Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [56]
Everything eventually got sorted out, but until Ray was able to rescue Emily and assure his mother that all was well, it had been a complete and total circus.
“This isn’t the way I intended to spend Christmas Eve,” Ray said.
“It was wonderful,” Emily told him. His mother had known exactly what to do with the lobsters and she’d taken over in the kitchen, issuing orders and expecting them to be obeyed. Ray and Emily had happily complied. That evening, the three of them had feasted on the lobsters and a huge Caesar salad.
After dinner, they’d gathered in front of the fireplace, sipping wine and listening to Christmas music, and Bernice had delighted Emily with tales of her two sons growing up. Emily had enjoyed the evening immensely. And while he might complain, Ray seemed to take pleasure in their visit with his mother, too.
“She insists on taking us out for Christmas dinner,” Ray said.
“That would be lovely.”
“I’ll bet you’ve never eaten at a hotel on Christmas Day in your life.”
“True, but nothing about this Christmas is normal.”
Ray walked over to where she stood by the tree. “Do you mind sharing the day with my mother and me?”
Emily smiled. “I consider myself fortunate to be with you both.” She was sorry she couldn’t be with her daughter, but she’d come a long way since Heather had announced she wouldn’t be flying home for the holidays. She was far more prepared to accept Heather’s independence, for one thing; it was a natural, healthy process and it was going to happen anyway, so she saw no point in fighting it.
“You’re right, this isn’t the Christmas Eve I expected,” she added, “but I’ve had such a fabulous time in Boston and I owe it all to you.”
“I should be the one thanking you,” he whispered, drawing her into his arms. His kisses were gentle but thorough, coaxing and sensual. Emily’s knees were weak by the time he released her.
“I have something for you,” he said, stroking her arms. He seemed unable to stop touching her, and Emily was equally loath to break away from him.
“I have something for you, too,” she told him.
“Me first.”
“Okay.” They separated and went to their respective bedrooms to retrieve their gifts. A few minutes later, as they sat beneath the Christmas tree, he handed her a small beribboned box. Emily stared at the beautifully wrapped present and then at Ray.
“Open it,” he urged.
Her pulse going wild, she tore away the red satin bow and the wrapping paper. The jeweler’s box surprised her. This looked expensive.
“Ray?” Her eyes flew up to meet his.
“Open it,” he said again.
Slowly, Emily lifted the lid and swallowed a gasp. Inside was a cameo, about the size of a silver dollar.
“It’s on a chain,” Ray said.
“I love cameos,” she whispered, and wondered how he could possibly have known. “Did I mention that?” She had two precious cameos that were among her most treasured possessions. The first had belonged to her grandmother and the second, a small one about the size of a dime, held an even deeper significance. Peter had given it to her on their fifth wedding anniversary. Now she had a third.
“I didn’t know, but I saw this one and somehow I was sure you’d like it.”
“Oh, Ray, I do. Thank you so much.”
He helped her remove it from its plush bed. Emily turned her back to him and lifted her hair so he could connect the chain. This cameo was the most perfect gift he could possibly have given her. The fact that he’d sensed, after such a short acquaintance, how much it would appeal to her, was truly touching.
“This is for you,” she said shyly, handing