Tattoos & Tinsel (3 page)

floor between us and my personal favorite Christmas movie showing

–
Miracle on 34th Street.

The sprawling, and the sofa, weren’t anything particularly new for us.

The Christmas pj’s, that we’d changed back into after dinner – they

were a seasonal thing.

Chris sighed heavily in deep contentment and I ran my hand over the

back of his head, down his neck and tucked it around his waist. I

thought, for a while, that he might be sleeping, until he stretched and

sat up.

“Today was awesome,” he said as he rocked his head from side to

side, stretching out the aches in his neck.

“For me, too.”

“I want something else to eat,” he mumbled and I laughed as he

hauled himself up off the sofa and staggered down to the kitchen,

returning ten minutes later with an enormous sandwich layered with

ham, salad and coleslaw.

And a bag of chips.

I had to admire how much food he could manage to put away, and his

youthful metabolism that allowed him to burn it all off again. To be

fair, he did go to the gym a few times a week. I did not.

When he was done I dragged him close and kissed his cheek. I had a

confession to make.

“I got you something else,” I admitted, my lips hovering over his skin.

Chris laughed. “I got you something else, too.”

“I want to go first,” I said, sliding to the floor and reaching under the tree for the box that I’d hidden at the back. He joined me next to the

tree, sitting cross legged with a big grin. I handed him the box,

exchanging it for a long, slow kiss where his tongue explored mine

before he pulled away.

Chris pulled the paper from the box and looked up at me with a mixed

expression of shock and awe. The watch wasn’t the most expensive,

but it was a lot nicer than the cheap plastic thing he wore most days.

I’d chosen one made of dark metal and a black face, expecting it to

look good on his pale skin next to his bright tattoos.

“Wow…” he said. “Thank you. It’s amazing.”

I smiled as he pulled the watch out of the box and fixed it to his wrist; since we were a similar size, I’d had them adjust it to fit me and it fit him perfectly. Once it was secured he launched himself into my lap,

peppering my face with kisses.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you like it,” I said, laughing. I rubbed my hands

up and down his sides and caught his mouth in another, slower kiss.

“My turn,” he said as we broke apart again and found another, much

smaller box from the pile of gifts.

I turned the box over in my hands before looking at him, trying to

figure out if I should be nervous. His face just showed excitement, so

I pulled off the paper and opened the box.

Nestled inside the black velvet were two rings.

One of them I recognized – I’d given it to him a little under a year

ago, after he’d come back to Boston. It was never meant to be an

engagement ring, more of a promise of my commitment to him. Since

he wore it every day I wasn’t sure when he’d taken it off to wrap up

with the other one… thinking back, I was sure he was wearing it at

dinner…

The second ring was smooth silver, like Chris’s, but decorated with a

Celtic knot pattern.

I pulled both from the box and rolled them around in my hand.

“Chris…” I started, but he shook his head to stop me and scooted

forward, throwing his legs over my thighs so we were pretty much as

close as we could get. He reached out and caught my free hand in

both of his.

“I’d ask you myself,” he said. “But I’d probably do it wrong. And

you’re so much more romantic than I am.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You seem to be doing well so far.”

He smiled, his eyes so warm and full of love it made my stomach flip

over. “I’m going to say yes,” he murmured. “I just want you to ask.”

“Okay,” I said, conceding. I shifted a bit, closing the small gap until

we were sitting practically nose to nose. He hadn’t given me any time

to think about how I wanted to do this but maybe that was for the

best. I was the sort of person who would probably obsess over getting

it right, and he hadn’t given me chance to do that.

The white lights on the tree were twinkling softly, casting shadows

over his face and I thought I might always associate the scent of pine

needles with this moment.

“I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, one day at a

time,” I said, twisting my hand until our fingers tangled together.

“Starting with today. I love you so fucking much, Chris,” I added,

laughing a little as he squeezed my hand. The cursing was definitely a

side effect of living with him for this long. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” he said immediately. His eyes were bright with excitement and

I laughed softly, breathless with emotion, then kissed him.

We fumbled with the rings, me returning his to the fourth finger on

his left hand and him slipping the new ring on to mine. The metal was

already warm, from where it had been clutched in my palm while I’d

worked out my clumsy proposal.

The desperation to be close to each other, as close as possible, meant

we ended up making love on the floor, right under the tree. I knew he

was probably sore from the night before and took my time with his

body, teasing him up and over the edge before losing myself inside

him.

After, we laid back in front of the fire, his head on my belly and my

hand stroking his hair. He was quiet, but I knew he was still awake by

the sound of his breathing.

“I thought you didn’t want to get married,” I said, breaking the

silence.

“When did I say that?” he said.

I tried to think back. “I don’t know,” I said lamely.

“I didn’t want to get married before I met you. Things change, I

suppose.” He shifted around and crossed his arms on my chest, resting

his chin on the back of his hands. I was treated to one of his slow,

lazy smiles that warmed me up from the inside.

“I never thought I’d get married before I met you either,” I said. “My

whole life changed when we got together.”

“For the better?”

“So much better it’s barely worth thinking about,” I told him. It was

the absolute truth.

Chris ducked his head, scratched his nose, then looked back at me. “I

can’t wait to be married to you,” he said softly.

“Me too, baby.”

Any ideas I may have had about locking myself away with Chris and

spending the rest of our lives in some kind of naked, gay, hippy utopia

were dashed with the arrival of the next morning. We had planned to

make food – a lot of food – and my alarm went off early, reminding

me that I needed to get up and start cooking.

A few things were easy; the chili was already made, it just needed re-

heating and I was making a nice, warming curry, too. The leftover

ham from the day before was going to be cut up cold, Chris agreed to

make a salad and some pasta with pine nuts and pesto and I made a

large bowl of rice to serve with anything.

We weren’t expecting our guests until lunchtime; that did not mean,

however, that we weren’t rushed and slightly crazy all morning. I

found myself diving into the shower only thirty minutes before I was

expecting people. When the doorbell rang for the first time I was just

buttoning up one of the shirts Chris had given me.

I reached the door before he did, opening it to Luisa and all her

children.

“Hey, Chlo,” I said to my daughter and found myself on the receiving

end of one of her rare hugs.

“Happy Christmas, Dad.”

I squeezed her a little tighter than normal. “Happy Christmas,

darling.”

The one thing guaranteed to make me feel like an old man was having

a fifteen year old daughter. Chloe was, against all of my best attempts,

turning into a young woman; she was petite, like her mother, and she

had obviously gone to some effort to make her hair shiny and curly.

Unlike most fathers with teenage daughters I didn’t mind her wearing

makeup, not when Lu seemed to have taught her how to apply it with

a lighter touch.

She was wearing a red dress and black tights and diamond earrings,

beautiful, and sophisticated. Until she opened her mouth, of course.

I could distinctly remember my own father telling me when I was

younger that I would only realize that my parents were right when my

own children started telling me I was wrong. There was no way I’d

ever admit it, but he was right.

As I was mid-hug with Chloe, Chris appeared and immediately

scooped up Luisa’s youngest daughter, Cassie, who thought that Chris

was quite possibly the most wonderful person on the planet. The two

of them had a lovely relationship that I admired – I attributed his ease

with children to being part of a large family himself.

Over the next half hour our home filled with friends, family, and

those people who fell into both categories at once. The strange layout

of our house – the kitchen on the lower floor and living room upstairs

– didn’t really cater to having guests move between the spaces very

well. It had been a concern until everyone arrived.

People seemed content to move, or stay in one space, or even sit on

the stairs to chat and catch up. As the afternoon moved on, and people

started eating, I began to relax.

When our guests seemed settled Chris and I pulled Chloe aside. I

didn’t want to do it in my office, but there were people everywhere

and we didn’t want an audience, and it was a better location than our

bedroom.

“Chloe, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about,” I said,

leaning back against my desk. To sit down would make me feel like

her teacher, which would just be weird.

Chris hoisted himself up to sit on the windowsill and smirked at me.

“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking

between him and me with growing suspicion. “What?”

“Chris and I have been talking, and we’ve decided to get married,” I

said calmly.

It took a few seconds for her to absorb the information, and then she

broke into a big grin. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” I said, matching her smile.

“Oh my god!” she squealed and launched herself into my arms,

laughing. “That’s so cool!”

Chris slid to the floor and joined us in a three way hug; Chloe

immediately opened her arms and pulled him in close too.

“When is the wedding going to be?” she demanded as she pulled

away. “Did you get rings? Can I be a bridesmaid?”

“Can you be a bridesmaid if there’s not going to be a bride?” I

countered.

“Dad,” she said, giving me a
look
.

“Leave her alone,” Chris said, elbowing me in the side. “Of course

you can. Your dad gave me a ring a long time ago, remember? But I

got him one for Christmas.”

Feeling like a big fucking girl, I held out my hand for her inspection.

“We’ll probably leave it for a while yet,” I said as she ran her thumb

over the pattern on the ring. “We’re not in any rush.”

“I’m really happy for you,” she said. Chris hugged her again and I felt

a choked up, something stuck in my throat. They were the two most

important people in my world.

“We’re going to tell people later,” I said as they broke apart. “I

wanted you to know first, though.”

“You haven’t told anyone yet?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Chris said. “Rob wanted you to know before anyone else.”

“Thanks,” she said with a little smile.

If we were gone for too much longer people would notice us missing;

Chloe slipped out of the office first, leaving me alone with Chris. His

face brightened into the sort of smile that filled me up inside.

“She took that well.”

I nodded. “I thought she might.”

We held hands as we rejoined the crowd.

After a while, I found the confidence to sit back and just enjoy having

so many people around who I actually enjoyed spending time with,

instead of fussing and worrying if everyone was happy. I managed to

hold a proper conversation with Luisa for the first time in ages; her

husband was taking care of their baby son and Chris seemed to have

Cassie permanently attached to his side.

“Congratulations,” Lu said, nodding toward the ring on my finger. I

blushed and nodded.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“When are you going to make an honest man out of him, then?” she

asked as she stretched her legs out in front of herself and balanced a

glass of spiced rum on her stomach. It was an impressive feat.

“Sometime next year, I expect,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about

taking Chloe to Scotland.”

Lu raised an eyebrow at me, her expression clearly conveying a

message that could only be
are you high?

“When?”

“I’m thinking in the spring,” I said. “When I have time off. Chris and

I were talking, and I want to take her to Edinburgh and maybe

London, too.”

“She’ll shit a brick, Robert,” she said and sipped at her drink. “If you

want to do it I don’t have a problem.”

I nodded, pleased that she approved of the plan. I hadn’t mentioned

Paris, but Chris wanted to go there too and I was thinking of adding

the third city to the trip, drawing it out over two weeks. Lu was right –