This story will contain themes of infertility. I'll give a warning for those specific chapters at the beginning of those chapters.
This story will only be updated every other week.
"There's my birthday girl!"
James turned around from where he was tending to the banana pancakes, and he watched Rose crouch down to embrace their now five-year-old. He impatiently waited for the pancake to cook, and once it was golden-brown, he set it on the serving plate and took his turn greeting Ainsley.
"Happy birthday, my darling!" he exclaimed, hoisting her up into his arms to twirl her exuberantly around the room. She laughed in his ear and tightened her arms and legs around him. He pointed to the clock, which read 7am, and he said, "Five years ago today, right at this very minute, I had no idea that my beautiful little girl was about to be born that afternoon and change my entire life."
"I was born really early, right Daddy?" Ainsley said, even though she'd heard the story dozens of times.
"That's right," James said. "You weren't supposed to be born 'til December. But then you gave me and Mummy the best surprise of our lives. I love you so much, Ainsley." He pressed a smacking kiss to her cheek then said, "Go on and sit down at the table. Your banana pancakes will be ready in just a tick."
James turned back to the pancakes, and he cooked up the last of the batter before setting the steaming plate in the middle of the table beside the eggs and bacon Rose had placed there moments ago.
He worked on plating everyone's food as Rose poured everyone something to drink, and soon the family was settled around the table, tucking into Ainsley's birthday breakfast.
"This is really yummy, Daddy!" she said, stuffing a loaded forkful of pancake into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out as she chewed, and James chuckled at his daughter.
"Thank you, but perhaps try a smaller bite next time?" he suggested.
The clanking of silverware against plates and the occasional unintelligible chatter from Sianin was the only sound for the next few minutes as they all enjoyed their breakfast. Then Ainsley reached for her cup of orange juice, and her sleeve pulled away from her hand to reveal her wrist, where a smudge of black ink decorated her skin. Rose saw it and gasped, forgetting she was in the middle of taking a sip of tea. The scalding liquid spluttered into her mouth and down her throat, causing her to choke.
She coughed and hacked as James patted her back unhelpfully, and she tried to stop her eyes from watering while she also tried to draw breath.
"All right?" James asked when her fit seemed to subside.
She shook her head and reached out for Ainsley's arm.
"Sweetheart, are you… did you…?"
James's attention was finally brought to the ink on his daughter's wrist, and his eyes bugged.
"Hmm?" Ainsley glanced between James and Rose, furrowing her eyebrows at her parents, before she realized what they were looking at. "Oh, no. That's just me. I wrote a message to my soulmate but haven't gotten a reply yet."
The knot in James's stomach loosened, and he sighed with relief. He knew the eternal joy that came with a soulmate, and he wished for his children to experience the love he felt for and received from Rose, but not quite yet. She was still just his little girl, after all. It was only five years ago that he'd met her and held her for the first time. Selfish though it was, he didn't want to share her with anyone yet, not even her perfect match.
Over the next few weeks, James and Rose continued to watch Ainsley go around with an unanswered message on her arm. After awhile, their hearts stopped jumping into their throats when they saw the ink they always thought belonged to their daughter's soulmate.
"Are you sure it's healthy for her to be doing that?" Jackie asked when she spotted Ainsley re-tracing the word 'hello' on her forearm.
"What do you mean?" James asked.
"Well what if she doesn't have a soulmate?" Jackie asked. "Ever. She's getting her hopes up, and you're encouraging it."
"I wrote 'hello' on my arm when I was five," James said, his tone a little frosty. "And look what came of it."
He gestured vaguely in front of him, at the living room of his and Rose's house, which was full of kid-induced clutter.
Jackie snorted. "Pull the other one. You were a teenager before you contacted Rose."
"First off, I was eleven," he said. "Secondly, it's true! I walked around with 'hello' on my arm. Ask my dad."
"Did you really keep it on your arm for six years though?" Jackie asked dubiously.
James's ears burned. "Well, no. Not exactly. I sort of gave up on the idea of having a soulmate after a few years. But then that wonderful New Year's Day happened and I met the love of my life."
"Yeah, but what if that doesn't happen for Ainsley?" Jackie stressed. "You're setting her up for future heartbreak. Have you and Rose talked to her about the possibility that she might not have a soulmate?"
"Rose and I will cross that bridge if we come to it," James said firmly, effectively ending the conversation.
Truthfully, he had no idea how to broach the subject with Ainsley. His five-year-old was hell-bent on the idea that she had a soulmate out there somewhere. She was so vehement in her belief, he didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise, and so he indulged in her musings about soulmates.
But did that make him a bad father for not preparing her for potential disappointment if it turned out that she didn't have a soulmate? He just didn't know, and so he preferred not to think about it.
December was soon upon them, bringing with it chilly weather and a house bursting with excitement for the impending arrival of Santa Claus.
Rose loved Christmastime, even if it was her busiest season. Everything was so beautiful, and the world seemed just a little bit kinder at this time of year. And decorating their home was always an enjoyable activity for her.
She looked into the kitchen, where James was entertaining their two daughters by teaching them how to bake Christmas biscuits. Well. He was entertaining Ainsley. Sianin was toddling around and running circuits through the kitchen and into the living room and back again.
As James and Ainsley baked and Sianin ran laps, Rose continued to decorate the house for Christmas. Ainsley's interest in decorating had stopped once the tree was done and the stockings were hung, but Rose didn't mind. It was fun to transform her home for the holidays. She moved to the wall of photographs in their living room and took them down to replace them with their Christmas photos through the years.
She enjoyed watching the progression of herself and James from fresh-faced kids into parents. Her eyes raked over her husband, who was seemingly unchanged by time. He was tall and thin as ever, and while there were a few more lines around his eyes and mouth and the occasional gray hair that he always tried to immediately pluck out, he was still as sexy as he was when she first met him.
She, on the other hand…
Rose sighed as she watched how her body had changed over the years. Her hips were wider, her boobs bigger, and her stomach seemed to have developed a permanent sag to it, more so after Sianin's birth. She'd picked up weight around her face and in her thighs, too.
"Penny for 'em."
James came up to her with a biscuit in hand.
"Just thinking. You've stayed so gorgeous over the years." Rose gestured to the photos on the wall. "You're even sexier now than when you were twenty-three. You've aged like a fine wine. I've aged like moldy cheese."
James frowned. "Don't say that. You're sexier now, too."
Rose snorted. "Thanks, love, but no, I'm not."
"Rose, you are," he said softly. "You become more beautiful with every passing day, and I fall deeper in love with you every day, too. Yeah, your body has changed, but so has mine." He lifted his jumper to expose his tummy, where the slightest paunch rested above his belt. He pinched it and screwed his face into an exaggerated grimace. "You've fattened me up, you have."
"Oh, shut up," Rose said, laughing as she patted his stomach. "You needed a bit of meat on your bones."
"You never complained before," he murmured, stepping up into her personal space.
She shivered as the length of his body pressed up against hers.
"Rose, your body is so gorgeous," he whispered into her ear. He trailed the hand not holding the biscuit down her side and across to her belly then hips. "This body grew our two beautiful daughters, then gave birth to them." He raised his hand to just under her breasts. "It fed them and nourished them for their first year of life. Your body is so, so incredible, Rose. I don't care what it looks like. I wasn't soulmated to your body, I was soulmated to you, no matter the package. But for what it's worth, I am still as attracted to you now as I was eleven and a half years ago, and I still think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Rose grinned and leaned back against his chest.
"Have I told you recently that I love you?"
He hummed in her ear and pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below it.
"I don't think you have," he teased. "I'm feeling a little insecure about it, honestly."
Rose giggled and spun around in his arms. She lifted her arms and draped them around his neck as she rocked onto her tiptoes.
"I love you very much," she murmured, her lips a fraction of an inch away from his.
"Brilliant." His breath puffed against her lips, making her shiver in anticipation. "Because I love you very much, too."
Finally, he ducked down and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was a relatively chaste kiss, as there were two young children that could walk in on them at any moment, but it still felt amazing. She always loved kissing James. It warmed her from the inside out and made her so giddy she felt like nothing would ever be wrong in the world.
"Did you bring me a snack?" Rose asked, slightly breathless, as she pulled away from James.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah." The hint of amusement in his voice puzzled Rose, until she saw the biscuit in his outstretched hand. "Ainsley didn't quite press down hard enough on the biscuit cutter. A bit of dough was left in a very unfortunate place."
Rose cackled as she saw the Santa biscuit with a small piece of dough hanging between his legs.
"Santa has a cock!"
"I thought this would amuse you. Care to eat the vulgar Santa?"
Rose grabbed it out of his hand, and bit off one of Santa's legs.
"I always love these photos," James said, gesturing to the wall of past Christmas photos.
"Me too," she said. "It's fun watching the girls grow year to year."
Her eyes scanned across her daughters, watching Ainsley grow from a tiny infant and into an equally-tiny child, while Sianin grew from a pudgy baby into a pudgier toddler.
Rose's eyes lingered on the photo from two years ago, and at her swollen, pregnant belly. James seemed to catch her view, too.
"Maybe next year's photo will have you big with Baby Three," he mused, tapping a fingernail against the glass overtop her pregnant stomach.
"Or with Baby Three in the flesh," she said hopefully.
It was nearly six months since she'd thought she was pregnant, but wasn't. Six months since they decided to try for another baby. Nothing yet, but Rose was optimistic. It took over seven months to get pregnant with Sianin; remembering back, at the time it had felt like it had taken forever to get pregnant. But seven months was hardly any time at all. As it was, it felt like the last six months had flown by. Besides, Sianin wasn't even two yet. There was no rush.
"No, Sianin, hot!" James and Rose wheeled around at Ainsley's sharp shout and Sianin's indignant squeal. "No touch! Don't touch the oven!"
They entered the kitchen to see Ainsley with her arms around Sianin's waist, hoisting her away from the metal pan of biscuits that had recently come out of the oven.
"No, no, no!" Sianin shrieked, flailing in Ainsley's arms. "Bisky, Ainsley! Bisky!"
"What have we got here?" James asked, smoothly gliding up to their girls and taking Sianin up into his arms.
"She tried touching the oven," Ainsley said unnecessarily.
"Yes, I heard," he said. Sianin was still whimpering in his arms and leaning towards the hot biscuits on the pan, so James reached over for a cooler one from their first batch. "Here you are, darling. Little bites, now." James then turned to his other daughter and said, "Thank you, Ainsley, for making sure she didn't get hurt. I'm sorry you had to do that. I should've been watching."
"S'okay," Ainsley said brightly. "I'm not gonna let her burn herself." She spotted Rose munching on Vulgar Santa. "Did Daddy and me do good?"
"Very good," Rose praised, finally popping the last bit into her mouth. "Do you like baking with Daddy?"
"Uh huh," she said. "Daddy lets me taste the dough."
"Not too much, though. We don't want you getting sick." Rose caught James's eye, and then glanced meaningfully between the girls. "Right, I'm gonna go decorate in the bedroom. You stay out here with Daddy, okay."
"M'kay," Ainsley said distractedly as she made more cut-out Santas from the dough that was rolled out on the counter.
Before Rose could turn and walk out of the room, James stepped up to her and murmured, "Are you sure you don't want any help in the bedroom?"
"Behave," Rose chastised with a giggle. "Insatiable, you are." She pushed lightly against his chest. "You keep Ainsley entertained out here while I wrap some of her gifts. Then maybe later tonight we can revisit the idea of your assistance in the bedroom. There's a sprig of mistletoe I have yet to hang… it might look good above our bed."
She pecked a kiss to James's cheek and sauntered out of the kitchen, being sure to sway her hips more than normal to give James a parting show.
As Christmas drew nearer, the girls came home with more crafts done at school and daycare. Of course, the daycare aides were the ones making Sianin's, but nevertheless, Rose loved the little green handprint that was supposed to be a tree and the white footprint that was a snowman.
Their Christmas tree was soon adorned by the kids' ornaments, hanging proudly front and center.
On the last day of school before the holidays, Rose noticed Ainsley seemed subdued as they drove home. She chalked it up to the excitement of the holidays finally tiring her daughter out, but when they got home and Ainsley still hadn't said much, nor had she fallen asleep on the car ride home, Rose suspected something else was weighing on her five-year-old's mind.
"How was school today, sweetheart?" she asked, hanging up Ainsley's jacket and her own in the closet.
Ainsley shrugged. Before Rose could ask what was wrong, Ainsley looked up. Her brow was furrowed and her face looked troubled, and Rose's heart sank, her mind running through all of the possible scenarios of why Ainsley looked so distressed.
"We were talking about families today as we made gingerbread houses," Ainsley said. "Because some stupid boys were teasing William about having two mummies. And so we started talking about family, and all my friends have two grans and two grandads. But I only have one. Why do I only have one, Mummy?"
That had not at all been what Rose was expecting. She'd steeled herself to hear Ainsley tell her she was being bullied or something in school. But not this.
"You do have two grans and two grandads," Rose began gently. "But Daddy's mum died, and so did my dad. You remember all the stories of your Grandma Vera and Grandad Pete?"
Ainsley nodded slowly, but she still looked troubled.
Rose sighed and beckoned Ainsley to sit on the couch with her. On the way there, Rose grabbed two photo albums that she knew would contain photographs of James's mum and her dad.
"My dad died when I was just a baby," Rose began, flipping to the photos of her father. Her mum had brought that album out a lot when Rose was a kid, particularly when Jackie had had a bit to drink. She remembered sitting with her mum on her bed and listening to the stories of how Jackie met Pete, and their wedding, and how happy he was when he held Rose for the first time. "Here he is."
"How old were you?" Ainsley asked, her eyes scanning across Pete's face.
"Just a baby," Rose repeated. "About six months old, I think."
"Does it make you sad you don't have a daddy?"
Rose shrugged. "A little bit, I suppose. I don't have any memories of my dad, though, so that makes it easier. But it does make me sad to think of all the lost potential… My dad never got to see me grow up, or get a soulmate, or meet you and Sianin. But at least I've got my mum. Your Gran."
"Gran lost her soulmate really soon," Ainsley noted. "A lot sooner than Grandad lost his."
"Oh, no, my mum and dad weren't soulmates," Rose corrected.
Ainsley blinked in surprise.
"Soulmates are the exception, not the rule, sweetheart," Rose reminded. "Remember only a small portion of people are soulmated. Yet there are plenty of people who find true love anyway. Like my mum and dad."
"But it's not really true love," Ainsley said.
"Don't say that, of course it is," Rose reprimanded gently. "People fall in love regularly every day, without being soulmated. Like Uncle Mickey and his girlfriend. Or Auntie Donna and her boyfriend. Loads of married people aren't soulmated but are still extremely happy."
"Oh," Ainsley said quietly, as though the thought had never occurred to her.
And perhaps it hadn't, Rose realized. Ainsley's main frame of reference was Rose's relationship with James. She loved James so much, and she loved how much he loved being soulmated to her, but Rose worried he'd romanticized soulmates far too much for Ainsley and had her believing that was the only way to find true love.
"You know it's okay to not have a soulmate, right Ainsley?" Rose murmured, covering her daughter's forearm where she knew the word "hello" was still written.
"I guess. But I really want one. I want to have someone who loves me like Daddy loves you," Ainsley said.
"I want that for you, too. So much. No matter how it happens, though."
Ainsley nodded, then she closed the book in her lap and took the other photo album from Rose. Vera's face smiled up at them from the pages, lodging an aching twinge in Rose's chest, as it always did when she thought about Vera, and how close they'd come to meeting, knowing, and loving each other.
"Hey, she looks like me!"
Rose looked down at her daughter's excited exclamation and smiled when she saw the photo Ainsley was pointing at. It was an old photo of Vera when she was Ainsley's age.
"Technically you look like her," Rose said, playfully nudging her elbow into Ainsley's ribs. "But yeah, you look similar."
"She's really pretty," Ainsley said, flipping through the book to later photos of Vera. "Is that Daddy?"
Rose saw a dark-haired baby sleeping on Vera's chest with his pudgy fist in his mouth and a layer of drool covering his chin and Vera's shirt. Vera looked so at peace, cradling her son to her chest as he slept, and Rose smiled at the scene they made.
"Yeah, it is," Rose said.
"Are there pictures of you as a baby, Mummy?" Ainsley asked as she flipped to a new page and saw a photograph of James when he was a toddler.
Rose nodded and went to the bookshelf to select a few more photo albums for her daughter to peruse.
They spent nearly an hour pouring over the albums together, with Ainsley laughing at antiquated fashion trends and hairstyles of her mum and dad, and gran and grandad.
"How old was Daddy when his mummy died?" Ainsley asked, finally reaching the part of the book where Rose replaced Vera in the photographs with James and Robert.
"Twenty-three," Rose whispered, her mind painfully recalling that awful night when she'd learned what had happened. "I was almost eighteen."
"She died on April twenty-fifth?" Ainsley verified, and at Rose's nod, her eyes widened. "Did you miss your first meeting with Daddy?"
"Of course not," Rose said. "It was a little delayed, because Daddy got a little hurt in the car accident too, but no, sweetheart, we still had our first meeting."
"How did it go?" Ainsley asked.
"It was perfect," Rose said honestly, remembering the utter joy in meeting her soulmate for the first time. "Your daddy made me the most wonderful dinner my first night with him. Then a few days later, he took me to a romantic restaurant where we danced beneath the stars."
"That sounds nice," Ainsley said with a soft sigh. "I wish I could've met Daddy's mummy and your daddy."
"Oh, sweetheart, I wish they could've met you, too," Rose said, giving Ainsley a tight squeeze. "They would have loved you so much. You and Sianin."
oOoOo
They set out for Scotland two days before Christmas. After reassuring Ainsley that Santa would still know where to drop off her gifts, they loaded everyone into the car. Robert had stopped by earlier that week to take Ainsley and Sianin's gifts to the manor so that they wouldn't see their parents bringing them, and he had promised to hide them in the cellar for James and Rose.
The drive passed by relatively uneventfully. Sianin had slept through most of it, and eventually Ainsley fell asleep too. Robert was the only one there when they arrived, but the rest of the family would be coming on Christmas Eve.
"It'll be quite crowded," James noted. "Jackie's coming with Mickey and his girlfriend. And Rita-Anne. Donna and her boyfriend. Wilf and Sylvia. Grandma. Have I missed anyone?"
"That's everyone."
"It'll be an early start for everyone on Christmas," James said. "Seven is the latest they get. That's the latest Rose and I could push it for Ainsley. If she had her way, we'd be up and opening presents at five in the morning."
Robert laughed. "I'll make sure I program the coffee to be ready by seven. I made up the master suite for you, Rose, and the girls. Whoever wants to sleep through Ainsley's early morning can take the upstairs bedrooms."
Though as it turned out, nobody wanted to sleep through Christmas morning.
Promptly at seven in the morning, James and Rose—carrying a drowsy Sianin—made their way to the living room, where all of the presents sat beneath the lit tree. Almost everyone was bleary-eyed, but they all gathered in the living room to watch the magic of Christmas through Ainsley's eyes.
It took less than a half hour for Ainsley to open up all of her presents. The majority were from Santa, but James and Rose claimed credit for a few.
Sianin opened one of her presents, but after she got it open, she was more interested in the shiny bows littering the floor.
"Can I open Sianin's presents?" Ainsley asked as Sianin picked up another bow and added it to her collection on Rose's lap.
"Oh, sure, go ahead," James said. "Sian, darling, Ainsley's opening your gifts. D'you wanna help her?"
"No," she said, but she stepped up to her sister and took the bow Ainsley had ripped off.
Once all of the gifts had been exchanged among the family, James and Robert started on Christmas dinner.
"Birdy," Sianin chirped as she wandered into the kitchen just as James was seasoning the turkey. "Nakey birdy. Dead birdy."
James chuckled and said, "Yep. Naked, dead birdy. But a tasty birdy."
"Tasty birdy," Sianin repeated. "Up, Daddy."
She thrust her arms up towards him, but Robert was the one who scooped her up.
"Daddy's hands are a bit yucky," Robert explained as Sianin leaned around him to see her dad.
"I'll hold you in a minute," James promised, before he flipped the turkey upside down in the roasting pan and popped it into the oven. He washed his hands then motioned for his dad to give him his daughter.
"Turkey birdy," Sianin said, pointing to the oven. "Supper birdy turkey."
"Indeed," James said. He flicked the interior oven light on then crouched down with Sianin so she could see inside. "The turkey birdy is cooking so it can become our supper."
She grinned and babbled some more about dead, naked birds as James kept her on his hip and started getting the ingredients out for the dinner rolls.
"Are you being Daddy's big helper?" Rose cooed as she stepped into the kitchen.
"Big helper," Sianin said.
"Yep! She's my little chef," James said proudly, pinching her stomach lightly to get her to laugh.
Sianin remained with James in the kitchen until her afternoon nap. Rose and James were worried that she wouldn't sleep because of all of the excitement of it being Christmas, but thankfully she managed to fall asleep and stay asleep for nearly two hours.
When her nap was over, it was nearing dinner time, and James's prowess in the kitchen was finally showcased.
"Wonderful, as always," Rose praised with a kiss, having sampled the turkey as she helped carve it.
The rest of the family trickled into the kitchen to help carry the dishes of food to the dining room table, and after everyone was seated and the traditional Christmas dinner prayer was said, everyone took turns filling their plate with food.
James kept Sianin in his lap and made toddler-sized bites for her on his plate, while Rose helped Ainsley get servings of all of the dishes she would like.
The conversation was sparse at first as everyone tucked into the food and praised James on what a delicious turkey he'd made.
"Tasty, nakey birdy. Dead birdy. Yummy birdy, Daddy," Sianin had squealed, earning her a round laughter from the room.
The rest of the Christmas holidays were uneventful. Jackie and Donna wanted to go out shopping on Boxing Day, and Ainsley had wanted to join in the fun, too. The rest of the family stayed home to recuperate from Christmas, and to watch a football match. Rose had never really gotten into the sport, but James enjoyed the game, so she sat beside him with her head on his shoulder and watched the players run up and down the field.
"Rose, just shut up and watch, will ya?" Mickey said.
"Rude!" Martha chastised, smacking him on the chest.
Rose stuck her tongue out at her old friend and tucked her head against James's shoulder as he patiently explained to her why a penalty had been called.
The good thing about having the family around was that it gave James and Rose extra eyes and hands to take care of the girls. Everyone was eager to dote on Ainsley and Sianin, and play with them.
After Boxing Day, people began to head home. Mickey and Martha were the first to leave, as Martha had a shift at the hospital the next day. By the twenty-ninth, only Robert and Jackie remained at the mansion, where they were going to be babysitting the girls as James and Rose went on their anniversary holiday.
They chose to stay in Scotland for their anniversary, and they planned a four-day tour of four different islands. While it was quite cold for the duration of their trip, they enjoyed sampling the local culture.
They were on the Isle of Skye for New Year's Eve, and they listened to the fireworks outside and enjoyed the bursts of color illuminating their room as they rang in the year in their own private celebration.
"So, where d'you wanna go next year?" James got the sentence out before he let out a low moan.
"You really wanna talk about next year? Right now?"
Rose ground her hips down on him harder and faster, making James's brain short out on anything that wasn't the extreme pleasure he was feeling.
"Just popped into my head," he breathed after a minute, gripping her hips as he arched into her thrusts. They were quiet for a few moments, minus their exhales and soft moans of pleasure as they leisurely made love.
"Any ideas?" he asked as he flipped them so Rose was on her back now.
"I have a few ideas of how I can make you stop talking," she said with a tongue-touched grin.
"You can share those too, if you'd like," James said, and he smirked when he thrust sharply into her, making her eyes scrunch shut and her mouth fall open.
"Wanker," she panted.
"Not at the moment I'm not."
Their banter gradually dwindled as their desire for release grew. Wordless grunts and groans took over, before finally Rose tipped over in pleasure, bringing James with her moments later.
"God, that's good," she sighed as her muscles gave a few final pulses around him.
James nodded in agreement as his world swam, even behind closed eyelids. Making love with Rose was always so amazing and Earth-shattering.
When he felt like he could move again, he rolled off of her and instead tucked himself into her side. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders as he draped his arm around her hips and his leg across hers.
"I want to go somewhere special next year," James whispered. "It's our ten-year anniversary, after all. We should go somewhere nice."
"Did you have a place in mind?" Rose asked, carding her fingers through his hair
"Somewhere tropical, I think," he mused. "Beaches and sunbathing and seeing you in a bikini."
Rose snorted, and the sound made him grin in return.
"Yeah, you in swim trunks isn't a bad view, either," she drawled.
"And we can dine outside for our anniversary," James said, tracing random patterns across her hip bone. "We can never do that; it's too cold, usually."
"Do you wish we'd gotten married in the summertime?" Rose asked.
"Nah," he said. "Our wedding day was perfect as it was. I don't need warmth and summer vacations to celebrate our anniversary. Just being able to celebrate with you makes me happy."
Rose grinned at him and pressed a kiss to his hair.
"So what sort of tropical island were you thinking?" she asked.
"Dunno. 'Tropical island' was as far as I got in my mental planning," he admitted. "I figured I ought to run it by you to see if you were agreeable."
"I am quite agreeable," she said. "Let's see… There's the Caribbean."
"Fiji," James added.
"The Bahamas."
"Tahiti."
"Maldives. That was a beautiful island," Rose said, reminiscing on her second honeymoon with James when they toured the world together.
"I think I want to go somewhere we haven't been yet, if that's okay," James said.
"Absolutely. I always love going new places with—" A huge yawn cracked her jaw then, and she nuzzled closer to him. "—With you," she mumbled against his chest.
James chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair. "We can talk more about it later. Happy New Year, love."
Not to be That Person, but if you're reading this story, please let me know. Leave a comment, otherwise I'll assume no one is reading on this site anymore, and I'll save myself some time and not post here.
