“How about a shower together? If we don’t get out of bed soon, then I’m afraid I won’t want to leave all day…and with everybody set to arrive in a couple hours, that wouldn’t be very hospitable of us.”
My previous disappointment over his rejection disappears, and I smirk wickedly. “Can we fool around in there?”
“When have we not?” he quips, yanking the sheet off our naked bodies and inviting a chill to nip at my skin.
With only thirty minutes, we manage to sneak in a quickie before getting cleaned up and dressed for the day. We have so much to do still, but we need to make sure the turkey gets in the oven first—as per our mothers’ extremely precise instructions.
I head over to my room and pull on a pair of jeans and a soft red sweater. I forego socks for now, and then I meet Greyston in the hall so we can get started on the morning preparations and have a bite to eat.
“You look nice,” I tell him, appraising his faded jeans and gray sweater.
“Thanks.” He takes my hand. “As usual, you look absolutely stunning.” He pushes a strand of my damp hair back from my face, his fingers trailing down until it traces the neckline of my shirt. “This color against your skin…this neckline…” His eyes follow the trail his finger sets, stopping at the lowest point of my neckline. I begin to worry that maybe it’s a little too immodest for Christmas with our families. His gaze only lingers for a second before he looks at me again.
“Is it too low? Should I change? I mean, our parents and my gran will be here… I don’t want to offend anyone.”
Smiling, Greyston shakes his head. “It’s perfect. You have nothing to worry about.” He presses his lips to mine and takes my hand. “Come on. We should go start in the kitchen before everyone arrives.”
Greyston starts on breakfast while I begin prepping the turkey for the oven. Our families will be arriving around noon, and Greyston suggested we have a light breakfast since we’d probably be grazing all day before dinner was ready this evening. We’re expecting our mothers to bring quite a bit of food, so we don’t want to be too full.
Our breakfast is ready just as I’m putting the turkey in the oven, so we sit and have a private breakfast. I look at Greyston as he takes a bite, and I smile, spearing a few eggs on my fork. “So, are you going to give me a little hint about my present?” I ask.
“Sorry,” he replies. “It’s a surprise.”
He’s been saying the same damn thing for the past few days. It’s starting to get old. I don’t really expect him to tell me anything, but I’m naturally curious how he even managed to get me anything when I really gave him nothing to work with.
“I don’t even understand how you found something for me. I mean, all I said was I wanted to sit around and relax over winter break. How does that equate to a present?”
All he does is shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to wait until everyone gets here to find out.”
The doorbell rings before I can try to find out anything else, and my eyes widen with excitement. “Looks like I won’t be waiting that long to find out!” I cry out, kissing him quickly. I take my plate to the sink and then run through the house to answer the front door while Greyston starts to clean the kitchen.
“Merry Christmas!” I exclaim when I open the door to find my parents and grandmother. I hug them each before taking their coats and hanging them in the closet. I take Gran’s hand and hook it into my arm as I lead them through the house to the kitchen. Greyston had wanted to meet Gran the other day when I picked her up, but wound up getting stuck at work. He was pretty disappointed about it, actually.
“Your father and I will just go put the gifts under the tree, sweetheart,” Mom tells me before turning and heading the other direction.
“Sure, Mom.” I shift my focus back to my grandmother. “I’ll show Gran the kitchen.”
We walk into the kitchen just as Greyston is finishing up with the dishes. I can tell he’s a little nervous, and I can’t help but feel it’s my fault for telling him that Gran is a pretty traditional woman.
“Hello,” Greyston speaks up, coming forward and holding out a hand to Gran. “I’m Greyston Masters. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Foster. Juliette’s told me so much about you.”
Gran looks to me briefly before accepting Greyston’s outstretched hand. “And I’ve heard quite a bit about you, as well, Mr. Masters.”
“Greyston, please,” he suggests. “Can I offer you something to drink, Mrs. Foster? Something to eat, perhaps?”