Home For The Holidays

“Do you know what I would’ve done to you if that slap had landed? Count yourself lucky that I got here in time. Don’t try it again, or you won’t be the only one who’s sorry.” I was silently congratulating myself on getting here when I did as well. For some reason, after we got off the phone earlier, it had hit me like a shot to the gut that not only did I not like my woman being away from me for this long but also, this thing that she had planned might not be as safe as she expects it to be.

I called myself six kinds of fool as I called up my pilot and had him call in a flight plan, threw some clothes in a traveling bag, and now here we are. Her gifts and the ones I got for her family are already here along with the surprise I got for her, but I, of course, had planned to wait until Xmas eve, which is when I was supposed to be here, to bring them to the house. Now I’ve shown up empty-handed.

I’m glad, though, that I followed my mind and my gut. When I couldn’t reach her before or after I landed, I knew I wouldn’t rest until I had eyes on her. I didn’t know, though, that I would walk in on what I just did. Since I knew how important it was to Sam that she handles Tessa, I’m going to let it go for now, but it was taking everything in me to give her that.

But since things had gone this far, there was something else I needed to take care of before the night was done. Samantha doesn’t know about this or that I’d planned to do this, but I won’t let one more day go by without taking care of it. Right now, she’s still her parents’ responsibility, so they might see it as interference on my part if something goes south and I get involved. Fuck that! She’s my responsibility; she’s been mine since the first moment I slid my body into hers. But it’s best, I think, to make it official.

“Samantha, take me to your dad.”

“Dad? Why what’s up? And what are you doing here? Aren’t you like two days early?”

“If you’d answered your phone, you would’ve known the answer to all that. Your father, now.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Neither of us bothered to pay Tessa any mind as Samantha turned to lead me inside.

I wasn’t sure what to expect of Thomas Sr. from the way Samantha describes him; it could be a grab bag. One minute I envision a big soft bear of a man and the next a Goliath. The man who came towards us down the hallway leading to the front door, I guess you can say, is a cross between both.

For one, he’s not nearly as old as I expected, maybe early fifties, tall and what some might call a hunk. I looked at Samantha and back to him, “you have his face.”

“Which makes her an exceptionally beautiful woman. Hello, I’m Thomas Sr. you must be the top-secret boyfriend.”

“Sir, Jared Macalister, may we talk? In private.” Samantha huffed next to me, but I ignored her. “Samantha, go find your mother and stay with her.” Just then, the door opened behind us, and I looked back to see Tessa coming in. “Don’t forget what I said.” I warned her again, “Sir, after you.”

I followed her dad into the study and closed the door because I was sure my little darling wouldn’t be able to keep her ass away. I didn’t ask him why the hell someone was about to hit his daughter on his watch, that’s no way to start things off, but he gained back my trust with his next question.

“What was all that out there? I thought I heard raised voices and was just on my way out there to see. Sam didn’t beat that girl up, did she?”

“No, I got here just in time to stop Tessa from hitting her.”

“What?” He flew out of his chair.

“I took care of it.”

“I appreciate it, but she’s still mine to take care of.”

Just as I thought, territorial are we? From the stories Samantha tells about her childhood and her dad’s stance on boys and his little princess, I expected no less. “Yes, that’s what I need to talk to you about.” I waited for him to settle down again before carrying on.

“Go on.”

I already told Samantha that we were getting married, but I figured with a man like him, it was best to go the old fashioned route. So though she calls me her fiancée and I call her mine, I hadn’t made it official no matter how much she bitched about it. For someone who claims not to be the least bit girly without an ounce of materialistic avarice in her, she sure had a lot to say about her ring and what it better not look like.