And I’m waiting for him to notice his gift.
“Well, one of you needs to say something,” Ruby says.
“Happy Christmas, Callie.” Gavin glances at the others. “And everyone else.”
I hand Ruby my phone, so overwhelmed with emotions I can’t identify which one is chief of them all. “Will you take our picture? This is the last thing on my bucket list.”
He says nothing about the stones, but I’ve given up on those anyway. I don’t need a hot Highlander from the seventeen hundreds. I have a hot Highlander right here.
“Oh, Gavin, did you do that for her?” Mom asks. “How sweet.”
I stand in front of the Christmas tree while Dad takes a seat on the couch beside Mom.
Gavin approaches me with a predatorial look in his eyes, and I swear I’ve never wished my parents were elsewhere so hard in my life. I put out my arm for him but he stops, his gaze snagging on the mantel. I follow it to his stocking and hold my breath.
The late night and uber early morning have culminated in this moment.
“You did this for me, didn’t you?” he says softly.
“No one should have to wake up without a stocking, Gavin.”
He runs his fingers over the poorly executed embroidery of his name. I did my best. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Nessa sewed the actual stocking, to be fair.” I shrug. “I just did the name.”
He shakes his head, and when he looks at me, I feel it to my toes. “This was you. All you.”
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, not trusting myself to speak any louder.
Gavin pulls me in for a hug and buries his head in my hair. We stand like this for a minute before I pull back and look at the couch to see everyone has disappeared.
“My family left.”
“I heard what they did,” he says.
“Manipulative.”
“I’m not angry.”
“I guess I’m not either.”
“Good.” He leans down to kiss me tenderly on the lips, his fingers grazing my jaw. “Now would you like to open your Christmas present?”
“Yes, I would. But let’s tell them it’s safe to come back now.”
Gavin laughs, kissing me again before releasing me to look in the kitchen for Ruby and my parents. A warm glow permeates my body, and I’m not sure how I became so fortunate, but I feel grateful for the direction this vacation has turned. And, okay, maybe I’m glad my sister was a little mischievous. She knows me better than almost anyone in the world. I should have known she would spot the perfect man for me.
When he returns with Mom, Dad, Ruby, and Poppy, he goes straight for the stairs and pulls something from the shadows.
When he holds it up, I squeal. “You finished the book?”
“Only the first draft. You’ll need to give me your notes.”
Gavin sits beside me on the sofa and hands over a sketchbook. I open it to the first page and see that he’s started over, redrawing the bird on the trees and coloring them in. The images are vibrant and adorable, cutesy in a way that’s perfect for a child’s picture book. They’re going to do well once they hit shelves next Christmas. This book will undoubtedly be a success.
The little bird notices the kids pulling the sled up the hill and hops along the branches to follow them, curious about what they’re doing. He reaches the top of the hill where he nears the children, deciding whether he wants to ask to join them.
But then another bird flies along and lands on the branch above him, dumping a pile of snow on his head. They meet and watch the children sled together, then decide they want to try.
