Page 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHRISTMAS WALTZ

EMMA

“ Y ou have to go in eventually,” Dad gently nudges me with his elbow. We’ve been sitting in the parking lot at the hotel for the last fifteen minutes while I muster the courage to walk into that ballroom. “Knock his socks off, Kid.”

That’s it. That’s Dad gently kicking me out of the car.

I gather my courage, and my skirt, and step out of the car and make my way slowly into the hotel. Leaving my coat to be hung up by a kind volunteer, I find myself at the edge of the ballroom, sticking to the shadows, watching as Alice and Mackenzie dance with Mr. Owens, and Jax skillfully dances with Mrs. Owens in the corner of the dance floor.

I’ve only ever seen pictures of Jax in uniform and can confidently say that the pictures do not do him justice. Even standing in a room filled with men and women in their dress uniforms, Jax stands out. I take a moment to admire the cut of his jacket and the expertly tailored line of his trousers. His face is clean shaven, which throws me for a minute because I’m so used to his neatly trimmed beard. But even with a close shave, I’d recognize him anywhere.

As the music drifts into three-quarter time, Jax’s steps change and Mrs. Owens follows him. Mr. Owens and the girls head to a table on the perimeter of the room while I approach the floor. Jax’s back is to me, and Mrs. Owens meets my gaze, a smile tugging at her lips as she does. When I’m a step away, I reach out my hand and rest it on his shoulder, and he stills immediately when Mrs. Owens makes a hasty retreat.

“May I cut in?” My voice wavers and my steps falter, breath hitching in my throat as Jax turns and I’m hit with the full force of his gaze.

“Emma,” he breathes and time stands still. “You’re here.”

I vaguely hear the music that fills the room, and notice a few pairs of eyes on us, the only two people on the dance floor that aren’t moving. Jax holds out his hand, and I slide my hand against the soft fabric of his glove, grateful for his steady presence and strong form as he settles his other hand at my waist and somehow we’re dancing. He leads with confidence in his steps and I follow, secure in his hold, and safely held in his arms.

“As soon as they realize you’re here, the girls are going to want to see you, my family too. Am I being selfish by wanting to keep you to myself for a little while?” His hand slips lower on my back as he pulls me closer. If anything, I’d like to be a little selfish tonight, too.

“Not at all.” Jax slows and I follow until we’re simply swaying on the dance floor, bodies pressed close together as he bundles me against him. “I spent the day with your family. They’ve seen me. I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.” Jax settles one hand at the nape of my neck and kisses me softly as the world around us melts away. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Staying in the guest room at your Mom and Dad’s,” I smile as he kisses me again, less gently this time, a firm press of his lips to mine.

“So you’re the reason I’m in The Bunk Bed Room again. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses me again, before turning us the other direction as if shielding me. “Let’s leave the girls with James and get out of here.”

“Jax, we’re not doing that,” I laugh. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Fine,” he groans, burying his face in my neck. The waltz fades out and the tempo picks up once again as Jax takes my hand. “I guess I can share you for a little while.”

I trail behind him to the table, and as soon as the girls see me they are out of their chairs, rushing toward me. I crouch down and catch them in my arms, holding them close as their arms wrap around me. Home. This feels like home. Here with these girls, their dad’s steady presence at my back. I’m home. This is where I belong. Not in this ballroom, wearing this fancy borrowed dress, no. Home is where Jax and these girls are.

When the girls let me go, Alice takes her dad’s hand and the two of them head out to the dance floor, but Mackenzie pulls away tears glimmering in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I gently thumb away her tears, “what’s wrong?”

“All I really wanted this Christmas was to have you spend it with us,” she says and I have to blink away tears of my own. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

I pull Mackenzie into my arms, and she melts into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I gently rub her back as she cries against my shoulder, overcome with emotion.

“I missed you,” she whispers. “When you’re home, it’s almost like having a mom.”

Home. I tighten my arms around her and press a soft kiss to the top of her head, too stunned for words. I think about the fort and the tuck-ins and the bedtime routines. I think of afternoons in the library after school and dinners around Jax’s table or mine and that feeling of home is wrapped up in all of it.

“Everything okay?” Jax’s voice is pitched low, his hand on my shoulder giving a gentle squeeze.

“We’re all good, aren’t we kiddo?” I pull away and Mackenzie and I both wipe our tears, smiling at each other as she tucks her hand into mine.

“All good,” she grins.

“Good, because I’d like to get a picture,” Jax tilts his head toward the door.

The four of us make our way out to the photographer, and Jax insists that the girls and I, in our matching green dresses, get a few pictures together before he joins us. The photographer comments on what a lovely family we are, and my heart swells as Jax draws me into his side, pressing a kiss to my cheek as the camera shutter clicks.

“Alright girls,” the photographer says, resetting her camera, “how about one with only your grown ups? What do you think, do you want to come behind the camera?”

The girls are eager to help set up the shot for me and Jax, and the photographer is great at distracting them so that Jax and I can have a moment. There’s no one else in line for pictures, so she lets us take our time, setting up, snapping shots as Jax and I situate ourselves in front of the backdrop, then sending the girls back into the shot.

I can’t wait to see how these turn out.

“Ready to go home?” Jax whispers in my ear before dropping a kiss on my cheek. “I called us a ride so James and Mandy can stay a bit longer.”

“Then let’s go home.”

A minivan pulls up outside the hotel, and Jax opens the passenger side door and helps me and my massive skirt into the seat beside our driver, Jake.

“Good to see you Emma,” Jake gives me a soft smile. “Awesome press conference last night. The game was good too, but you handled the post-game beautifully.”

“Thanks Jake, I appreciate that. And I really appreciate you and Penelope handling the network for me after that mess with my agent.”

“That was all Nell,” Jake beams with pride, “and she was more than happy to go to bat for you.”

As the girls give Jake a rundown of the evening’s events, I take the opportunity to close my eyes and enjoy the drive, knowing that in just a few minutes this feeling of peace is going to be yanked away by both of our families. I’m anxious for Jax to meet my parents, and hadn’t planned on it happening this abruptly. Once we get to the house, the girls race up the porch with Jake behind them as Jax offers me his arm and helps me navigate the snow with my dress gathered up away from the ground.

When we get to the door, Jax holds it open and I step inside, throwing him a nervous glance but rather than stopping him, prepping him, or even taking a chance to prepare myself, I wrap my arm around his waist, kiss his cheek, and walk confidently into the house with Jax right behind me.

When we reach the living room, the girls are already on the couch between my parents, telling them – presumably – about the party tonight. Mom and Dad are enraptured, and the girls are giddy with Christmas Eve magic on top of their usual enthusiasm and zest for life. Jax turns to me with wide eyes that soon give way to a sly smile. Pressing a hasty kiss to my cheek he leaves me in the kitchen before stepping into the family room and shaking hands with my dad.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, it is wonderful to finally meet you. Emma’s told me so much about you both,” Jax glances up, eyes meeting mine ever so briefly when Mom stands and hugs him. “She’s also told me that when she was a kid you’d dress her in costume for tours and I was hoping there might be pictures.”

In the morning, I wake to the smell of coffee drifting up from the kitchen below and without waking my sister, with whom I shared a bed last night, I make my way downstairs to find Jax and Jake in the kitchen, prepping food for breakfast.

“Merry Christmas,” I wrap my arms around Jax’s waist and press a kiss to his cheek. “Anything I can do to help?”

Jax turns in the circle of my arms and claims my lips with a kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiles. “Jake is the one in charge this morning, so ask him and he can put you to work.”

“I’ve got Dad’s orange cinnamon rolls ready for the oven,” Jake tells me, “I’ve got Jax getting fruit ready, if you’d like to do the breakfast casserole.”

“I think I can handle breakfast casserole.” I give Jake a mock salute as he hands me the recipe I’ll be using, a knife, cutting board, and vegetables to dice. The three of us work side by side, getting a meal ready for our families, as the rest of the house slowly wakes up.

Soon, everyone is awake and the house is filled with laughter and music, and the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and smoky bacon; Mackenzie, Alice, and Leigh perch themselves at the kitchen island with plates filled with cinnamon rolls and fruit, and mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. The grown ups fill our plates and find open seats wherever we can, scattered around the house enjoying our food and each other’s company.

Amanda and I help Jake with the breakfast dishes, and as we’re wrapping up, the soft strains of acoustic guitar float from the living room, and with it a familiar voice. Soon, other voices join in, singing familiar Christmas carols together. Jenna told me that Jax was the best caroler, but she undersold how smooth and melodic his voice is, and as he bends over his guitar, a smile on his face, I am overwhelmed at the joy that fills the room. When the song ends, Jax passes the guitar to his dad who takes over.

Sitting on the floor in front of my mom with Alice and Mackenzie tucked against my side, Jax drops to the floor beside me, draping an arm around my shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. Soon, stockings are passed around to those who have them, and one is placed in my lap – it’s hand-knit, just like the others, my name carefully sewn across the top.

“How…?” I ask, confused and overwhelmed with emotion all at once. “I didn’t even know I’d be here until last night.”

“I asked Mom to make you one after Thanksgiving,” Jax wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. “I guess I was just hopeful.”

After stockings have been unstuffed, the girls open a few gifts from their grandparents, and lunch is laid out, nothing extravagant, mostly finger foods that can be snacked on while playing board games or just hanging out around the house. I find myself seated at a table with Jax, Marcus, and Penelope, playing a rather intense island settlement game that James and Jenna are apparently not allowed to play anymore.

As the game comes to an end and people start drifting off to watch a movie or take naps, I find myself alone in the kitchen with Jax. Watching from my perch at the kitchen island, my hands wrapped around a mug of Ben’s hot chocolate, as Jax kneads bread dough, his strong hands and muscular forearms flexing as he skillfully works the dough on the surface of the island.

“How are you doing?” Jax asks, eyes meeting mine over his black framed glasses. “I know you haven’t had any time to yourself in a while.”

“I’m okay. Everything is a little overwhelming,” for the first time in a long time, the familiar feeling of shame that comes with conversations like this is blessedly absent. “But quiet moments like this make it worth it. And knowing that you’d understand if I went upstairs and laid on the bed for ten minutes in total silence helps a bit too.”

“I’m game if that’s what you want to do,” he winks, forming the dough into a ball and dropping it into an oiled bowl to rise. “Or, if you’d like, I can sneak you out of here.”

“No, thank you. But you’re sweet to offer.”

Once the dough is rising, Jax cleans up and steps around to my side of the island, stepping between my knees and drawing me into his chest, arms wrapping around me, more comforting and secure than any weighted blanket. Wrapping my arms around him, I sink into the warmth of his embrace and sigh, content to be held in his arms.

One week later, on New Year’s Eve, I step into the kitchen and take a peek into the oven, satisfied that the sugar cookies are baked beautifully golden and not burned. After the cookies cool, I decorate them and get ready to head over to Jax’s house for the night.

A week ago, my family and the Hutchinson family gathered to celebrate Christmas, and as much fun as that was, I’m looking forward to a more low-key affair tonight with just Jax and the girls. I’ve spent the past week following the game, and my retirement announcement, fielding media requests and phone calls, and dealing with the fallout of splitting off from my agent. Scott has painted a picture of me in the press as an ungrateful athlete, and while I’d like to defend myself, my reputation speaks for itself, and frankly Scott doesn’t deserve the time of day from me. Not anymore.

Penelope and Molly have helped me work on an official statement that covers all of my bases, and I finalized it today, closing the book on that chapter of my life for good. A chapter that I loved while I was in it, but one that I’m not going to miss, something that is confirmed when I walk into Jax’s house and am immediately greeted with hugs from the girls, and a kiss on the cheek from Jax as I join him in the kitchen.

“Sorry,” I drop off my cookies on the kitchen island, heat flooding my cheeks. “I’m early.”

“Never apologize for letting us spend more time with you,” Jax takes me in his arms, holding on tight. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here.” I’m also a little nervous. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. If this past week – really, these past six months – has shown me anything, it’s that I want to be a part of Jax’s life in a more…permanent way. And being a part of Jax’s life means being a part of his daughters’ lives, too. There are conversations that Jax and I still have to have, and I don’t necessarily want to do that tonight, but I at least want him to know how I’m feeling. What I’m thinking.

“Want to help me with dinner?” Jax asks, pulling back but still keeping me in his arms. “We’re doing tacos.”

“Sure. What can I do to help?”

Jax hands me a knife and cutting board, and I work on lettuce, tomatoes, and onions for our tacos while he browns and seasons the meat in the cast iron pan on his stove. Alice and Mackenzie get tortillas, cheese, and sour cream from the fridge, and soon we have the spread ready on the counter.

With plates piled with tacos and chips with homemade salsa, the four of us gather around the dining room table, and not for the first time I think about what life would look like if we did this every night. If I could be a part of this. After dinner, I help Jax wash the dishes and put away leftovers while the girls change into their pajamas and pick a movie for us to watch before watching the televised New Year’s Eve celebrations.

“What are you looking forward to in the new year?” Jax asks, dropping onto the couch beside me as the girls carefully unpack their blanket fort basket and start setting it up all on their own.

“More of this,” I lay my head on his shoulder, drawing my legs up onto the couch as the girls wall us in with the blanket fort. “More of you.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Jax kisses me before relocating the two of us to the floor in front of the couch, the girls stretched out in front of us. “I think I can get on board with that plan.”

After the movie, Jax pops popcorn and I change into comfy clothes that I pilfer from his closet before we settle back into the fort with Mackenzie and Alice nestled between us. We watch the New Year’s Eve celebration on television and as I think about the past year, the past several years if I’m honest, I think about the year ahead. My future with Jax and the girls. There’s so much that I want to say, so much that I’ve wanted to say all night but I’ve been scared.

Do it scared.

So much of what I’ve done in the last six months I’ve done because of Jax’s insistence that we do the things that scare us, and don’t wait to stop being scared.

So I’m going to do it scared.

“I know I told you before I left for LA that I wasn’t asking you for forever….but Jax…” I take a deep breath, the words playing over in my brain. Words that I’ve rehearsed more times than I can count before I showed up on his doorstep tonight. My breath hitches in my throat and tears sting the back of my eyes as I finally coax the words out. Letting them hang between us. “Forever is exactly what I want. With you. With them.”

The girls are sound asleep on the floor between us, twinkle lights casting a soft glow on their sleeping faces. All the times I thought about asking him, I never imagined that it would be in the blanket fort with the girls between us, but this is perfect. For us, anyway.

“Emma…” Jax’s eyes dance with anticipation, his arm stretching across the couch, hand curling against my neck and drawing me closer. “What are you asking?”

“If you’ll marry me.”

Jax crushes his lips to mine, fingers threading into my hair as he deepens the kiss.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, breaking the kiss and pressing my forehead to his.

“Yeah Emma, it is.” He laughs and kisses me again, wrapping me in his arms as best he can with the girls in between us. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jax.”