him the best lesson he’d ever had.
Years later now, he knew without a single doubt in his mind that she was his and they had a forever type thing. The thought of it had scared him so much that it had taken losing it entirely for him to see Rori for the incredible woman she was, for understanding she was a person who made him whole.
And beyond his wildest hopes, she’d come to him again and given him a second chance. Man could live a long, happy life with that kind of luck.
“You’re up to something. I do like that about you.” She took his hand again now that she’d finished the bearclaw.
He flashed her a grin. “I’m always up to something when it comes to you. That’s how I roll.”
She laughed as they set out down the picturesque street, pausing to look in windows or to stop and look at this or that. Once she was inside a Christmas-themed shop and oohing and aaahing over stuff, he told her he’d left his gloves a few