How about a queen?
Jules turns my way and barrels straight into me, which is completely fine. She gives a gasp of surprise as my hands come to her upper arms to steady her and her eyes travel slowly up until they lock on mine.
"There you are," she breathes out softly.
"Your prince?" I ask.
"The one and only," she murmurs back.
And yeah...so I go ahead and kiss her, because what else should be said?
Except when I pull my mouth from hers and take in her sweet sigh of contentment, I tell her what should have been my first words. "I love you, Jules. Madly. Head over heels. Crazy, crazy love."
Her eyes seem to glow with that shade of light amber that I love, which tells me she really, really likes what I just said to her. "I love you too, Max. So much."
She opens her mouth to say something else but then abruptly looks to her left. I do the same and see Allie and Cassie still standing there, mouths agape as they watch us. Jules turns, dislodges my hand from her arm and then tucks her arm in the crook of mine. She starts walking through the ballroom and I follow along, loving the way she feels beside me.
Relishing the looks of appreciation she gets from some of the men.
Secretly even loving some of the jealous looks of other women.
When we reach the opposite side of the ballroom and find a space not occupied by people mingling and chatting, she turns to me, taking both my hands in hers. Her face tilts up and her eyes are apologetic. "I'm sorry, Max."
I try to cut her off with a shake of my head but her hands squeeze mine, a silent indication she wants me to listen and that, more importantly, I need to listen.
So I listen.
"I'm sorry," she begins again. "I love you so much and I've acted like such a fool."
"You're a cute fool though," I say, only to lighten things up because she looks so seriously disappointed in herself.
I'm rewarded with a little bit of a smile as she continues on. "Here you were...an amazing man that came into my life and swept me off my feet. You were always bucking me up and telling me how strong I was, and I believed you. I believed every bit of faith you placed in me and that changed my life. And then...I got all up inside my head and ended up doing the exact opposite of what you believed about me."
"You had a moment of doubt," I say softly.
"No," she says with an almost violent shake of her head, but then gives me a sheepish smile. "Okay, yes...a little doubt. In myself, and whether or not I deserved someone like you. But never doubt in you. Not really even in us as a whole. I guess I prefer to think that I just had a moment of stupidity."
I can't help it. I bust out laughing, and because she's so fucking adorable, I tug her into me so I can wrap my arms around her. She reciprocates, but tilts her head back so she can keep looking up at me.
"Seriously, Max. Just plain stupidity," she insists.
"Okay. I believe you," I tell her, only so she'll let that part go. My girl is far from stupid. Maybe silly and a little susceptible to her emotions, but never stupid.
"I'm strong, Max," she murmurs as she looks up at me. "I'm strong and I'm not going to let anyone get me down or get in my way of being with you."
"I hear you, baby," I tell her.
"I am never going to be put off by what people think about me," she asserts more definitively, as if she's desperate for me to understand that she's all in. "And I'm never going to not be by your side. I'll be at every damn game that I can and I'll proudly be by your side for every charity event, or whatever else you famous people do."
Chuckling, I give her a squeeze. "That's nice, Jules. All of what you said. Just really nice. But you're leaving out the most important thing."
She rolls her eyes at me and leans back farther to level me with a bit of a stern look. "I was getting to the good part if you'd just have a little patience."
I incline my head in apology. "My bad."
She huffs out a breath of annoyance but her eyes show anything but. They're warm and vibrant and full of emotion. "I love you, Max," she says softly. "Just like you...it's madly. It's crazy, crazy. It's head over heels, tumbling further and further into it with you, but I am ready for every bit of dizziness that comes with it. I want it all, Max, but mostly I just want you."
Yeah...that right there.
That punch of elation hitting me square in the chest, taking hold of my heart, squeezing it almost painfully for just a moment before it starts to fill up with this feeling of joy and completeness.
That's a feeling I can get used to.
It's a feeling I don't ever want to do without, and now I'm hearing it straight from Jules...she doesn't want to do without it again either.
"Sounds like we're finally on the same page, baby," I murmur as I release my hold and move my hands to her face. Her own hands come up to lock around my wrists, holding me firm as she looks at me with shimmering eyes.
"We are so on the same page," she affirms softly, and then adds, "And Stevie's watching the kids tonight so I'm all yours until tomorrow morning."
I shake my head with an amused smile. "Uh-uh. You're mine forever."
She smiles at me...bright and brilliant and full of love. "My bad. I am absolutely yours forever."
One week later. Christmas Eve...
"We should have gone tonight," I tell Max as I burrow into his side on the couch. All the lights are off and there's nothing but the glow of the Christmas tree by which we can see. His left arm wraps around me and gives me a squeeze.
"No way in hell we should have gone," he says. His voice is low and mellow and oh so very happy. "This is how I want to spend Christmas Eve."
We skipped the traditional Christmas party at Brian Brannon's house, owner of the Cold Fury. It's not a mandatory party, from what Max says, and it sounds super fun, also from what Max says, but when it came right down to it...he wanted a more traditional evening.
That included bringing me and the kids to his house, where we found the space under the Christmas tree--which we'd put up just two days ago--filled with brightly wrapped presents. The evening included a meal I'd cooked, including a ham, sweet potatoes, a corn souffle, and a tourtiere I made just for Max, using his mother's recipe. After, we watched A Christmas Story with the kids, and before they went to bed, we let them each open one gift.
After that, Max and I waited a sufficient amount of time for the kids to settle down, and with a quick peek inside each of their rooms, where we'd put them to bed, we both went a little nuts laying out the gifts fro
m "Santa."
We overbought, no doubt. It had everything to do with the fact it was their first Christmas without Melody. Max bought a ton of stuff and I didn't even argue with him at all about it. I also bought a ton of stuff, depleting my savings account, but...oh well. I was happy and in love and I had amazing kids. This Christmas was going to rock!
Now as we're settled onto his couch and looking at the obscene number of toys under the tree, I'm just really glad we didn't go to Brian Brannon's party tonight, but rather celebrated privately our first Christmas together.
"Want to make out?" Max asks seriously, his hand sliding from my arm down to my hip.
"Of course I want to make out," I tell him as if that was the most stupid question in the world, because when don't I want to make out with Max?
With a low chuckle he hauls me onto his lap, positions me sideways, and then his mouth is on mine.
God, that just gets better and better.
This kiss is deep and passionate, and later we'll let it turn into a bit more before we go to sleep. But for now it's brief and I'm satisfied even as he pulls away and rests his cheek against mine so we can both look at the tree a little bit more.
"I can't wait for tomorrow," I murmur as I stare at the glowing lights.
Max gives me a squeeze. "They're going to flip out when they see the presents."
Yeah, they are.
I can't wait.
Three weeks later...
"This is the last one," Hawke says as he waddles in with a monstrous box housing all of my art supplies. "Where do you want it?"
"Sunroom," I say as I turn to point to the large glassed-in room just off the den area. My intent was to just set my stuff up in the basement somewhere but Max wouldn't hear of it. He said something about an artist needs natural light.
I started to argue with him because I didn't want to take over the sunroom. It was a beautiful place and didn't need my paints and brushes all around. But Max wouldn't engage with my argument and sort of put his foot down.
I kinda, sorta gave in very quickly, and let's just say...I'm learning when to be stubborn and when to let Max get a little alpha on me.
Which is kind of hot.
Hawke walks to the sunroom and unloads his burden, then immediately heads to the kitchen to pull a beer out of the fridge. He mutters, "Not sure how I got unloading duty."