The original photo might have been a work ID, or a picture taken by a coworker. It was a close-up, head and shoulders only, but my dad was smiling into the camera, his broad shoulders covered by one of his usual navy work shirts.
My fingers were trembling as I traced the outline of my father’s face inside the glass cover. “This is how I remember him. No matter how hard he worked, or how hard life was, he was always smiling.”
Trace sat back down on the bed and put his arm around me. “Then you’re very much alike,” he observed.
We were alike. The prominent picture gave me back a little piece of my dad, and made me remember how proud I was to be his daughter. “How do I thank you for something like this?”
“Kiss me?” he suggested hopefully.
I took the picture and carefully set it on my bedside table. It was really too big to set on a shelf, but I’d figure out where to hang it later.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I moved in closer and whispered against his lips, “Thank you.” Then, I kissed him, pouring every emotion I was feeling into the embrace.
It was funny how our Christmas gifts were so similar. I’d actually bought a very large frame and inserted the pictures of him, his father and his brothers into the spaces provided, photos that seemed to be shoved in drawers all over his house. I thought it would look good in his office. Strange how both of us seemed to want the other to remember happier times, a time before our lives had ended up in ruin. That gift, along with a few other small items, was already wrapped and under the tree for him to open in the morning.
We both came out of the kiss almost breathless. Trace stood up and pulled me to my feet, slowly undressing me as though he’d been doing it for years before he lowered me gently to the bed, and tucked the sheets and comforter around me.
He went to the closet and quickly donned a bathrobe and moved toward the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked from my comfortable cocoon.
“Making sure Britney is gone by morning.”
He left before I had a chance to say anything else, but he was back within in a few minutes.
Trace shucked the robe, turned off the light, and slid in beside me. “Done,” he affirmed as he gathered me up in his arms.
I almost purred with contentment as our bodies met skin-to-skin. “That quickly?”
“Sweetheart, she’s not as scary as you might think. She’s a woman who preys on rich men. The last thing she’d do is spill secrets. It’s not good for her future prospects.”
“Is Dane okay?”
“Having her leave early was his idea. Once I told him she was threatening you, he was ready to get rid of her. He likes you. So does Sebastian.”
“I’d like to tell them the truth eventually,” I told him hesitantly. I’d always wanted a brother, and I planned on making Trace’s family my own.
“Then tell them. You can decide whether or not you want to share your past. It doesn’t matter to me in any way except that I hate how much you suffered.”
I cuddled into his warm body, feeling so content that I couldn’t move if the house was on fire. God, I loved the way he trusted my judgment, the way he was willing to accept anything I decided to do. “I’ll think about it.”
I was tired, and my eyes closed as I relaxed against him. “I love you so much. Merry Christmas, Trace.”
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he replied as he kissed me tenderly on the forehead.
As I drifted off to sleep, I marveled at the fact that this Christmas hadn’t exactly gone the way I’d planned. I’d known that this job with Trace would change my life, but I just didn’t know how much.
I never imagined when I’d went with plan ‘A’ the day I met Trace, that not only would I be saved from the streets, but I’d end up truly being loved.
For a woman like me who had never known a whole lot of love in her life, it was nothing less than a miracle, and the best gift I could ever receive.
I feel asleep with a smile on my lips and my arms wrapped tightly around my best Christmas present ever.
Epilogue
Trace
Several Months Later…
Any man who thinks getting married isn’t stressful for the groom is a damn idiot!
I was a nervous wreck as I waited in the ante room assigned to the groom and groomsmen, waiting for what seemed like forever to be called to take our places.
Dane looked uncomfortable in his black tuxedo that was very similar to mine, but he wasn’t complaining. I knew it wasn’t easy for him to leave his island to stand up for me at my wedding, and I was damn grateful he was there. I knew he was doing it for me…and for Eva. My youngest brother had become very fond of Eva, and since she called him several times a week, he was starting to become a little more social. My sweet Eva could be stubborn, and she had been pretty damned determined to see me, Sebastian and Dane become as close as we were when we were young.