I gladly take it, letting him tug me off the couch and into his arms. I can’t resist the urge to kiss him and I don’t have to anymore. Winding my arms around his neck and leaning up on my tiptoes, I kiss his perfect lips.

Mm, what a perfect Christmas Eve.

I drop my arms and take his hand, but as we head toward the bedroom, there’s a knock at the door.

Lee frowns and drops my hand, looking out the peephole before pulling the door open.

The concierge from the lobby is standing on the other side. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Holden, but a package was just delivered for you. It being Christmas Eve, I thought it might be a gift and you might need it for morning.”

He takes it rather grumpily, so I hurry over and thank the concierge for him.

“You’re such a grump sometimes,” I tell him, but I can’t keep the fondness out of my voice. Looking at the black rectangular gift box with an onyx ribbon tied around it, I ask, “Who’s it from?”

“Doesn’t say.” That makes him scowl harder as he yanks off the ribbon and opens the box.

His displeasure grows when he draws out a bottle of Cristal with a note attached. His expression turns downright thunderous when he reads what it says.

“That little asshole,” he mutters.

My eyes widen. I grab the note to see for myself.

Lee & Georgia-

Happy holidays.

-Caleb Grant

P.S. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.

I don’t know Caleb Grant very well, so I’m not sure what his intentions were when he sent this, but it’s not a stretch to imagine a smirk on his handsome face as he penned that note for my sometimes overly jealous boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

A happy smile claims my lips.

At the wrong time.

“Is this funny?” Lee demands, looking none too pleased.

“No? I think it’s nice.”

“Nice?”

I nod. “He sent you a gift. What’s wrong with that?”

Lee’s eyes narrow. “It’s not a gift, it’s a taunt.”

It might be, but it would serve no one to admit that. “It’s probably not a taunt. But even if it is… He’s a jerk. You know he’s a jerk. This isn’t news. At least we have champagne,” I point out, looking on the bright side.

Lee shakes his head and veers toward the kitchen. “I don’t need his fucking champagne. I’ll throw it in the trash.”

I grab his shoulder and try to pull him back. “Oh, come on. It’s a nice bottle. It was nice.”

“Smug little prick,” he mutters, shrugging me off and walking into the kitchen.

I hurry to catch up to him. “Don’t throw it away. It was a gift. Let’s open it and enjoy it.”