Free Healed by Rebecca Brooke Page A

much to do anyway. We can finish it tomorrow before we go to my mom’s house.
    We stayed in bed for the rest of the night, only getting out to answer the door for the takeout we’d ordered.

    Last night we went to Emily’s parents’ house. Angie hadn’t been kidding when she’d said things were crazy there for the holidays. Driving up to the house was a complete shock. I’d seen the house enough, but covered in lights it was insane. It wasn’t gaudy like the Griswold’s but it was definitely a sight you’d remember for a while.
    Even that was nothing compared to when I walked in the front door. The house was decorated beautifully, with a giant tree in the corner of their living room. That wasn’t even the end of it. There was an entire buffet lined up in the dining room, full of some of my favorite things. Turns out, while her mom is a great cook, Emily is the better baker.
    It all looked so wonderful, but the scary part came when I looked in their den at the other tree in the corner. It looked like Santa’s sled had crashed into the living room, there were that many presents, you could barely see the floor beneath all of the brightly wrapped boxes. It was a sight to see, but it was a bit awkward when I saw all of the tags under the tree with my name on it. I felt bad that they had spent all that money on me. When I mentioned it to Emily later in the night, she told me not to worry about it, explaining that that’s just how her parents were—they spent more time and effort on Christmas than they did for birthdays. With a little flutter in my stomach, I warned her not to expect the same thing tomorrow. My parents were the opposite, going crazy on birthdays instead. Don’t get me wrong, they enjoyed the holidays, they were just more subdued about it, with Mom spending hours and hours on a huge dinner. I looked forward to it every year. Now it looked like, between both sets of parents, we were going to get the best of both worlds. I just hoped Emily had as much fun at my parents’ house as I had at hers.
    Lying in bed I pried my eyes open, only to close them again to block out the light, knowing that the dull ache in the back of my head was only going to get worse when I got out of bed. Not only did her parents like presents, but the alcohol flowed freely as well. Ben just kept pouring drink after drink, and it wasn’t until Emily swiped my keys that I started to realize just how much I’d had. Eventually, Emily had driven us home so that we could get some sleep.
    It didn’t matter how bad my head hurt, it was Christmas morning so some Advil and a glass of water would have to do to fix the hangover, because what I wanted more than anything was to give Emily her present. By the snores coming from beside me, I knew she wasn’t awake yet.
    Taking advantage, I quietly slipped out of bed and to the bathroom. Grabbing the glass off the sink, I filled it to the top and dropped two Advil in my mouth. When I’d finished using the bathroom, I tiptoed over to the closet and felt around on the top shelf until my hand touched the bow on the top of the box. Just as quietly, I went back to the bed, slipping in beside my beautiful girl.
    Gently wrapping my arms around her, I pressed my lips to her temple. Her body pushed closer to mine and a soft moan left her throat when I didn’t stop there.
    “Merry Christmas,” I whispered, lifting my lips from her delectable body.
    “Merry Christmas,” she answered without opening her eyes. “What time is it?”
    Placing a kiss to her lips, I said against them, “Time for you to open your eyes . . . and your present.”
    I took the box and placed it on her flat belly, right in her line of vision. Her eyes fluttered open, and the blue of her irises reminded me of the sky on a clear summer day.
    “Is this for me?” she asked, lifting the box.
    “No, it’s for my other fiancée,” I joked, earning me a slap to the chest. “Ouch! Of course it’s for you.”
    The giddiness in