Page 23 of Unruly

Except for that month, she had been home with him.

All December.

Just like he wanted.

Cross glanced at the clock on the wall as he headed down the stairs to the main level of their tri-level home. It told him it was well past one in the morning.

Merry Christmas, he told himself.

The morning was sure to be busy. Mass at church with his parents. Dinner with Catherine’s parents. An evening supper and party for his famiglia. Yeah, busy. He really could have used the sleep he was now missing.

“Catherine?” Cross called as he rounded the bottom steps.

“In the living room.”

Cross found Catherine sitting cross-legged in front of their live, nine-foot tall Christmas tree. White lights, gold and red trim, and a sparkling, twinkling star lit up the top. He had surprised her with the tree when he brought it home, and then helped her decorate every damn inch of the massive thing. The white lights reflected off the glass bulbs hanging on the tree branches, sending cascades of sparkles and colors lighting up the wall.

It was a beautiful piece of work.

It took them hours to do it.

Catherine peered up at him with a soft smile as he came to stand beside her. He let his hand drift through her waves of silky hair. Catherine hummed happily under her breath, and leaned into his touch even more.

“Don’t you look good,” she told him.

Cross cocked a brow. “How so?”

“Nothing but boxer-briefs on. Hey, if you put on a Santa hat, you could be my naughty—”

“Nope,” he interrupted.

Catherine giggled. “Hey, it was worth a shot.”

“What are you doing up, babe?”

“Something wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Cross’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze. “What, was I snoring or some shit?”

“Never.” She laughed. “I was just … I guess I had something on my mind.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Instantly, he moved to sit beside his wife, but the second he was on the floor, Catherine quickly climbed into his lap. Hugging her inside his embrace, he felt her relax.

Cross rested his chin on her shoulder, and soaked in her sweet scent. “You could have woke me up, Catty.”

“I know.”

“So, why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to be sure first.”

Cross had no idea what she was talking about. “Are you purposefully being vague, or what?”

“Do you want to open a gift?”

“No, I want you to tell me what’s up with you.”

Catherine sighed, and reached under the tree to grab a little gift box. Maybe six inches in length, and a half of an inch thick, he thought it probably held a bracelet or something. She placed it in her lap when he refused to take it from her hand.