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Hope's First Christmas (Brie's Submission Book 19) Page 9
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Brie looked up at Sir, giggling.
“Apparently, our daughter has simple tastes, like her mother,” Sir said with amusement.
Brie shrugged. “What can I say? I know what I want and I don’t need anything else.”
Sir sat down on the floor beside her. “And it’s something I greatly admire about you, Brie.”
“Sir, I actually made you something. I hope you like it.”
He took her hands in his and said, “Anything made by these two lovely hands will be perfect.”
She smiled self-consciously as she grabbed the box wrapped in gold paper from under the tree and gave it to him. Brie watched with anticipation as he carefully unwrapped it and lifted the lid of the box.
“Interesting,” he commented, taking out a digital frame.
“Press the button on the side,” she instructed excitedly.
Sir moved closer to her so Hope could see the screen before he pressed the button.
“Arms Wide Open” by Creed began to play as photos of Sir and Hope flashed across the screen, starting from her delivery day to now.
Hope stared at it, transfixed, until the very end.
Sir watched it intently, saying nothing.
Afterward, Brie apologized. “I know the song says ‘he’ but—”
Sir stopped her, his voice choked with emotion. “Don’t apologize. This…” He looked back at the screen that ended with of picture of him cradling Hope as she gazed up at him with a look of wonder. “The song and these pictures describe my feelings perfectly.”
Brie smiled, wrapping her arms around him. “You are an amazing father, Thane Davis.”
He put an arm around her as he reached out to caress Hope. “Thank you for giving me the chance to become one.”
Sir grinned at Hope as he tossed several bows in the air. Shadow suddenly took an interest and started batting the bows across the floor like a kitten—much to the delight of their daughter.
“I love Christmas,” Brie sighed in contentment, leaning against his shoulder.
Sir pulled out a small box from his pocket. “Even though you are a woman of simple tastes, I thought you might enjoy this.”
Brie looked at him in surprise as she took the small red velvet box and opened it. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it. She took out an elegant but simple gold bracelet engraved with the words “Condors Forever”.
“I love it,” she whispered, overcome with love.
Sir took it from her and fastened it around her wrist. Taking her hand, he kissed it tenderly. “You gave me a new life and I will always be indebted to you for it.”
She shook her head, blushing. “I believe it was the other way around.”
He kissed her passionately on the lips, murmuring, “I love you, Brie.”
She returned his kisses, her heart bursting with joy.
“I love you, Thane.”
Russian Gifts
At exactly one in the afternoon, per Rytsar’s instructions, Brie, Sir, and Hope headed over to his house. Brie couldn’t wait for Rytsar to open his gift!
“I know he said he was keeping things simple this year, but I suspect Hope is exempt. I have a feeling his tree will be overflowing with presents.”
“I certainly hope not,” Sir said, ringing his doorbell.
Rytsar answered the door himself and spread his arms wide. “Merry Christmas!”
Hope reached out for Rytsar and he took her from Sir’s arms. “Was Santa good to you, moye solntse?”
“Santa was,” Brie giggled, “but all she was interested in were the bows.”
Rytsar laughed, smiling at Hope. “A young lady who knows what she wants.” He looked at them, his eyes sparkling as he moved aside. “Come in, come in…”
Brie’s attention immediately went to the tree, where she was surprised to see only one wrapped box. Maybe he really was going simple this year. The only problem was that his gift didn’t have a bow. No matter how awesome the gift, Brie was unsure that Hope would care for it without a bow attached.
“I see you have a gift for me. Can I open it?” Rytsar asked, looking at the gift she held in her hand.
“Of course you can,” she said, handing him the gift she had lovingly wrapped. “Merry Christmas!”
Rytsar took it from her and carried Hope to the couch, setting her on his lap so he could unwrap his gift. He pulled off the red bow and handed it to Hope, who giggled in delight.
“She’ll be happy for the rest of the afternoon,” Sir chuckled.
Rytsar ripped the paper, then suddenly stopped, tears coming to his eyes as he stared down at it.
Brie explained. “I remembered so vividly that moment when you returned to us and you hummed the lullaby to Hope and she smiled. It was so beautiful. I was inspired by your painting of your mother and asked an artist to capture that moment for me.”
A single tear ran down his cheek as he finished unwrapping it and held it up for Hope to see. The pencil drawing showed Hope cradled in Rytsar’s arms. She was looking up at him with a big smile. His eyes sparkled with joy as he looked down at her. The artist had been able to capture the joy of that moment perfectly.
Rytsar looked at Brie and nodded, wiping the tear away.
She smiled at him lovingly. “Merry Christmas, Rytsar.”
“Thank you, radost moya.”
Brie felt that warm feeling she always associated with Christmas when she gave the perfect gift to someone she loved—there was nothing else like it.
“Do you have anything for me?” Rytsar asked Sir.
“I do, but it isn’t time yet.”
“Oh, being mysterious about it? I like that moy droog.”
Rytsar gestured toward the tree. “Radost moya, would you get that present for me?”
“Of course.” Brie walked to the ridiculously large Christmas tree. Rytsar had covered it in beautiful ornaments from Russia. She smiled when she noticed the little sun ornaments scattered throughout.
Bending down to get the gift, she heard a long wolf whistle. “Nice ass, wife.”
Brie turned around and grinned at Sir. “Why thank you, husband.”
She brought the gift, wrapped simply in brown paper, to Rytsar and sat down next to him to watch as he opened it for Hope.
Naturally, Hope was playing with the red bow and showed no interest as he unwrapped the gift.
“Don’t take it personally,” Brie told Rytsar.
“I’m not worried,” he assured her. “I know exactly what this little girl needs.”
He opened the box and pulled out a red leather bridle. “Moye solntse, this is for you!” When he shook it, the metal made a tinkling sound that drew her attention for two seconds before she went back to playing with her bow.
Rytsar smiled as he called out to his man, Maxim. “Bring moye solntse’s present to the front.”
Maxim nodded and headed out the front door.
Sir stared at Rytsar. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” Rytsar stood up, grinning as he headed out with Hope.
Brie and Sir followed behind him, looking at each other in surprise.
“She’s much too young,” Sir protested.
“Nonsense!” Rytsar declared as he walked through the front door with Hope just as Maxim rounded the corner, leading a beautiful white pony with a braided mane decorated with holly.
“A pony?” Brie cried.
“I call him Malen’kiy Voin, Little Berserker. But, naturally, moye solntse can call him whatever she likes.”
“You are not giving her a pony,” Sir stated.
“I already did,” Rytsar said, smirking when Hope dropped her bow and bounced in Rytsar’s arms, grasping for the pony.
He walked over to the animal and knelt down so she could pet his white fur.
The pony turned his head and nickered softly.
Rytsar told them, “You have that area out back. I see no reason why you can’t replace the hot tub with a pony-sized stable.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Sir said harshly.
Rytsar stood up and smiled at him. “I am!”
Sir frowned. “What?”
“Moye solntse is too little for a pony.” He burst out laughing. “The look on your face, moy droog! Priceless.”
Brie giggled, having bought it hook, line, and sinker. “You are wicked, Rytsar.”
Rytsar knelt back down so Hope could pet the pony again, saying, “I borrowed him from a friend. You do not have to worry about losing your precious hot tub, comrade.”
“That was never going to happen,” Sir asserted.
“Bring the pony inside,” Rytsar told Maxim as he headed back into the house.
“You’re bringing him inside?” Brie laughed.
“Of course,” Rytsar stated as if it were a normal thing to do.
When Brie walked into the house, her jaw dropped. The tree which had been empty of presents before was now full of them.
“You claimed you were going simple this year,” Sir stated when he saw the mound of presents.
Rytsar shrugged. “Eh? What’s the point of having money if you can’t spend it on the people you love?”
“So that was all an act?” Brie laughed.
“Da. I am not a man to hold back.”
“You never were,” Sir muttered.
Rytsar showered Hope in bows as he unwrapped the multitude of gifts he’d bought for her. But the one that touched Brie’s heart the most was the vintage Russian circus horse pull toy.
Rytsar opened it and told Hope. “When I was a little boy, I had one just like this. It was my favorite toy.”
After he was done showing it to Hope, Brie asked, “Can I see it?”
When Rytsar handed it to her, she noticed a special glint in his eyes and knew it brought back good memories for him.
Brie looked at the prancing white horse on a blue stand with wheels underneath. The toy had a braided cord with a blue wooden ball for a child to grasp as they pulled it across the floor.
The old toy was charming and like nothing she’d had growing up. Brie could imagine Rytsar as a tiny boy pulling his own toy horse. The image brought her great joy.
It wasn’t lost on Brie that both Rytsar’s horse Voin, and the little pony he’d brought today bore a striking resemblance to the toy.
“I think I need a break from all this chaos, and I bet the pony does, too,” Sir stated, looking at the mountain of wrapping paper and boxes scattered about.
“Excellent idea,” Rytsar agreed. “Let’s breathe in the ocean.”
Rytsar picked up Hope and handed her a gold bow. Meanwhile, Maxim snapped on the lead rope to the pony’s bridle and then handed it to Rytsar.
They walked outside, heading to the water with the pony following behind them.
As they stood there, watching the waves come in, Brie heard a single-engine plane above them and looked up. “Oh my!”
The other two looked up as the plane finished writing first a number sign followed by the number one.
Brie grinned. “Isn’t that sweet? I loved when you did that for Hope, Rytsar.”
The Russian smiled, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the plane. “‘#1’ at what, though?”
The three of them watched the plane swing around to make the letter “D”.
“Dad,” Rytsar stated. “It must be ‘Dad.’”
Sir nudged Brie. “Is this your doing, babygirl?”
She shook her head, blushing. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I wish I’d thought of it.”
Brie looked back up, anxious to see what the next letter was.
When the plane made the letter “Y”, Rytsar chuckled. “Ah, so you did this for me, radost moya,” he stated proudly.
Brie blushed a deeper shade of red. “Sorry, no.”
“Don’t be such a narcissist, Durov,” Sir admonished him. “It’s obvious he’s spelling out the word ‘dynamo.’ It’s the only other word that makes sense.”
They all watched to see if he was right, but the next letter was definitely an “A”.
When it swung back around and made another “D” there was no mistaking the word.
“‘Dyadya’. I knew it!” Rytsar shouted, grinning wide. “Confess. Which one of you did this?”
Brie laughed. “It wasn’t me.”
They both looked at Sir, who shrugged modestly.
Rytsar chuckled as he handed Hope to Brie. Walking over to Sir, Rytsar embraced him in a bear hug. “You are trickier than you look, moy droog.”
Sir returned the hug, laughing.
While Rytsar looked back up at the sky, Sir got his phone out and started recording.
“I can’t believe you called me a narcissist when I was right,” Rytsar complained.
“Well, you are,” Sir answered, grinning as he continued to record the skywriting.
Rytsar said nothing for several moments while the plane finished the message and then said, “Thank you for this, brother. It means more than I can say.”
Sir turned to look at him, his phone still focused on the sky. “I thought you’d like it.”
Looking back up at the message in the sky,” Sir added, “I speak only the truth, brother.”
Tears came to Brie’s eyes, deeply moved by the love Sir and Rytsar had for each other.
When the plane flew off and the letters were only wisps in the air, the three of them, along with the pony, headed back to his house.
“I want to show you something in my garage,” Rytsar stated. He handed Maxim the pony’s lead and ordered him to open the garage.
As the garage door slowly rose, Rytsar stated, “I have always wanted to own one of these…”
Inside was a classic, black Harley Davidson with chrome pipes.
“Oh, Rytsar, it’s beautiful!” Brie cried walking up to the motorcycle and running Hope’s tiny hand over the studded black leather seat. “Doesn’t your dyadya have a pretty bike?”
Rytsar winked at Brie. “I’m glad you like it, radost moya.”
Sir studied the bike for a moment and then turned to face Rytsar. “Those gloves you got me…”
The Russian’s smile grew wider.
“They’re motorcycle gloves, aren’t they?”
“They are, moy droog.”
Sir looked back at the bike. “And this?”
“Is your present,” he proclaimed, slapping Sir hard on the back. “Merry Christmas!”
Shaking his head, Sir looked back at the motorcycle. “It’s a beauty, but I don’t know how to ride one.”
“Sit on the bike,” Rytsar insisted.
Sir gave him a half-grin as he mounted it and grabbed the handles.
“You look like a natural, moy droog.”
“I have to agree, Sir,” Brie said, getting all kinds of sexy vibes seeing him on the bike.
“Look how your woman approves,” Rytsar stated proudly.
“I can’t accept this. It’s too much,” Sir told him.
“Wait here,” Rytsar insisted.
As he headed into the house, Sir got off the bike and stood back to admire it. “I have to say he’s got good taste.”
“You really do look hot on that bike,” Brie confessed.
He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’m not going to let him give this to me. It’s way too much for a Christmas present.” Sir stood back, staring at the bike, and muttered, “What the hell was he thinking?”
Just then, the air filled with the deep rumbling of a motorcycle.
Brie squeaked when she saw Rytsar pull into the driveway on a candy apple red Harley that looked just like Sir’s.
Rytsar revved the engine once before shutting it off and getting off the bike. “I liked yours so much that I got one, too, brother.”
Sir laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“Just imagine the two of us on the road, your woman seated behind you with her arms around you as we explore the country together.”
“It does sound enticing, but I still can’t accept it.”
���Why not?” Rytsar frowned.
“It’s too much.”
“It would not be nearly as much fun for me to ride alone,” Rytsar stated. “This gift is as much for me as it is for you.”
Sir snorted.
Changing tactics, Rytsar turned to Brie. “Wouldn’t you like to ride with your man on this bike, radost moya?”
Even though Brie knew the answer Sir wanted her to give, she told Rytsar the truth. “That would be so hot!”
Rytsar shrugged, telling Sir, “Do you really want to disappoint your woman, moy droog?”
Sir shook his head. “The lengths you will go to…”
Rytsar dug into his pocket and pulled out the set of keys. “Accept my gift in the spirit it is given.”
Sir stared at the keys for a second before taking them.
Rytsar grinned. “I have a private lesson set up for you in two days’ time.”
“Why so soon?” Sir laughed.
Rytsar glanced at Brie with a seductive smile. “Because I’m going to give radost moya her gift during your first ride.”
Brie smiled, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what it might be.
The Gathering
After their visit with Rytsar, Brie and Sir went back home to put Hope down for a nap.
“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had, Sir. Between your morning presents to me and the gifts you and Rytsar gave each other, I can’t think of a more perfect day.
Sir wrapped an arm around her. “I agree, babygirl. Despite the memories the holiday evokes, I have enjoyed myself, and it has everything to do with you.”
Brie sighed in contentment. “Now to start on dinner. I want to spoil you, Sir. I bought everything for a traditional Christmas dinner.”
Sir smiled. “Is the turkey defrosted?”
She frowned. “No. I didn’t think to do that.”
“I’m not into all that holiday fare. A simple salad will suffice.”
Her jaw dropped. “We can’t eat a plain old salad on Christmas day! Maybe I could order a turkey dinner?”
“They would have been sold out weeks ago.”
She was completely crushed. “I really wanted to spoil you, especially after everything you’ve done for me.”
He shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter.”
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