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said, then
winked. Mr. Lawson cleared his throat and went to the living
room.
    Silly busybodies. Beth met his eyes and he
snickered. With her family gone, he said, “Get dressed, woman. I
have presents.”
    She pouted. “But yours is at home.”
    “Correction—I already got mine.”
    Her cheeks turned pink. “Oh. Yeah. Gee, if
I’d known you were that easy to please…”
    “Hush, vixen, or I withhold your gifts until next Christmas.”
    When she left him in the hallway, he
freshened up in the bathroom, then had nowhere else to go but the
living room to wait with her kin. Darcy was a gracious hostess,
handing him the coffee she’d offered before starting breakfast.
    Beth finally appeared in a white dress shirt
and burgundy pants, the necklace he’d given her in Bora Bora
peeking from inside her collar. Her hair was down and straight.
When she bent down to give him a peck, he could smell the
conditioner she’d used since she was fourteen.
    They ate, then the Lawsons moved to the tree
to open gifts. He and Beth sat on the loveseat, her leg touching
his. Darcy started a pot of hot wassail, which she offered in
Styrofoam cups to the neighbors that dropped by. All the activity
made Beth fidget, so he tried to hold her hand when he could. Some
of Darcy and Andrew’s friends might’ve recognized him, but no one
made a scene.
    The warmth, the cheer, the conversation…it
was all very homey, and very different from the Christmases with
Mother. Oh, they’d always been pleasant, but with just the two of
them since he was five years old, they had struggled to fill the
hours.
    Later in the evening, he and Beth were left
alone for a moment. He led her to the window seat behind the tree
and kissed her.
    “What was that for?” she asked.
    “Opportunity. Listen…” He fidgeted with a
small box he pulled from his pocket. “I wanted to give you this. We
can exchange the rest at home, but I couldn’t wait.” He handed over
the Tiffany box.
    Her blue eyes widened. “Jacob, this is—”
    “Just open it.”
    Inside was a silver fob with one key on the
ring. “A key?”
    “My key. Don’t wig out—I’m not asking for
anything, I just… I want you to know you’re welcome in my home just
as much as before, only—”
    She put a finger to his lips and smiled. “I
understand. Thank you.”
    He let out a breath of relief and gathered
her into his arms. “Merry Christmas, Beth.” Two months had given
him a lot of time to think, so much time to miss her, and she
probably didn’t understand what the key really meant, but he hoped
she’d use it. Hoped she would come to consider his home like her
own.
    “Merry Christmas, Jacob. I’m so glad you
came.” She laced her fingers with his and led him to the
kitchen.
    After three Christmases with Beth by his
side, he couldn’t, wouldn’t , have done another without
her.
    Not when they were finally together
again.
    Not when she finally told him she loved
him.
    So, he didn’t care about sleeping in the
living room to appease her family instead of holding her in bed.
They’d had a good day and while the sofa didn’t pull out, it was
big enough for comfort and the room was dark (except for the lights
on the tree) and warm. Almost enough to convince his buggered
internal clock to sleep.
    His eyes opened when the blanket lifted off
his chest. “Mmm, my Bethie…”
    She draped her body over him. “Didn’t mean to
wake you,” she whispered.
    He yawned. “Didn’t. I’m still on Russian
time.”
    She caressed his face. “Sleep if you want to.
I just wanted to be close while you’re here.”
    And didn’t that shoot him to Cloud Nine. He
lifted his head to kiss her. “I love you.”
    “Love you, too.” She laid her head on his
pec. “You should’ve called more.”
    “I’m sorry. My assistant lost my phone
charger. I wish you were with me.” The next album, next tour, he’d
insist upon it, even if he had to kidnap her.
    “Does your phone work now?”
    “Replaced the