Page 94 of Bad Boy for Hire

Emotion clogged her throat, gripped her stomach.

“Dad?”

The man smiled tentatively. Beyond her sloshing heartbeat, she heard Xavier invite her father inside. She had reached out to him exactly twice. Once in a text to let him know she had news, and a follow-up phone call where she’d shared he was going to be a grandfather. They’d ended that call by exchanging I love yous and then her father promised to visit soon.

She hadn’t believed him.

But here he was.

Xavier took the bouquet. Her father stood in the living room, still bundled in his coat, his posture awkward. His eyes searched the room briefly before landing on her.

“I wanted to surprise you,” came his hoarse confession. “I’m not dying or anything.”

She let out a small laugh. “That’s good news.”

“I want to start fresh. Like we talked about. I figured when better than Christmas. When better than when you’re about to have my grandchild.”

She felt many conflicting emotions when it came to him. After all, he’d left. But she still loved him. She’d grieved alone while he’d been consumed by his own grief. But her son or daughter deserved to know their grandfather. Before she lost her mother, he was a good man. A loving man.

“I lost my way.” In a rare moment of transparency, he let his true feelings show. Emotion snagged his next words. “I’m sorry, May. I don’t know what else to say.”

“That’s a great start.” She held herself in check, unsure what to do next. Then she reminded herself that she was the source of her stability. Her safety. Her power.

When he reached for her, she melted into him. Soaking in his presence, she rested her chin on one strong shoulder. At one point, he’d been her rock. Her eyes went to Xavier, who was standing a few feet away, arms folded, a knowing smile on his face. Her father wasn’t her only rock. She had Xavier. She had friends. She had herself.

Later that evening, after her father was settled in one of the guest bedrooms, she lay awake, her eyes on the ceiling. Next to her, Xavier watched her closely, waiting for her response. He’d asked if she was okay.

Was she?

She turned her head and met her husband-to-be’s eyes. In them she saw his love for her, and the promise of a future that blended their pasts—who they used to be with who they were becoming.

“I’m better than okay.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you for inviting him. It was a nice surprise.”

“I knew it was a risk, but I was taking my cues from you.” He smoothed a hand down her arm and clasped her hand. He kissed her fingers, holding them against his lips for a moment. “Merry Christmas, May. This is the good stuff.”

Tears swam in her eyes. And here she’d thought she was done crying for the evening. She couldn’t help herself. She was so grateful for everything that had happened—the unplanned mess of it. The tough moments had made moments like these even more beautiful.

“Merry Christmas, Xavier. The first of many.”

They kissed again.

May, her eyes on the skylight, watched as a cold winter rain began to peck the glass. Not snow, but somehow it was still perfect.

Just as it should have been.

She wouldn’t change a thing.