Reading Online Novel

After the Christmas Party(47)



“I didn’t say I did anything. But maybe you were a very good girl this year, and Santa came to see you last night.”

She didn’t want him making her depend on him even more than she already did. That was becoming more and more difficult each day and after last night…She shook her head. He probably thought her a charity case all the way round. Maybe that’s what the past few weeks had been about. She was this year’s Christmas project. “No, whatever it is you’ve done, just undo it.”

His jaw tightened. “You want me to undo your Christmas morning?”

She nodded. “I don’t want you being nice to me.”

“Now I’m really confused.”

“Don’t you see?” She fought sniffling. “You’ve got to stop doing this.”

His eyes filled with concern. “I don’t see at all. You’ve stumped me. What exactly do I have to stop doing?”

“Making me want to believe.”

He reached over, ran his finger across her face and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Now, why would I want you to stop believing when the whole idea is to make you believe in Christmas?”

Only she hadn’t been talking about Christmas.

She’d been referring to him.





CHAPTER TWELVE



RILEY SCRATCHED HIS head in total confusion while Trinity got out of the bed without his assistance and with the comforter wrapped around her delectable body. He’d have liked to have woken her up with kisses, but he hadn’t wanted her to get the wrong idea.

Which meant there was a right idea.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but he figured he had some time to figure it out. To figure them out because he wasn’t a forever kind of man and she deserved her own happy-ever-after.

At least he’d thought he had time and had told himself he just wouldn’t think about the future today, that he’d focus on the holiday and giving Trinity a day to remember always.

He just didn’t understand why she’d be back to bah-humbugging after the night they’d shared. He’d thought the night amazing, had expected all smiles and happiness on his favorite day of the year. Instead, she’d seemed determined to be contrary. Did she want to ruin their day? To fight?

Frowning, he slipped his shirt from the night before back on and went into his living room, surveying the room and trying to see it as she would.

He hadn’t gone overboard at his house, just hung on his fireplace mantel a stocking with her name in glitter on it. Plus a few presents. He’d wanted her main gift to be a complete surprise. Had he not done a little something for her, she’d definitely have suspected.

He wanted to catch her off guard and blow her mind.

“Riley?”

He hadn’t heard her step up behind him.

“What is all this?”

She’d put on one of his T-shirts and a drawstring pair of shorts that came down past her knees. She’d combed her hair and tied it back with a rubber band. Her face was freshly washed and ethereally beautiful. She looked like an angel.

One he was now afraid to touch for fear of upsetting her further. For fear that his feelings might show and set up expectations he couldn’t follow through on.

“Christmas morning.”

She glanced around the room, taking in where he had their breakfast cooked and waiting on the table, taking in the small package sitting beside her plate, taking in all the details of the room but not smiling. Instead, she looked distraught. “Why?”

He could list any number of reasons and all of them rang with truth. The panicky paleness to her face warned he might have miscalculated who she really was. “Because I want to make you happy.”

But had obviously failed miserably.

Her face pinched with obvious disappointment. “You think you have to give me things to do that?”

“No.” He frowned. She was taking all his efforts the wrong way. Not at all how he’d envisioned. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s more blessed to give than to receive?”

Without saying anything, she walked over to the fireplace mantel, ran her finger over the red velvet stocking with her name on it.

“There are presents inside.”

She glanced down at the bulges in the stocking. Her face was still pinched. “I see that.”

“They’re yours.” He’d wanted to watch her tear into the presents with excited gusto, wanted joy to sparkle on her face and laughter to curve her lips. He’d wanted her to throw her arms around him and wish him a merry Christmas. Instead, she appeared to be somewhere between starting to cry and darting out of the room.

“I…I’m not sure.”

She didn’t intend to open his gifts? What the…? He sucked in a deep breath. “Fine. If you don’t want to open your presents, we can eat breakfast first.”