Title: Our Christmas Love Story
Summary: Every Christmas has a special memory for Edward and Bella. This Christmas, with Edward overseas, those memories get her through the holiday.
Pairing: Edward and Bella
Word count: 6107 words
Our Christmas Love Story
"It's not a Charlie Brown tree," I protest, fluffing the spindly branches for the fifth time. I hastily kick the fallen pine needles under the tree, causing him to chuckle louder. "It looks better in person." I pout, crossing my arms over my chest in irritation. "It just needs to be decorated."
"I'm sure that's it, babe," he says, smiling at me. "You were always a sucker for the underdog."
I smile back; I can't help it. We see each other so rarely between the time difference, our schedules and the strict Army regulations. I don't want to waste our precious time talking about my crappy tree any longer.
"Any word on when you'll get leave?" I ask, hoping for a holiday miracle, but knowing not to get my hopes up. They've been shattered so many times since Edward enlisted that I am afraid to even have a shred of hope these days.
He gets serious, a distant look in his eyes, a look I recognize as his "work" face. "No, nothing. Um, in fact I may be out of contact for a while."
"What?" I whine. "Again?"
He nods. "Sorry, babe. You know I hate being apart as much as you do, but we both signed up for this," he teases, because we are in this together and have been since before we chose the military life. I'm usually the one who reminds him of this, not the other way around.
I nod, holding back the tears that are threatening to fall. The only thing worse than having your husband in the military and having limited contact is having them away with no contact, especially because no contact usually means something dangerous.
"I love you, Bella, more than anything. Knowing you're there waiting for me gets me through each day, hell, each hour." The tenderness and sincerity in his voice is undeniable.
Blinking, tears escape, rolling slowing down my face. "Oh, Edward. Be careful, take care of yourself, come back to me. I love you with all my heart. I will always be here."
I can hear noises on Edward's end. He briefly looks over his shoulder, turning back with a sad look on his gorgeous face. "I gotta go."
I nod, getting my emotions in check and studying his face, like I try to do every time we end our Skype sessions. His buzzed hair, still managing to have that chaotic look from cowlicks that can never be tamed. The strong angles of his face, clean shaven. His sea green eyes, bright, but concerned … about me, not himself.
"I love you. Go do your job and don't worry about me, I'll be fine … just missing you terribly." I smile through my tears.
"I love you too, baby … so much. I'll call as soon as I can. Say hi to everyone please."
I blow him a kiss resting my hand on my heart, like I do each time we part.
"Bella, Merry Christmas," he says with his hand also on his heart.
I stare at the dark screen long after his image is gone. He knows he will be out of contact until after Christmas, our holiday, our special day.
I take a shaky breath and stand. I look at the Christmas tree, the pitiful tree I chose … without him. "Well, Chuck. We have work to do," I say to the now named tree.
It takes me hours to decorate the house, especially the tree. I thoughtfully unwrap the tree ornaments, remembering the history, the meaning behind each one. They hold so many special memories, making me smile, laugh, causing the occasional tear to fall. Looking at some of them takes me back to another time, another day, another Christmas.
"He's cute," Alice says, nudging my arm, indicating toward the tall, lanky boy hidden under the bulky winter coat and beanie pulled down low over his ears. The wind is impossible to hide from, yet he tries. Only a glimpse of his face is visible, and that is all it takes to peak my interest. He works intently, his face red from exertion or the cold, or a little of both. We wait in line patiently, as patiently as two teenage girls can, until he can trim the bottom of our tree and lift it into our truck.
"Ladies," he greets. "How much would you like trimmed off?"
Caught in his stare, his eyes so knowing and intense, he has to be asking something more than just about our tree. Alice's elbow in my ribs alerts me that I am staring and not answering the man/boy standing in front of me trying to do his job.
"Um, whatever you think," I stutter.
"You got it," he says with a smile, his straight white teeth gleaming in contrast to the ruddiness of his flushed skin.
I am dazzled, something that has never happened to me before. I mean, I have thought some boys were cute, but I have never been this affected by anyone.
I watch his every move as he prepares our tree, his movements precise and knowing, like he has been doing this all of his life. He follows us to our truck, the large tree in his grasp seeming to weigh nothing to him.
"This is us," I stammer, slightly embarrassed by the old truck Alice and I share.
He secures the tree in the bed before closing the tailgate. "A classic," he says, giving my truck a firm pat, which makes me smile. Most people see it as a piece of junk, not the classic that it is.
"Thank you for helping us. I'm Alice. This is Bella, my older sister, and you are?" Alice asserts, extending her glove-covered hand.
"Um, nice to meet you, Alice and Bella," he says, removing his work glove to take her hand. "I'm Edward." Before he even turns his attention to me, I remove my own glove, the need to touch his skin almost instinctual.
He takes my exposed hand, the combined warmth almost too warm. I feel it everywhere, not just in our clasped hands. Our wide eyes meet, and it is undeniable that he feels it too. Our hands stay connected for more than a beat too long.
"Very nice to meet you, Bella," he says softly, reverently. I don't know how long we stay like that—could be seconds, minutes, the bustle of the Christmas tree lot around us forgotten.
"Um, Bella … we better go." Alice nudges my shoulder, rousing me from my Edward-induced trance.
"Um, yeah, me too. I gotta get back to work. Nice to meet you Bella … and Alice," he says, but his eyes never leave mine. He backs away slowly, like he's reluctant to go, and then turns, walking quickly back to the busy tree lot.
We climb into the car before either of us speaks. I turn the key, causing the engine to come to life with a roar. "I think I'm going to make a wreath for the door, maybe a few … I'm going to need some more branches."
Alice starts cracking up before I even finish, and we both end up laughing the whole way home. She knows me well enough to know that that is not the only time I'm going to go to that tree lot, for my wreath making supplies, of course.
I can stay away for one day, and that one day without going to the tree lot just about drives me nuts. My anxiety amuses Alice to no end. Sisters …
I pull up, the sound of my ancient truck alerting everyone to my arrival. One head in particular seems to stand out above the rest—not because he's taller, but because, even from a distance I can see he's interested.
By the time I turn off the car and grab my purse, my door is being pulled open. I should be startled, but I'm not. I'm elated, because apparently he is as eager as I am. One look at his wide, open smile calms me, all anxiety I had about coming here today long gone.
"You're back," he breathes, as if he's solved a mystery.
I want to hug him, fold myself into his strong arms, but I resist, barely. Instead I smile. "You couldn't keep me away."
We both laugh nervously. Although we obviously both want to see each other, we truly don't know each other at all.
"Um, can I get some cut branches? I want to make some wreaths." I say awkwardly.
"Oh, yeah, of course … follow me, but you know we sell wreaths. My mom makes them herself," he says proudly.
"Your mom? She works here too?"
He laughs. "We all do. This is our family business." He comes to stand right next to me, pointing as he speaks. "See that man over there unloading the truck? That's my dad. That big guy over there placing the trees, that's my brother, and the girl behind the register, that's my sister. Follow me," he says, taking my hand in his. It's so natural and surreal.
I follow him. We pass his sister and she smiles and waves. He just smiles and waves in return but doesn't stop to introduce me. I wave too as not to be rude as I'm being pulled along behind him. He takes me around the back to a fenced-off, tent-covered area with work benches and other supplies. There amidst the pine needles and overwhelming holiday smells is a woman clearly in her element. Christmas tunes float through the air as she sings along. Wreaths of all shapes and sizes, complete and in progress, are laid out. She works intently, not even noticing our presence.
"Mom."
"Oh, hey, honey. How's it going out th—Oh, who is this lovely girl?" she asks when she notices he's not alone. Her smile is friendly and knowing.
"Mom, this is Bella. Bella, this is my mom, Esme."
"Nice to meet you."
"Oh, dear, the pleasure is all mine. I'm so happy to meet you."
"These are so beautiful," I say, admiring her hard work.
"I love doing this. Each one is unique. It's just a little hobby I picked up over the years. Now that the kids are grown I'm not needed out front as much."
"They are lovely. You are very talented."
"Bella wants to make some wreaths. Maybe you could show her," Edward suggests.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose," I start.
"Nonsense. I'd love to show someone who shares my passion. The rest of the family thinks I'm a little over the top." She laughs.
The following days are filled with boughs, holly, bows, mistletoe, ornaments and anything else you could possibly add to a wreath. Some are, well … over the top, but most of what we make are elegant and tasteful. She teaches me all she knows about wreath-making, about the family and about Edward. She seems to know that I want to know him without me having to ask. She talks about him, well all of them, with love, admiration and respect. They have all pitched in and worked hard to make their family business successful, while each of them pursues their own careers and goals for another income when it's off-season. I learn from her that Edward is the youngest and is due to graduate in June and has plans to go to college in the fall or join the Army or a combination of the two. I too am a high school senior with hopes of leaving this small town to go to a university.
Each time I arrive at the lot, Edward greets me at my car, holds my hand and walks me back to Esme's work area. He checks in on us frequently and brings us lunch when we are so in the groove that we forget to break to eat. At the end of my time there he walks me to my truck. On Christmas Eve he finally asks for my number, and that night we talk on the phone until way past midnight. And that is our first Christmas together. Without even having to say the words, without playing games, we know it is us, that we are together, Edward and Bella, without question, we belong with each other.
"Have you heard from him, dear?" Esme asks as we, for the fourth year in a row, make our wreaths side by side.
I just shake my head. Not being able to hear from Edward is far harder this time with the holidays and Christmas just days away.
"He's fine, dear. You know Edward. He will come back to you. No doubt in my mind," she says with a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
The rest of the afternoon I'm not great company. I'm lost in thoughts of Edward, the Christmas carols playing on repeat in the background sounding bittersweet, taking me back to another time.
"What are you doing, Edward? It's pitch black here and freezing," I protest. It's late on Christmas Eve, and he's brought me to the closed tree lot.
"It's okay. I know the owners," he teases, unlocking the padlocked gate. He kisses me on the cheek before pulling me behind him.
It's eerily quiet and bitter cold. The wind whipping through the trees causes many leaves to fall, littering our path.
"Close your eyes," he says, excitement in his voice. How can I say no?
"Okay," I agree, clinging to him more closely.
He leads me a little farther and then releases my hand, and I can hear him rustle around doing something. He comes behind me, his warm breath near my ear, his hands wrapped around my middle. "You can open them now."
I'm silent as I take in the transformed covered wreath-making work area. He's turned it into a little sanctuary. The mess and pine needles are gone, replaced with twinkle lights, an electric heater, some comfortable looking outdoor furniture, blankets and snacks. Christmas music plays softly in the background. "Wow! You thought of everything, but why?"
He brings me over to the sofa, pulling me close and putting blankets over both of us. "We never get any time alone together. We're always busy with college or work, and now I'm only in town for what, two weeks before I go back to school? And the whole time is spent working. I miss you, I miss us …" He trails off, kissing my neck lightly, sending a shiver through my body.
"Hmmmm." His touch warms me from the inside out. In no time the chaste kisses and touches turn into frenzied gropes and devouring kisses. We've never been like this, always passionate, but never with such desire, need for each other.
His hands find their way under my many layers of clothing, his cold fingers leaving a trail of heat wherever they touch. Within seconds my body is humming with desire, my breath coming out in pants.
My hands grope to find skin beneath his jacket and sweatshirt. I don't know if it's our wind-blocked location, the heater at our feet, the blankets, the body heat or just the heat of passion; regardless we shed our jackets, hats and gloves. He lifts my shirt just above my tits, deftly unhooking my bra. The cold air pebbles my nipples even further. His warm mouth covering one mound, his hand the other, I arch into his touch, my body begging for more.
"Edward, I want you."
He tenses, releases my tits and pulls my shirt down. His actions cause a wave of rejection to overcome me. I move away from him, pulling the blanket higher on my chest, my arms crossing my body like armor, protection.
He scrubs his hands over his face and lets out a big breath. "This isn't how I wanted this to go. I had it all planned, and then you, your just so … irresistable," he says, shaking his head.
"I don't understand. You say I'm irresistable yet you don't want me."
He turns towards me, his eyes searching mine. "That's just it, Bella. I want you … always. Today is no different. I just want you to know that I want you forever first." Still confused, I watch as he gets up and grabs his jacket. Tears fill my eyes thinking he's getting his jacket to leave me. Instead, he drops the jacket and stands in front of me.
"Bella. I've known since the second I saw you that you were special. I know it was only a year ago, but I've known every day since that I wanted you. I want you now and forever. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?" He drops to one knee and produces a small black box.
Shocked, I don't react. So many thoughts go through my mind. We've only known each other a year. We're only eighteen. We live in different cities, go to different colleges. We have no money, no real concrete future plans. I'm sure he can see the concern and fear in my expression.
"Bella, I know we're young and I don't have much to offer you, but that doesn't change how I feel and what I know. You are my forever. We can wait if you want, but I will ask you this question again and again until you say yes." He smiles. His confidence in us is undeniable.
"Yes," I squeak out.
"Yes?" he asks.
"Yes!" I say firmly as I launch myself into his arms. We both fall backwards onto the ground, the ring box forgotten as I pepper his face with kisses and yeses.
When we finally get to our feet, he retrieves the box and proposes again, this time opening the box. Inside is the most exquisite, unique ring, something obviously not from this era.
"This was my great grandmother's ring. My mom offered it to me for you, but only you." He laughs. "She said if I don't give it to you she wants it back."
"It's beautiful," I say with awe. It's delicate, yet the diamond in the center stands out because of it's sparkle and size. I hold my hand up admiring the lights shining off the diamond.
"You do that while I do this," he says huskily into the sensitive area on my neck, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. Within seconds, the ring is all but forgotten as I lose myself in his touches.
I boldly straddle his lap, a twinge of the rejection I felt from earlier returning. Sensing my hesitation, he grabs my hips, holding me there.
"The only reason I didn't want you earlier is because before we make love for the first time, I want you to know that it is us, forever." He blushes, looking away. "And I didn't want you to think I only wanted to marry you because we had sex."
I smack his chest, because guys can be so stupid. "Um, Edward, in case you forgot, I was more of the aggressor earlier than you. If anything, you should think I may be marrying you for the sex." I laugh.
"Oh, Bella," he says more seriously. "I've wanted you for so long it's been painful, literally." He emphasises his words by sliding me forward on his lap until my hot center is lined up with his hard cock. "I want you, now."
My hips roll over him, causing us both to gasp. Teasing aside, he explores under my sweater while I unbutton and unzip his jeans. Every time I see his hard cock, it's impressive—smooth skin taut over firm … very firm.
"Are we really doing this?" he asks, watching as my hands roam his body. Each time I get near his cock it twitches.
"I want you inside me." I moan as he tweaks my hardened nipples.
"Oh god yes," he pants when my hand grabs him firmly and starts stroking. "That feels so good, babe, but I don't want it to be over before it begins. Stand up."
He takes my hands and helps me to stand, deftly removing my jeans and panties, leaving me only in my warm socks and my bra and sweater pushed up around my shoulders. The way he's looking at me is like I'm something to eat, something he wants to devour. It makes me feel sexy and a little shy.
"Can you sit on me, babe? he asks, pulling me closer.
Standing between his open legs, he kisses the sensitive skin of my exposed stomach. With one hand on my ass, the other moves between my legs, where I'm hot, wet and needy. He rubs my clit, entering me with one finger and then two.
"That way you can control things. I don't want to hurt you."
Pain is the farthest thing from my mind right now. The pleasure he is giving me with just his hand is more than I've ever felt alone.
Too soon he stops, moving away to wiggle his jeans lower on his thighs. "Come here," he coaxes, pulling me to sit, my shaky legs straddling his solid ones.
His mouth, level with my tits, takes in my nipple, the warmth making me sigh, his tongue circling, teeth nibbling. My hips move, seeking friction, his cock, anything. He responds by resuming to pleasure me with his hand. Soon I'm writhing and moaning his name, my body responding with intense pulsing heat.
"I love to watch you come," he says, stroking himself as he watches me.
It gives me a little thrill to see him touch himself, to see him so affected by me. "Your turn," I breathe, moving to position myself over him.
He lines himself up, his eyes finding mine as if seeking permission. I sink down slowly, my body slick, ready. He watches where we're joined. I can tell he's holding his breath, his expression one of awe and pleasure. When my body is flush with his, he exhales loudly, his eyes rolling back.
"Oh my god," he breathes, grabbing my hips and holding me in place. "You are so hot and tight." He pants. "I didn't … I've never …"
He stops talking and kisses me, our tongues mingling, tasting. After a bit he slows our kiss with small pecks to my lips. "Okay, you can start moving now. You set the pace and do whatever feels good, cause damn, babe, anything you do is going to make me come way too soon. You just feel too … good."
I hesitantly lift and lower, rolling my hips until I find a rhythm that feels good. Edward alternates between kissing my tits, watching me move above him and meeting my eyes. His expression full of awe, love and restraint.
"Can you come again, babe?" He gasps, his fingers once again finding that sensitive spot on my body. This time his touch is hurried, like he's trying to catch me up to him.
"I don't know," I answer, speeding up my ministrations. Going deeper I gasp, the sensation something I've never felt before, full, touched deeply within.
"Oh, my god. Babe, I can't hold off any longer." He rubs me faster, with urgency.
I'm close, just watching him so intense, passionate, sexy. I touch my own tits, rolling my nipples between my fingers. My body responds, quivering around him, cresting and falling. We call out each others names, lost in our own release. Clinging to each other, the sheen of sweat that covers our skin cools quickly from the cold night air. He grabs the blanket and wraps it around us, holding me closely to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing, comforting.
"That was … more … more than I ever thought it could be," he whispers, rubbing my back, leaving kisses in my hair.
"I know," I add at a loss for words. "I love you."
"And I you … fiancée."
I move so I can look him in the eyes. "You have always been my forever, Edward … fiancé."
"Are you feeling okay, dear? You're a bit flushed," Esme says with concern. My face gets hotter realizing I've just revisited having sex with her son for the first time while I'm working right next to her.
"Oh, no. I'm fine, just a hot flash or something."
"Okay," she says slowly with a knowing twinkle in her eye.
I move my focus to wreath-making, willing my flushed face and embarrassment to subside.
My time with Esme, although I love her dearly and appreciate our time together, leaves me feeling more lonely than usual. She represents Edward and the kind of person he is: kind, generous. It's his roots, where he comes from. They are good, hardworking people with huge hearts and generosity. It makes me miss Edward even more, if that is possible.
Our house, small and quaint as it is, is just that, our home. On Edward's leaves, he's checked off every item on my honey-do list and then some. Although he's only here for a brief time here and there, touches of Edward are in every room, in every corner. From the new doorknobs to can lighting in the kitchen, from the tiled bathroom to the permanent hooks around the outside of the house for holiday lights. Thankfully Emmett came over and helped hang the lights with me; he knows I would have done it by myself and Edward would have his ass for not helping me. I am completely capable of doing it myself, but I'm kind of glad I didn't have to do it alone. It's a lot easier with two people.
Christmas gifts are wrapped, cookies are made, and all I have left to do is help at the tree lot tomorrow, grocery shop and make my dish for the Christmas Eve meal. I sit down and sip my rum and eggnog. Chuck's branches bend downward with the weight of the lights and ornaments. I probably overloaded him, but each ornament is special and deserves a place on our tree.
Opening the laptop, I start my daily email to Edward. Each and every night he's gone I email him. Sometimes it's a rundown of my day, sometimes it's an anecdote or a funny story or sometimes, like tonight, it's to tell him how much I miss him. When he's on a special assignment, like now, he gets them all when he goes back to the base. It doesn't matter how or when he reads them, just as long as he knows I'm thinking about him, wanting him each and every day, especially when I climb into our bed … alone.
Reading over the email before I press send brings tears to my eyes. I miss him so much. Being a military wife means being alone—holidays, birthdays, anniversaries be damned. We knew this, but it doesn't make it suck any less. Before closing the laptop, feeling especially melancholy, I open my photos and look back at the past year.
"I'd like to propose a toast to my new bride," Edward says, speaking to the crowd. "First, I would, we would"—he puts his arm around my waist—"like to thank you all for coming, for giving up your Christmas Eve to witness our wedding." He turns to me, taking my hand in his. "Bella, since the day I laid eyes on you and every day since, I've known you were the one for me. With us there were never any games, no question about our love or devotion. Thank you for being perfect for me." His eyes shine with sincerity and emotion. "And to Mr. and Mrs. Swan, Charlie and Renee, thank you for raising such a genuine, loving and special person. I am forever grateful to both of you, for Bella and for trusting me with her. Cheers."
There is not a dry eye in the room when he finishes. Edward wipes my tears before kissing me in front of everyone in attendance for the umpteenth time, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Not long after we got engaged we made the decision that Edward would join the Army to complete his education. With the increase in internet sales and a big Home Depot in the next town, small businesses were suffering, the family tree lot was no exception and he was not needed as much with the family business.
Amazingly Edward got a two week leave for our wedding. Anything could have happened to change things, but this time the Army came through with a leave around the time we had planned the wedding and things just fell into place perfectly. The intimate wedding and reception suited us. When two nineteen-year-old kids get married and it's not a shotgun wedding, there is really no expectation. It was just us … and it was perfect.
Our honeymoon was a stay-cation, getting settled in our new home and making it just that … a home. We asked that no one contact us for two days and they respected that. We had sex on every surface both horizontal and vertical in those two days, and it was wonderful. He left four days after the wedding. He takes a piece of me each and everytime he leaves, and I'm not whole again until he returns.
Christmas Eve comes, our one year anniversary. I try not to check my cell phone a hundred times to see if there is anything from Edward—a message, a picture, a text—but it's silent. Every person I love is with me today, except for him. My parents get along so well with Carlisle and Esme that spending the holidays all together is natural and easy. Everyone goes out of their way to talk to me, try to cheer me up. I do my best to be in the moment and enjoy everyone's company. We end the evening with some rousing games that do actually take my mind of missing Edward for a little while.
"Are you sure you want to go home, dear?" Esme asks one more time while I'm putting on my coat. "It's late, and I hate the idea of you driving home and being alone."
I give her a big hug. "You are so sweet and I appreciate your concern, but I feel closer to Edward in our house, our bed. I'll be back over at ten tomorrow to help with breakfast before we go to the lot." I give her the biggest smile I can manage.
She nods her head. "Of course. I understand. Good night, Bella, and Merry Christmas."
Once at home, I decide to leave on the outside Christmas lights all night. After getting ready for bed, I settle in with my laptop to write to Edward. The words flow easily.
Dear Edward,
Happy Anniversary, love. Marrying you was the best thing I've ever done, and I would do it again and again.
Spending the evening with our families made me realize how lucky we are to have them. Your parents treat me like their own and our parents get along … thank god.
My Christmas wish is that you are safe, wherever you are. The only thing better than that is to wish you were safe and home … maybe next year.
I love you.
Your Bella
Turning off the light, I lie down on my pillow. The tears flow; I can't help it. I miss him and worry about him. In a little less than a year he will be out of the Army, with the knowledge and education it would have taken him four years to complete in college. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but right here, right now … it hurts.
I doze, my sleep fitful and filled with Edward. I hover in that zone between sleep and awake. Sometime past midnight I must have fallen into a deeper sleep because I'm startled awake by the doorbell. I groggily turn on the bedside lamp, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders as I amble to the door. There is another ring of the doorbell and a knock before I get to it.
I look out the peephole, or at least I try to, but it's a bit too high for me. "Who is it?" I use my deepest, strongest voice. I don't hear anything from the other side. Standing on my tiptoes to try the peep hole once again, I see the top of a military hat. It makes my heart stop. "Who is it?" I ask again, my voice cracking with tension.
"It's me, Bella. Open the door."
Before his sentence is finished I've got the door open and launch myself into his arms. I wrap my arms and legs around him, the blanket forgotten on the door step. I don't feel the cold night air, I don't feel anything but him, my Edward.
"You're here!" I repeat over and over again. Hugging him tightly, I pepper any part of him I can with kisses.
He holds me just as tightly, his face buried in my hair. "I love you, baby."
"I love you, so much."
"Let's go inside," he whispers into my ear, moving us inside just inside the house.
He moves to set me down, and reluctantly I unwrap my legs and put my weight on the floor. He grabs his bag, and I grab the blanket. Once the door is closed and locked I'm on him again, but this time instead of feeling relief that he is here and safe, I am motivated by passion, by want. When he presses me into the door I feel his want for me, hard and long against me.
"Bedroom. Now."
He makes quick work of removing my pajamas. Laying bare in front of him, his eyes devour me. I also take time to appreciate how he looks in his fatigues. His smirk tells me he knows what I'm doing. I've always loved him in his uniform. "You can take it off now," I command, and he does.
Skin on skin, nothing between us—no continents, no army, no clothing, just us. We kiss, touch, whisper lovingly to each other. When he finally enters me it's like I can fully breathe again, like my strength is renewed. He takes control, giving me what I need, giving himself to me. Words are not needed, our bodies speaking their own language.
We lie sated, our breath calming, our bodies still touching, entwined.
"How are you here?"
"I knew I had a leave coming, but things were so up in the air I didn't want to get your hopes up. I was determined to get here one way or another. I just wasn't sure if it would be in time for Christmas." He sighs. "I missed our anniversary. Happy anniversary, Bella."
"Happy anniversary, Edward," I say, giving him a kiss on those lips I missed so much. "But as far as I'm concerned it's still our anniversary." I roll on top of him. "Best. Gift. Ever." I punctuate each word with kisses. And that leads to round two. My man has some stamina.
Round three happens when we wake up in the morning, and round four in the shower. We barely leave the house by ten a.m., but I know our families will forgive me when they see why I'm late.
I watch him drive, his strong arms gripping the steering wheel, his command of the car. "God, I really hate to share you," I say with a groan.
"I know. I feel the same way, but you've got me for two weeks," he says, glancing over and giving me his signature smile. "How's that honey-do list?"
"There's only one thing on the list."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" he coaxes.
"Well, you've been working on it already."
"I have?"
I nod. "Four times."
"Four times?" he questions. "Oh! Four times! Really?"
"Yep. I went off birth control just like we talked about. If I get pregnant now you'll be out by the time he or she is born. If it doesn't happen now, then we get to keep trying."
"I like trying." He smiles.
The moment everyone sees Edward walk in the door, the house erupts in excitement. Watching Edward with his family and mine, back home where he should be, is the best present I could ever receive. And once again Edward gives me a memorable Christmas. Our special day. Our Christmas Love Story.
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