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Chapter thirty-seven

It’s not that kind of jewelry box

Jake

T he house is peaceful now. The kids are asleep after a sugar-fueled, joy-packed day. I’m sprawled on the sofa, legs stretched out and Charlie curled up against my chest. We’ve got glasses of wine on the coffee table, and the only sounds are the crackling fire and the distant hum of the wind outside.

“You’re gonna have to peel me off this sofa,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I think I’ve consumed more sugar today than the kids.”

“I saw you sneaking Christmas cookies earlier,” Charlie chuckles, her fingers tracing patterns over my chest. “Don’t think I won’t use that to blackmail you with the Storm’s nutritionist.”

I squeeze her closer. “Can’t prove anything. Besides, I wasn’t the one belting out Mariah Carey like it was my last concert on earth.”

She groans, hiding her face in my chest. “Stupid champagne. I must’ve looked ridiculous.”

“You did,” I agree with a chuckle. “But I love seeing you like that. So happy, not caring that you definitely weren’t hitting those high notes.”

She swats me, but there’s a softness in her smile. These quiet moments, so completely easy and real, make me realize how much I love her.

After a while, I glance at the gifts on the coffee table that haven’t been opened yet.

“Hey,” I say softly, reaching for one. “We’ve got one last Christmas tradition to get to. ”

She sits up as I pull the small jewellery box over. Her eyes widen a little, and I see a flicker of surprise, maybe a hint of nerves. I know what she’s thinking.

“Whoa there, tiger,” I say with a wink. “It’s not that kinda box.”

She smirks, nudging me with her elbow. “I wasn’t thinking… that.”

“Sure you weren’t.” I hand her the box. “Open it.”

Her fingers brush against mine as she takes it, and for a moment I just watch her—soak in everything I feel for this woman, this family we’re creating.

Charlie lifts the lid carefully, revealing a delicate gold lightning bolt necklace with tiny diamonds embedded in the design.

“Jake…”

“I thought it suited you,” I say. “Strong. Electric. Lady Lightning.”

She stares at it for a moment, then back at me, a soft smile curving her lips. “It’s perfect.”

“You are,” I murmur back.

I lift the necklace from the box, moving her hair aside to clasp it around her neck, grazing a soft kiss to her jaw. It rests just below her collarbone, catching the firelight.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening.

I lean down and kiss her, tasting the faint sweetness of the wine on her lips. It’s a soft kiss, the kind that settles deep in my chest. “Merry Christmas, Charlie girl.”

“Best Christmas ever,” she says, touching her new necklace as it sparkles. “Thank God it’s not a ring.”

I smirk, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. “Easy, Lady Lightning. Let me enjoy the moment.”

She laughs, relaxing into me, and new feeling rushes over me. A sense of belonging; of permanence. Something I never had growing up.

As she turns in my arms, our eyes meet, and I feel it again—like every wall I’ve ever put up has crumbled. I’m giving her every ounce of my heart, hoping she’ll protect it as fiercely as I do hers. It’s vulnerable as fuck, but instead of turning to run, I’m thanking her for the privilege.

“So you thought it was a ring, huh?” I tease, brushing her hair from her face.

Ch arlie rolls her eyes, her lips twitching. “Maybe just for a second.”

I laugh, but inside, the thought lingers. A ring, a future. Kids—more kids. That used to scare the hell out of me, but now it’s something I want more than anything. Only with her.

“Well, Mr. NHL Superstar, it’s your turn.” She grabs her own gift from the coffee table and hands it to me.

I tear the paper carefully, revealing a leather-bound notebook. It’s sleek and polished, the leather soft under my fingers. I flip through the blank pages, imagining the thoughts and ideas I’ll jot down in the months to come.

“I’ve noticed you always have one around,” she says quietly. “Thought you might need a fresh one for the new year.”

She doesn’t know it, but my notebook is more than just a place for hockey plays and strategy. It’s where I’ve written every thought I’ve had about her since she crashed back into my life.

It’s where I’ve drawn little stars for every fleeting moment I’ve thought about her, the kids, about this life we’re building. The fact that she noticed this, and didn’t push me to share it—it’s everything.

I look up at her. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She just smiles softly, fingertips running over my jaw.

I set the notebook aside and pull her onto my lap, holding her close. The warmth of her against me, the way she fits perfectly in my arms—I'm home. For a moment, neither of us says anything. We just sit there, the fire crackling softly, the warmth of the room wrapping around us.

“You’re it for me, Charlie,” I whisper against her ear. “I hope you know that.”

She presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, her lips trailing across my skin. “You’re it for me, too,” she whispers back.

The kiss that follows starts slow, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Her hands slide up my chest, and I feel her body pressing closer, everything in me lighting up.

“Think you’ve had enough Christmas spirit for the day?”

“Enough? Sweetheart, I’ve got enough Christmas spirit to last all night.”

Before she can respond, I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder. She yelps, laughing as I give her a ss a playful smack.

“Jake!”

I carry her toward the stairs, her body wriggling in my arms. Every step feels like I’m walking toward something more permanent, something I want to hold onto for the rest of my life.

“Let’s go, Lady Lightning.” I playfully bite her side as we head upstairs. “Time for bed.”