Snowflake Kisses (11 page)

Could there be any great gift?

“Time for dessert!” Trotting down the stairs with Peter close behind, Alexa made the declaration, jarring Jackson into releasing his hold and surrendering the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Unaware of flowing undercurrents, Alexa crossed through the lounge and moved straight for the kitchen. “C'mon, Vannie. Help me slice the Yule log and pour tea for the two of us. Peter's requested a serving of brandy for himself and Jackson.”

“Fair enough.” Moving slowly away, Vanessa gave Jackson a wry, wistful smile and followed her sister-in-law into the kitchen. “I've got the serving dishes settled and ready to go.”

While dessert was consumed, conversations swirled about parties to come, traditions to be observed; Jackson couldn't focus. Words hummed and buzzed like so much noise. At length, he forced himself to participate.

“I meant to say from the start how great the tree looks now that it's all trimmed.” Jackson scanned the multi-colored fairy lights strung artfully through the branches of a full, thick tree that claimed the space of honor in front of a large picture window. Small white bows were paired with glittering ornaments of gold, burgundy, and silver. An angel perched upon the uppermost reaches, her luminous white gown and gossamer wings polishing the tree beautifully. More lovely Christmas memories to tuck into his heart and soul.

“Vanessa's handiwork. Lexie and I simply followed her lead. She has quite an eye.”

“I'll never argue the point.”

Vanessa's cheeks went pink. Fingertips trembling a bit, she brushed a wave of hair behind her ear and attraction sang through his blood.

“No snow tonight,” Peter observed, eyes twinkling as he sipped from a snifter of brandy. Jackson followed suit with his own drink after carefully swirling and hand-warming the rich amber liquid.

“On the cab ride over I noticed a crescent moon, and a sky full of stars. I won't complain.”

“Hard to believe we're counting down to your last few sleeps in London. The trip certainly started and ended with a bang, eh?”

Jackson's gaze went straight to Vanessa. From so much tension and uncertainty, love had sprung to life. “With no collateral damage in either instance, I'm relieved to say.”

Before long, Vanessa set aside her dishes, went to the tree, and retrieved a pair of gifts, which she handed to Jackson. She bent to kiss his cheek. “In honor of the season. Happy Christmas, Jackson.”

He stared into her eyes for an extra beat or two, brushing his knuckles against her silky cheek. According to the tags, one package came from Peter and Alexa, the other from Vanessa.

“It's sad you won't be here for Christmas, but we couldn't let you leave without a proper show of affection.” Alexa beamed him a smile, propping her head against Peter's shoulder and tucking her legs beneath her.

Jackson fingered the chunky square box from Vanessa then positioned the longer, heavier box from Peter and Alexa on his lap. “When I arrived, I tucked a few packages beneath the tree. There's one for Lexi and Peter, and I picked up a little something for CC as well.” He paused deliberately, egging Vanessa on while she waited with breath held and eager eyes. “And there's and an envelope for you, but you have to open yours last.”

Her answering pout was adorable. “That's so not fair. CC's already asleep. He can't open his until morning.”

She had him there. Jackson chuckled. “Then I suppose you can take your turn after Peter and Lexie.”

“You're redeemed.” Vanessa gave a satisfied nod. “As such, you get to unwrap first.”

Jackson dispensed with the bow and wrappings of Peter and Alexa's gift, lifting the lid of a thick, sturdy box and peeling back a layer of tissue paper. Tucked within was a gilt-edged, leather-bound book. The scripted name of the author was the first thing to catch his eye: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Peter leaned forward on his knees, as swept into the moment as any child. “It's an heirloom edition of the complete Sherlock Holmes. I know how much you enjoyed visiting the museum on Baker Street.”

Alexa nodded in earnest. “That was such fun. We hope you enjoy it.”

It was incredible, and would claim a spot of honor in his den. In America. That idea stirred a painful twinge—leaving Vanessa would be near impossible…

Jackson cleared the tightness from his throat. “This is amazing—thank you.”

The box from Vanessa was a challenge for him to figure. Lightweight, smallish, the shape gave no hint to the contents. Meanwhile, she waited in shy stillness, watching.

For fun, he took his time about tearing away golden ribbons and shimmery red paper. Vanessa, thumped the edge of the envelope impatiently against her palm, which elicited a grin. “That thing is burning a hole in your hand, isn't it, Vannie?”

She clucked her tongue and flipped a fall of deep brown hair over her shoulder. “Hush and open yours all the way already. I want to know if you like your prezzie.”

“I'm sure I will. I…” Playfulness stalled once he lifted the lid of a jeweler's box. Nestled inside he discovered a gold pocket watch that stopped him short. It was perfect. Perfectly Vanessa—perfectly British—and perfectly heart-tugging. “The gift of time. Vannie…this is incredible.”

Her features softened at his murmured words. “I wanted to gift you a beautiful timepiece that would help to mark the milestones of your life.”

Like our first Christmas together.
The thought dawned instantly, sealing his heart to hers with a tight ribbon of love.

Admiring the delicate etching, the old English inscription of his initials on the back, he stroked the front of the timepiece then clicked it open. Concise, dark Roman numerals marked each hour and the proper time had already been set. Something in that realization touched him like nothing else could.

He met her gaze directly. “No matter where my travels lead, I'm always going to keep this watch on British time.”

Tears formed a sparkling sheen against Vanessa's eyes. As she blinked them away, a pair trickled down her cheek so Jackson caressed them away before reexamining the piece. It would mark not just the passing of hours, but the motion of his heart toward this remarkable woman.

“Thank you, Vannie.” Following those whispered words and a lingering kiss, he delivered a nod. “OK, go ahead now, it's your turn.”

“It's about time, I say.” Putting on a show, of course, huffing with playful impatience, she sniffled and dashed excess moisture from her lashes before sliding her finger beneath the envelope flap and removing the contents—a glossy, envelope-sized piece of cardstock. Following a brief read of its inscription, her eyes went wide. “You can't possibly be serious.”

“I am, and we have just enough time to make our appointment if we leave in the next fifteen minutes.”

“So, you're not joking.” She whispered the words, covering her mouth, gaze pinging from him to Alexa, to Peter—who knew nothing of what he had done.

“I'm most certainly not. You once mentioned a bucket list item in need of exploring at 135 meters, remember? I'd like to help you make good on that wish.”

Alexa snatched the ticket from Vanessa's hand and gasped. “Jackson, do you mean to say you've rented a pod on the London Eye…for tonight…for just the two of you?”

“I did, along with chocolates and champagne and a much more relaxed and enjoyable voyage through the skies above London.”

While Vanessa continued to gape, Alexa giggled, and sighed dramatically, dashing to the front hall where he heard the gentle squeak of the coat closet door coming open.

“What better place to make plans for the future,” Jackson said quietly, arms around her waist, focus intent. “I leave for America in a couple of days, but my heart is here. I fully intend many return trips to you and the UK. I want to build on what we've found, Vanessa.” He propped his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you as well.” She nuzzled his neck, kissed both his cheeks before leaning back just a bit to capture his gaze in that coy, flirty way he treasured. “I'm a born jet-setter, you know. Love America. And I hear Los Angeles is wonderful.”

Alexa stepped forward, carrying their coats, a prompting glint in her eyes. “Yeah…it's wonderful…fabulous.” She tapped her wristwatch. “You've got maybe a five-minute cushion at best. Get going!”

Jackson didn't surrender his visual or physical hold on Vanessa. Not quite yet. Instead, he glided a fingertip against the tempting curve of her nose. “It occurs to me. The City of Angels. What a perfect spot for you.” He swept her into his arms and lifted her high, which earned him a happy exclamation. Following a sweet, smacking kiss, he settled her on her feet. “Shall we make a run for it?”

Radiant and glowing, Vanessa's smiled spread wide. “Absolutely. I'm with you all the way!”

 

 

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