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Fuck me, my cheeks hurt. I loved this kid. This man. All of them.
“It’s for ambiance,” I explained.
“Ambiance?”
“Like… the vibes,” I said with a shrug. “Personally, I hate mornings, so waking up to food and coffee already made for me is pretty special.”
“Hmm. Yeah. I like when Daddy makes cinnamon rolls. But they’re too sticky to eat in bed. That would get messy, and just—no fucking thank you.”
To my relief, Ollie laughed at the same time I did, both of us shaking our heads. But his eyes stayed on me when he said, “Very good to know.”
“Whatcha doin’?” Beau’s little voice cut through the tablecloth seconds before his head popped underneath it, knocking a few plates across the top in the process. Ollie and I both scrambled to lift the fabric from his forehead.
“We’ve been discovered,” I whispered to Tillie, who scowled at her brother.
“Having family time,” she snapped, completely unaware that her words hit me square in the sternum.
“Welp. I’m family. Why ‘m I not in here?”
“Cause you’re a boy,” she pointed out.
“So is Daddy.”
“Yeah, but that’sDaddy.”
I gave her a warning pinch on the arm, shooting her a look. She huffed. “Fine. Come in.”
I opened an arm, and Beau grinned before dramatically crawling over me to nestle in tight. Somewhere beyond our little haven, Noel and Brexley were laughing, my sisters were arguing over Santa’s cookie-to-carrot ratio, and Kaia was calling my name. But when Ollie slipped his hand into mine where Tillie couldn’t see, I didn’t care enough to holler back.
With a lion-sized yawn, Beau declared, “We have a very good family.”
“The best,” Tillie agreed.
Ollie just squeezed my fingers—like he knew. Like he knew those tiny voices saying those words had my chest clenching. Like he knew how badly I’d needed to hear them to believe it.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said softly. “We sure do.”
* * *
A few hours later,I had a cookie-drunk Beau passed out on my shoulder while Ollie carried his unicorn-clad daughter to the car. A little drool spot on his red sweatshirt told me she was truly zonked. By the time I’d gotten Beau transferred into his seat and buckled, I turned to find Ollie leaning against the car beside me.
“Merry Christmas, Ollie.”
“Merry Christmas, Trouble.”
Fuck me, that man could kill me with a smile like that. His fingers grazed the lowest stretch of my belly, eyes dipping to where new life quietly stirred.
“Merry Christmas, little one.”
“It’s like you’re trying to see how many times you can make me cry today.”
He chuckled, then leaned in—closing my door and pressing me back against it. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never cry again, Leigh.”
“Tall order, sir. These hormones are brutal.”
“Then let’s say this—no tears because of me. Unless they’re happy. Or naughty. Those are allowed.”
“Naughty tears, huh?” I tried to sound flippant, but nerves prickled in my chest. Not when I kissed him at a party. Not when we slept together. But now—here—I was nervous.