Page 150 of Merry Fake Bride

She’s been a relatively quiet baby so far, which gave me all the time I needed to catch up on sleep after her eighteen-hour labor, not that I had to worry.

Kairo’s been doting on her since the moment she appeared.

Speaking of, he’s standing in the doorway when I open the door and when our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his handsome face.

“How are my girls?”

“One’s full of energy, the other…” I tilt my head and purse my lips. “She’s getting there.”

“Do you need a break?”

His brows pinch together and affection warms my heart at the little curl forming on his forehead. “Hosting Christmas is not easy.”

“No, it’s not. But I’m fine. I want to do this.”

Beyond Kairo, the dark hallway gives way to the warm orange glow radiating from the lounge.

We spent days decorating the penthouse to make it the epitome of Christmas spirit, as well as setting up the guest rooms for my parents and friends so that everyone can stay over.

Thankfully, Mom took over Christmas dinner, but I’ve been helping where I can while Kairo and Dad worked together to build a brand-new interactive, stimulating playset for Tilly.

Whatever that means. As long as it makes her laugh, that’s all I care about.

“You sure?” Kairo leans against the doorframe, one arm raised above him, and a spike of want shoots through my core. “Because my mom just got here.”

“Oh.”

Kairo’s relationship with his mother remains strained, but she’s trying.

New medication and intense therapy seem to be working, as well as our argument just after the New Year.

She visited and raised her hand to Kairo for the last time.

I’m not scared of a scandal, and I made it clear I’d have her prosecuted for the abuse she put him through and withhold visitation to her granddaughter unless she turned herself in to the police for assault.

She looked to Kairo as if expecting him to step in, but this time, he didn’t.

This time, I protected him.

Their relationship will never be perfect, but she’s making an effort, so inviting her to Christmas was a given.

“Do you think she’ll behave?” I ask softly, balancing Tilly in one arm and cupping his jaw with my other hand. “If it’s too much, I’ll ask her to leave. I don’t care if it’s Christmas.”

“I’m fine,” he assures me softly. “But I love that you care.”

“Of course I care. I loveyou.”

“I love you too. And you.” His eyes drop to Tilly, and she giggles and squeals as he kisses her, tickling her with his beard. “Let me?”

At his request, I pass Tilly into his thick arms where she looks infinitely smaller than she already is, and together, we head through to the lounge.

Merriment is high.

My mom and dad dance to Christmas tunes in the kitchen with wine in hand.

Martin lounges on the couch surrounded by a new blanket and his new girlfriend who knitted him a kidney to make up for the one he lost.

Faith is by the Christmas tree with two of her friends as they add their own homemade baubles to it.