Page 33

The scent of cinnamon rolls and pine filled the air, and not even the mild chaos of the morning could dent my mood. For once, I wasn’t obsessing over the timing of the oven. Or the guest list. Or the fact that Carol was now officially twenty-three minutes late.

I noticed. Of course I noticed.

But I didn’t care.

Or at least, not enough to say anything. That was progress. Right?

"Do you want me to text her again?" Patrick called from the kitchen, already wearing the world’s most ridiculous apron— Here comes Santa , because of course—and balancing a tray of hot cider in one hand. I smiled from my place on the couch, a plaid throw wrapped around my legs. “Nope. She’ll be here.”

He gave me a look, and I knew he was testing the waters. The Old Me would’ve had a backup plan, a backup to the backup plan, and at least two laminated spreadsheets. The New Me?

Was still kind of twitchy. But I was trying.

And it helped that Patrick, my husband— God, I loved that word —was watching me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, setting the tray down and coming over to drop a kiss to my temple. “Because if you say the word, I’ll call her and guilt-trip her with a dramatic story about Christmas cheer and cinnamon deprivation.”

I laughed softly, tipping my head toward him. “It’s fine. Really.”

He gave me one more once-over, then nodded and walked back toward the kitchen. I watched him go, still amazed sometimes that I got to keep this one. That after all the mess and heartbreak, after all the drama and dancing around each other, we’d found our way back. And we’d built this— together.

The house was done. Our house.

With its fireplace between the bedroom and bathroom.

The kitchen with double ovens, the wraparound porch where Thorne liked to sit in bear form and grumble at the wind.

Our dream home. Built not just from blueprints, but from years of wanting and learning and forgiving.

I looked around the living room— twinkling lights on the tree, mismatched ornaments, presents tucked underneath the tree, lovingly wrapped.

The smell of cookies, and fresh wood, and Patrick’s cedar soap still lingering in the air. This was it. Peace.

The door burst open, breaking the moment. "Don't yell at me for being late," Carol shouted before even stepping over the threshold. “Some idiot didn’t salt the driveway, and I slipped, and the only thing that broke my fall was a literal reindeer statue with a bell on its tail—don’t ask.”

Patrick popped his head out of the kitchen. “Did you break it?”

“The reindeer or my ass?”

“Yes,” we both said in unison.

Carol groaned, kicked off her boots, and walked in with cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Hot cider?" Patrick offered.

“If there isn’t rum in it, I’m leaving.”

I snorted into my blanket. “You’re not even wearing your giant puffer coat of doom. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine ,” she said pointedly, then pulled a tiny piece of mistletoe from her pocket and held it up with two fingers. “But I am going to hang this thing. Somewhere strategic.”

Patrick laughed. “Please not above the coat closet.”

“Oh, I have much better plans.” Her eyes sparkled dangerously. “Now where’s that bear of yours?”

As if summoned, Thorne rumbled deep in Patrick’s chest. She brought more donuts, didn’t she?

I grinned. “You’re getting predictable.”

She smells like sugar and chaos. I like her.

Patrick kissed my temple again. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. McCloud.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. McCloud.”

I leaned into him, heart full, eyes a little misty, and whispered, “We did it. We made it through the crazy.”

He smiled against my hair. “Yeah. And we’ve got forever to enjoy the quiet. Well... mostly quiet.”

From the foyer, Carol shouted, “Where is the damned ladder?!”

Patrick chuckled. “She's on a mission, isn't she?”

I nodded and snuggled deeper into his side. “Let her hang it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Thorne sighed. Famous last words.

"We don't have one, use the footstool," Patrick advised, then rightened himself. "The other guests should arrive soon."

And just like that, the chaos of our life rolled on… but this time, I was ready for it. Because I wasn’t facing it alone.

Not anymore.

THE END

Thank you so much for reading Monsters, Vows & Growls !