Emma got the book for the first week, and it warmed her heart to see how unbelievably happy it made Henry.
She'd been afraid he'd be disappointed about the arrangement she made with Killian, disappointed that he'd have to share the storybook that he'd wanted so desperately, but she needn't have worried. Far from being upset at the arrangement, he'd been delighted, assuring her that he liked Alice Jones and her dad and he was glad if he had to share the book that it was with them.
If she hadn't known better, she'd think he was happier things had worked out this way than he'd have been if she'd gotten the book outright.
In fact, he was so alright with the arrangement that he badgered her about setting a date for the exchange...and he insisted they have the Joneses over for dinner.
Emma stirred the pasta sauce, feeling like she needed to do something with her hands. Killian and Alice would be here any minute, and Emma felt the nerves bubbling up as strong as the water she was boiling for spaghetti.
She hated herself for her reaction-for the fact that she was so nervous about something as simple as having a couple of people over for dinner.
Not to mention the fact she'd taken special care with her hair and make up, and she'd spent far longer than she'd like to admit selecting a sweater and a pair of jeans for the evening. If anyone asked, she'd gone to the extra effort simply because she was feeling festive. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was having a handsome single dad over.
But if Emma was being honest with herself she knew the truth. Killian Jones had invaded her thoughts more, much more than she would have liked, and every time he did, her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught, her stomach swooped.
It was all so cliche that it made her want to groan. She was not cliche. She was not a love-struck teenager. She'd done the whole falling in love thing, and it had bitten her in the ass in a major way. She knew how this went. She'd have a few months of breathless excitement with her new infatuation, and then it would all hit the fan, and before she knew it the pain would be nearly unbearable. No thanks. The highs were not worth the lows that would follow.
Nope. It didn't matter how hot Killian Jones was. Didn't matter how charming. Didn't matter how much his love for his daughter warmed her heart. She would keep her wits about her and fortify the walls around her heart that had kept her safe all these years since Neal.
But when her door buzzed ten minutes later and she opened it to see a rakishly handsome Killian in a deep blue button up, short leather jacket and tight black jeans-smiling knowingly as he held out a bottle of wine to her–her heart lurched, and Emma acknowledged to herself the fact that she might be in real, serious trouble.
Two hours later Emma was beginning to wonder if it was already too late for her. Dinner had been surprisingly enjoyable. The Swans and the Joneses alike had talked and laughed and generally enjoyed each other's company.
After dinner, Henry had pulled Alice toward the living room to try out a new video game he was rather obsessed with.
"Let me help with the dishes, Love" Killian offered, gathering up plates from the table and heading toward the sink. "Least I can do after such an extraordinary meal."
Emma felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. Generally speaking, whatever talents she had did not extend to the kitchen, but pasta was one thing she could make and make well. In the secret recesses of her heart-in the place she barely even acknowledged to herself-she'd wanted to impress him, and his praise warmed her like a blazing fire on a cold winter's night.
Together they cleared the table and set to work washing and drying the dishes. Working together like this, he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His scent of leather and a hint of rum invaded her senses and it made her want.
Not just on a carnal level. That she could handle. That was something she could take care of. A quick scratch of an itch and he'd be out of her system, but no it wasn't just the physical want.
She wanted all of it-the conversation, the companionship, the family. She wanted this little domestic situation to be real, to be permanent.
As Emma closed the door behind the Joneses-after making arrangements for the next book exchange-and as Henry wandered off to bed Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes.
She didn't want to want this. Didn't want to want him. The pain when this inevitably went south was going to be terrible.
She had a week until the next book exchange. She needed to use that time fortifying her defenses against Killian Jones before she reached the point of no return.
"Just a little more to the left," Alice said, taking a step back to look at the giant fir tree in their living room the following week.
Killian made the requested adjustment, and then got an enthusiastic "It's perfect" from his enraptured little starfish.
Seeing the holidays through the eyes of his daughter was magical. She was such a sensitive soul. She found delight in the beauty around her-and she had the unique ability to see beauty everywhere she looked.
Every holiday was a time of exceeding joy for Alice, but this particular Christmas season seemed to hold a special place in her heart, and Killian suspected he had Emma and Henry Swan to thank for that.
They'd only had the one meeting for dinner a week ago, but just the memory of it warmed Killian and made him smile. Emma Swan was such a contradiction. She'd been so prickly, so standoffish at their first meeting at the bookstore, but he'd seen a different side of her at home with her son. She'd been relaxed, happy, smiling and laughing and delighting him with her witty banter.
She intrigued him more than any woman had since Milah. She'd been beautiful at their first meeting, but at dinner-dressed in a red v-necked sweater that hugged her curves in all the right places-she'd nearly taken his breath away.
He sensed it would be quite a challenge to win her heart-should he choose to pursue it-but he rather liked a challenge.
At the end of dinner last week they'd decided to meet today for the next exchange, and Alice had started in right away to plan the next Swan-Jones get together.
"We need to decorate the tree together," She'd insisted on the way home from the Swans' abode. "Maybe even get a start on some Christmas cookies."
Never one to deny his daughter anything if he could help it, he'd agreed to her plan. Accordingly, they'd spent the ensuing week digging Christmas decorations from the attic, testing twinkle lights, and making multiple trips to the store for tree-trimming essentials.
This morning was the last piece of the puzzle-the tree itself. They'd made their way to Tiny's Christmas Tree Lot and been fortunate to find and cut down one of the handsomest trees Killian had ever seen.
Now all that remained was to wait until Emma and Henry arrived.
Reaching up on her tiptoes, Emma placed the final ornament-a ceramic candy cane-on what was surely the only bare branch of the entire Christmas tree, and then she stepped back to survey her work.
"Pretty, isn't it?" She asked.
Killian looked over at her, taking in her cheeks flushed with exertion, her glossy blonde curls falling gently over her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling with happiness and felt his heart turn over.
"Beautiful," he breathed, never taking his eyes from her. "Absolutely stunning."
She looked over at him, hearing the adoration in his voice, and her breath caught as she noted the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at her. Their eyes locked, and the color on her cheeks deepened.
He couldn't look away. Wouldn't want to if he could. She was so bloody gorgeous it almost hurt to look at her. Slowly, inexorably he began to lean down, his eyes focusing on her lips.
For a split second she leaned toward him, and briefly, oh so briefly, he thought she'd allow him to sample those ruby-red lips, lips that he was sure would be far sweeter than the mulled cider he had waiting for them on the stove.
But then she seemed to come to her senses, shaking her head slightly and taking a step back. She chuckled a bit nervously. "We did a good job on the tree, if I do say so myself."
For a moment the disappointment flooded him, but ever the gentleman, Killian took his own step back, muttering an agreement with her statement. He knew enough about her history with Neal Cassidy to understand her fear, her hesitancy, but he was a patient man. He could take all the time she needed to convince her that he was in this for the long haul and that she could trust him to cherish her heart should she one day give it to him.
"Aye, that we did," he replied genially. "What say we adjourn to the kitchen to see what those two young scamps are up to?"
Emma scooped up a fist-ful of snow as she hid behind a large oak tree. Forming it into a ball, she stepped out and took aim.
Bull's eye! Her projectile made contact right between Killian's shoulder blades. The man himself turned on her with a delighted grin that belied his growl of outrage.
"You'll pay dearly for that Swan!" He promised in a low, menacing voice that made her shiver in anticipation.
She imagined him using that tone of voice under different circumstances. What would it be like to hear him growl at her like that without their children present? In a far more private setting? With a lot few clothes between them?
She blinked and shook her head. What was she doing fantasizing about Killian Jones? Bad enough they had to see each other every week without her way-too-fertile imagination helpfully supplying images that made her want to fan herself, even in the midst of a polar vortex.
The next snowball hit her directly in the forehead, and Henry bent over amidst gales of laughter, pleased with the hit he'd scored for the boys' team.
Emma smiled at her son's antics as Alice pulled her back behind their oak tree home base.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'll take care of Henry. You go get my Papa again."
Get him, drag him someplace private, kiss the daylights out of him…
Her inner voice really wouldn't shut up today!
"Sounds good, kid," Emma said. "Let's go show them what Team Girl is made of!"
Three weeks after Thanksgiving, with Christmas fast approaching, and with six inches of new snow falling overnight, the Swans and Jones had decided to take their book exchange outdoors. Together they'd made a little snow family and then decided to commence a snowball battle for the ages-Killian and Henry versus Emma and Alice.
Emma had no idea who was getting the best of the battle-each side had managed to log several good hits, but what she did know was that she had no idea when she'd had nearly this much fun.
Gathering up another huge handful of snow, Emma stepped from behind the tree...and right into the path of a snowball, lobbed with unerring accuracy, by a man who was grinning ear to ear, clearly quite pleased with both his stealth and his prowess on the frozen field of battle.
Gods, that grin did things to her. Terrible, terrible, delicious things.
"Oh you did not just ambush me!" She said, gripping her snowball more tightly.
"Aye, that I did," his grin impossibly widened, "What are you going to do about it?"
The way he popped that final "t" made her stomach swoop. Emma's breathing quickened. "You're about to find out!" Emma said, beginning to advance on him.
The force of Emma's next snowball knocked Killian to the ground, and the momentum carried Emma forward as well-until she landed directly on top of him.
His breath left him in a whoosh at the contact, and Emma meant to roll off of him, she really did…
But then her eyes met his. Green eyes connecting with a sea of blue. It was as though she was frozen in place, drawn inexorably to him like a moth to a flame (gods, another cliche!). He didn't move, merely looked up at her with eyes filled with surprise and desire.
Almost against her own will, her gaze drifted down to settle on his lips. It was too strong, too much. She could no more stop what was about to happen than she could have stopped the snow from falling last night.
Lowering her head, she took his lips with a hunger she hadn't felt in years...maybe ever. He groaned and then surged up to meet her, lips parting, hand tangling in her hair. It was too much, and not enough. Far from quenching the fire, this kiss seemed to only be fanning the need into flame. Her hands gripped his collar pulling him even nearer.
"Did you get her, Killian?"
The sound of Henry's voice was as effective as a bucket of ice water poured over her head, and Emma got to her feet so quickly her head swam (or was that from the mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss she'd just shared with Killian?). Behind her, she heard the rustling sounds that told her Killian had done the same.
The children came into view just as their parents got to their feet. Oh gods, how much of that did they see? Emma wondered as embarrassment covered her like a cloak.
"Aye, that I did," Killian said in a voice that was far from steady, "but then she returned the favor with interest. I suspect we'll have to call this particular battle a draw."
"That's okay!" Alice said, bouncing on the soles of her feet in her excitement. "It's getting cold anyway. How 'bout we all go to Granny's for some hot cocoa?"
She'd kissed him. Oh gods she'd more than kissed him. She'd full on made out with him right there in the snow with such wild abandon she'd lost all sense, all awareness of where they were and with whom. If Henry hadn't interrupted she legitimately had no idea what might have happened next.
Her embarrassment morphed into shame and disgust with herself.
And fear. So much fear.
Killian and Alice both were becoming so very important to her, she knew it would hurt like hell when they left her.
No, far better to nip this in the bud before she got in any deeper.
Emma took a step back. "Sorry, kid," she said Taking in both Alice and her father as she continued backing away. "We've got to get going."
"But mom!" Henry protested.
"Give Alice the book and let's go!" Emma answered in a tone that brooked no argument.
Turning, she nearly sprinted back to her bug, hoping Henry would follow quickly behind.
What had she done?
She'd ruined everything, and now all she could hope was that she'd make it to the privacy of her own room before she broke down.
"What happened?" Alice asked on the other end of the phone later that night.
"Don't know," Henry answered miserably. "Everything was going so good, and then…I just don't know!"
"Didn't you say they were kissing when you found them?" Alice asked. "Why would your mom get so upset?"
Henry shrugged before remembering she couldn't see him over the phone. "I don't know. Sometimes I don't understand adults at all."
"All I know is my dad has been sad ever since," Alice said. "Somehow, you've got to make sure your mom comes over on Christmas Eve like we planned!"
"Mom, come on! We've got to go take the book to Alice!" Henry said. "If we don't hurry we'll be late for Christmas Eve dinner with them!"
Emma groaned. She forgot she'd agreed when Killian asked them over for tonight. But that was before. Before a certain kiss for the ages, one she simply couldn't stop thinking about while she was awake or dreaming about when she slept.
His lips were so warm, firm yet gentle. The wet smacking sounds their mouths made as they turned one way then the next trying to go deeper, get closer, meld into each other. The taste of coffee and mint on his tongue. The way her body burned at every point of contact. The way she wanted more, so much more. The way she wanted EVERYTHING.
And that right there was the crux of the problem. She didn't just want his body. She didn't just want a quick roll in the sheets. She wanted a white picket fence life. She wanted their kids growing up together. She wanted him, and it hurt so much she didn't know how she would deal with it.
"I'll drop you off there, kid," Emma said, "but I think I'm gonna have to pass. I'm just...I'm just not up to it, okay?"
"Is it 'cause I saw you kiss Mr. Jones?" Henry asked with a frown, "'cause you're afraid I'd be upset? I'm not upset! I promise! I like Mr. Jones and Alice. I'd be happy if you went on dates with him and stuff."
Emma closed her eyes, feeling the pain well up again, and then she sat on the couch patting the seat next to her, waiting until Henry sat. "It's not because of you," she assured. "It just….wouldn't be a good idea. These things just don't seem to work out for me."
He was silent for a minute and then he took her hand. "Mom, not every guy's gonna be like my dad. Not every guy's gonna leave us. I know Killian really likes you, and I know you can trust him."
Emma wanted to believe that, wanted it more than any Christmas gift she'd ever gotten, but the fear was so strong, like a living clawing at her. "I don't know if I can take that chance."
"Please, Mom?" Henry pleaded. "It's Christmas! You can't just drop me off! We need to spend Christmas together! It's what families do!"
And really what could she say to that? How could she deny her kid his family at Christmas?
"Fine," she said on a sigh. "We'll go to the Jones's, but I don't want you to get your hopes up about anything happening between me and Killian."
Killian more than half expected Emma to cancel their Christmas Eve plans. He felt as disoriented after that kiss as he would if he'd gotten whiplash.
They'd been having such a nice day-talking, laughing, flirting, playing. And then she'd kissed the life out of him, leaving him feeling somehow both weak and boneless...and on fire with need for more.
And then the kiss was over and she was running away from him as quickly as she could manage. He wasn't stupid; he understood her like the open book she was to him. She was afraid. Her past had scarred her so badly he didn't know what it would take to heal her again.
Not for the first time, Killian wanted to hunt down Neal Cassidy and pummel him within an inch of his life.
Of course he was frustrated on his own account-his and Alice's, but even more so he ached at Emma's wounds, the ones that had yet to heal, the ones that were holding her back from happiness and love in her life.
She deserved better, she deserved so much better, but Killian knew she was afraid to reach for it.
He'd wanted to call her so many times over the past week, but he was afraid she wasn't yet ready to speak to him.
No, Killian certainly didn't expect her to keep their Christmas Eve date.
And so when he opened his door later that night to reveal not just Henry but Emma as well, his heart lurched in the pleasantest possible manner.
"Swan! Welcome!" He stammered as Henry pushed past them and the two children went off to amuse themselves elsewhere. "I was a bit afraid you wouldn't show up."
She glanced aside, everything about her looking uncomfortable. "I almost didn't. Henry can be very persuasive, though."
"Swan, can we talk about the elephant in the room?" He asked after a moment. Was it better to dance around the subject or attack it directly? He didn't know, but what he did know was that their kiss had sealed it in his mind.
He'd fallen deeply, passionately and irrevocably in love with Emma Swan. What manner of man would he be if he let the love of his life out of his life without even a fight?
"Killian, it was only a kiss," she said, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "How is that an elephant in the room?"
"It's what the kiss exposed," he answered, looking at her earnestly, willing her to see his sincerity. "I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, my Milah, to believe I could find someone else. That is until I met you."
Her eyes widened and she sucked in a deep breath as the impact of what he'd just said hit her.
"Killian…" she said warily. She wanted to run; he could see it in her eyes. He stopped her with a gentle hand to her arm.
"Emma, I don't say this to make you uncomfortable or to trap you into something you're uncomfortable with."
"Then why do you say it?" She asked, the anger heavy in her voice. He knew her well enough to see the fear and pain beneath the anger.
"Because you deserve to be loved," he said simply. "You deserve a man who will cherish you with every beat of his heart. If you don't wish that man to be me, I'll of course honor your wishes, but don't close yourself off from love, Swan. It's worth it."
"Is it, though?" She asked in a voice that ached. "I can't fall for you and then lose you. I can't. I can't lose you too."
His heart hurt at the pain in her voice, and almost unconsciously he rubbed at her shoulders. "I don't know what the future will bring," he said "no one does. What I do know is that I'd never leave you. I'd never willingly hurt you. Search me out. See if I'm lying to you."
He forced himself to stay still, open and honest while she stared into his eyes. After a moment she shook her head, something suspiciously like hope coming into her eyes for the first time all night. "No, I don't think you are."
"I'm not," he said firmly. "So what do you say, Emma? Will you take a chance on me? Take a chance on us?"
For a moment more she merely stood there, looking at him, and then she stepped forward kissing him slowly, gently.
From behind them came the sound of cheering. They broke apart, laughing at the sight of their two kids standing behind them jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.
"I told you it would work!" Alice said.
"You aren't mad at us for being sneaky, are you?" Henry asked.
Emma laughed before reaching down and threading her fingers with Killian's. "Nope. I think we are all gonna be so happy together there won't be any room left for anger, kid."
Notes: Happy New Year's Eve! These last two years have been challenging, to say the least, but I hope your 2022 is the best year yet!
–With this update, this particular story is at an end. Where Fluffy Fridays goes next, I don't know, but I'll see you in 2022 for more fluff and romance!