Waverly

December—one (ish) year later...

“B ABY, IT’S ON!” I called.

Gio came into the living room, a bottle of Jim beam and four shot glasses in his hand.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

He settled himself on the sofa. “Every time someone says, small town or take over some farm, or welcome home from the big city, we take a shot,” he said, explaining the rules of Drunken Holiday Movie Bingo.

“We’ll be hammered by the first commercial.” I snorted. “The trailer alone could cause you to need a twelve-step program.”

“Ah, you’ve seen this one, then?”

“No, but you know they’re all the same. It’s what I love about them.”

“Wait for us,” Lennon ordered, Snarl following from the back of our brand-new home in Ridgefield.

So much had happened in the past year or so, it didn’t seem real. Lennon was home and working her dream job at the Denver Zoo, Snarl was no longer a NOMAD, now permanently with the Primal Howlers’ Monument chapter, and he and Lennon had purchased a home just outside Denver and she was pregnant with their first child.

“Lennon can’t do shots, honey,” I reminded him.

“I got her juice,” he said, pointing to the bottle of lemonade next to the hooch.

Lennon and Snarl were staying for the next two weeks, which meant I got her for Christmas. An absolute dream for me. Her beloved granny passed away in July which had been a blow for both of us, and Gio and I flew out to Denver to be with her while she grieved.

That had been the first time I’d met Granger ‘Snarl’ Cane, a giant beast of a man with the softest, gentlest way about him, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with him.

Platonically of course.

Lennon and I made a pact right then and there that we’d go no longer than six months without seeing each other in person and big holidays would be at one house or the other. Thanksgiving had been at hers, so now, I got her and Snarl for Christmas.

Gio and I had bought a beautiful piece of property out in Ridgefield, close to the new compound they were building, with river views and enough room to accommodate a large family, which we planned to start in the next year or two. We both wanted tons of kids, but for now we were happy enjoying each other and our life together.

All was quiet on the Spiders’ front, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last. I just had a feeling something was coming, but Gio wasn’t spilling, and I had decided living in plausible deniability suited me just fine.

At least for the moment.

Tonight, however, was for my family. And Lennon was my family.

“Shot!” Gio shouted.

“Shit, already?” I complained. “We’re six minutes in.”

“Christmas tree farm,” Snarl said.

I grinned, taking the shot and scrunching up my face. “Woo!”

“Who wants pie?” Lennon asked. “We need something in our stomachs to absorb all this.”

“Speak for yourself,” I sassed.

“Okay, you need something,” she corrected.

I’d made my blueberry, raspberry, and blackberry pie, which Gio had nicknamed ‘Fizzleberry pie,’ and requested it on the regular. It was my grandmother’s recipe and his favorite, having eked out my apple pie the second I’d made it.

“I’ll take two pieces,” Gio said .

“I’ll take three,” Snarl countered.

“I’m glad I made two pies,” I said, snuggling against my man.

“Me too, baby.”

As we laughed, another shot was called, which we took while Lennon served dessert.

I couldn’t stop a grin as our night got fuzzier, and funnier.

Life was perfect.