Christmas Sugar (Insta-Spark)

He studied the ring, then looked at me. “She doesn’t want to leave here, but I think, for you, she will.”

I shut the lid and slid the ring back into my pocket. “She won’t have to. I’m going to come here. To her.” I looked past him to the ocean. “I’m going to build her a house—on the bluff, or wherever she wants it. Create a home and a life with her.”

He sighed, a long puff of white escaping his mouth. “Be the husband she deserves. The one my son couldn’t be for her.”

He shrugged at my raised eyebrows.

“I’m old, not blind. Alex and Eric were great friends, and that is how they should have remained. Alex has been a godsend to me, but she stopped living a long time ago. When Eric died, she mourned her friend and Noelle’s father, but not her soul mate. She deserves that.” He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I saw how she looked at you. She found that with you. I think you found that with her.” He hesitated and extended his hand. “You have my blessing, Dylan. I know you’ll look after all of them.”

I took his proffered hand. “With everything in me.”

He smiled. “I know. Now, you’d better get that haul inside and set it up.” He chuckled. “But I guarantee, nothing you’ve bought gift-wise will compare to the joy they’ll have when they see you.”

I smiled back at him. Being with them was going to be my greatest gift as well.

I paced the bar, nervous as I sipped on a brandy. George had offered me a room so I could get some sleep, but I knew it would be a waste. I wouldn’t rest until I could be with Alex. He left me alone, saying he was sure Alex would be down soon anyway. I knew he was trying to give us our privacy for when she arrived.

Regardless of George’s thoughts and his blessing, I had no idea how Alex would feel about seeing me. What her reaction to my proposal would be. I had spoken with her once—and it was brief—since the day I left. Daily, I fought against the need I felt, the yearning for her. And in doing so, I hurt not only myself, but also Alex and her children. I’d let my fears and doubt swamp me, and therefore, I denied us the one thing we all needed: to be together.

The elevator sounded, and I watched as Alex stepped out, carrying some brightly wrapped packages. I knew money was tight for her, and she made the day more about family and time together than about gifts. There had been some presents for each of the kids under the tree from her and George and some friends. George told me she always added the ones from Santa, sneaking back upstairs before Noelle got her up, anxious to go downstairs. I knew that was what she was carrying. Two gifts each and a fat stocking for them each to open.

She was wearing a pair of fuzzy pants and a long sweatshirt, which I realized was mine—the one I couldn’t find when I went home. She still had it and was wearing it tonight—that made me happy. Her hair was hanging around her shoulders, a dark cloud of messy waves. She looked tired and sad . . . a fact I planned to change in the next couple of minutes. I wanted her smile—that wide, beautiful one she had especially for me. I hoped that it was still mine.

She stopped abruptly, shock evident on her face when she saw the piles of gifts now under the tree. Slowly, she came forward, setting down her gifts, hanging up the stockings by the fireplace. She lowered herself to her knees, looking at the surprise gifts, reading the tags. She sat stock-still for a moment, simply holding a box with Noelle’s name on it. I was horrified to see tears running down her cheeks when she lifted her face.

“No, Dylan,” she said and sobbed into the seemingly empty room. “We didn’t want your gifts, we wanted you.”

Dropping the package, she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

They wanted me. Dylan. Not the business tycoon, not my money or the gifts it could buy. Me.

My sock-covered feet made no noise as I went to her. Kneeling and wrapping my arms around her, I drew her close. “You have me, my darling girl.”

I opened my eyes, the darkness of the night still around me. I pushed up off the mattress and pulled my legs up to my chest. I drew in a few deep breaths, hoping to dispel the constant heaviness in my chest.

I knew it was useless. I knew what it was.

I missed Dylan. Desperately.

From the moment his car had disappeared around the corner, I had missed him. It was crazy. I had known him mere days, yet his departure left such a hole in me, I found myself unable to cope. I spent hours thinking of him. Of the way his mouth felt on mine. How safe I felt when he was beside me. Of the way the haughty expression on his face morphed into something warmer, sweet, almost loving when he was in the room with us.

All of us.

His leaving had affected each of us in different ways. Seth was quieter, almost angry at times. Noelle bounced between her usual cheerful self and being withdrawn and misbehaving. She had begged me to send “Dywan” some cookies.

“He needs dem, Mommy. He be sad wifout dem.”

I wondered if he had received them yet. What he would think.

I wondered if we ever crossed his mind at all or if he had returned to his life and ceased to think of us.

The thought of that happening increased the ache in my heart.

I slid from bed, knowing trying to sleep was useless. After checking on Noelle, I gathered the Santa gifts and stockings I had made and headed downstairs. Perhaps I would curl up on the sofa by the tree and wait for the kids to get up. I wanted to make the day a nice one for them.

The lobby was quiet, the tree lights glowing in the darkness. The one other light was the lamp in the corner. Something was different, but it wasn’t until I got closer to the tree that I saw what it was.

Presents. Many of them, piled under the branches, the shiny paper catching the light. I stared, frozen at the mountain of Christmas gifts that had magically appeared since I went upstairs earlier.