Falling In (The Surrender Trilogy 1)

There was a thin, red satin bow tied to her ring finger. The ribbon hanging from it pulled taut and her finger pinched. She stood. Inching one hand over the other, she followed the red ribbon trail out of the bedroom. Once she reached the hall, she unraveled the ribbon from where it looped over the clawed foot of a chair and discovered a note. Evelyn collected the slip of paper and followed the ribbon farther down the hall.

The carols grew louder, but still remained only a soft part of the background. She discovered one note after another, wishing more and more that she could read just one of them. When she approached the top of the stairs, she found Lucian sitting in a chair that had been moved to the foyer. He wore a satin robe and held the other end of the long ribbon. Smiling, he gave the ribbon a tug.

He was like no one else in this world. Common sense told her nothing lasted forever, and sublime happiness only meant the sadness that followed would hurt all the more. But Evelyn recognized how happy she was and pushed away her ever-present trepidation.

As she stepped off the bottom stair, she gathered the bundle of ribbon and walked to Lucian. He tugged until she leaned down and kissed him. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas.”

He took her hand and traced a finger over the bow. “Just what I wanted, already wrapped for me in a pretty bow.” He undid the bow and pulled her to his lap. He kissed her soundly and left her dizzy. “Now that I’ve opened my present, which I cannot wait to play with all day, how about you open yours?”

She tilted her head and he tipped his chin, gesturing toward the tree. She swiveled in his lap and gasped. Boxes and boxes of beautifully wrapped gifts covered the skirt of the tree, spilling onto the floor.

“They’re not all for me . . .” Evelyn said, a bit overwhelmed by such grandeur.

“Of course they are. I had twenty-two Christmases to make up for. Come on.” He pulled her to the floor and she sat paralyzed. There was just so much.

“Here,” he said, placing a small box in her lap. “Open this one first.”

She hesitated. “Wait. I have something for you too.”

Slipping off his lap, she returned to the bedroom. She quickly used the bathroom and went to her bags stowed in the closet. There, inside her small, rumpled sack sat his gift. It was not enough to fill beneath a tree or even weigh down a single branch, but it was what she could afford and she put a lot of thought into it.

Her lips thinned nervously as she made her way back down the grand staircase. Lucian looked up, his expression curious and adorably childlike. He smiled. “You got me another gift?”

He’d worn the belt she’d purchased often. This was nothing as extravagant, but she hoped he’d like it all the same. She handed him the small box. “It’s nothing special.”

He took the package and glanced down at it then back to her. “Of course it’s special. People don’t give me things often. Your thoughtfulness is a gift in itself, Evelyn.”

She lowered her gaze, his praise warming her heart. “Open it.”

The sound of paper tearing played over the soft hum of carols. He lifted the lid and stilled. “Oh, Evelyn.”

“I saw it at a pawnshop months ago and asked Dugan to pick it up for me. It isn’t new, but I liked it and thought you would too.”

She held her breath as he lifted the vintage pocket watch out of the box. It was scratched and slightly tarnished, but it still told time. She wanted him to always remember their time together, even if a time came when they were no longer a part of each other’s lives.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.” His expression was sincere. As a matter of fact, he seemed beyond moved by the gift.

“It really isn’t much.”

His gaze shot to hers and his brow lowered. “I think it’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever given me. I’ll keep it with me always.” He pulled her to his lap and kissed her. Tucking the watch into the silk pocket of his robe, he leaned over and handed her the gift she’d left on her chair. “Here. Open it.”

Her fingers trembled as she carefully undid the tapings. She had never unwrapped a present before. It made her sad to destroy such lovely coverings. Some odd hoarder part of her personality that she didn’t know she had wanted to save every bit of paper and tuck it away to look at on rainy days, memories of brighter times.

Once she had the box opened she peeled back the tissue and pulled out a canvas bag. “It’s a bag.”