At a red light, Alix snuck another look at her. Grace was watching the lights, eyes wide, the reflection of festivity moving over her face. She looked like someone caught mid-wish.
And just when the moment tipped from sweet to something heavier — something that might’ve ended in another kiss — a voice from the back seat shattered the spell.
“So, hey,” Matt said, leaning forward between them. “Two things. Can we turn down the heat? And then can we hit that house off Mulberry with the synchronized light show? The one that has the radio station?”
Alix startled so hard her foot slipped from the brake and the truck lurched for a moment. “Sweet baby Jesus, Matt, I almost forgot you were back there.” She held a hand to her chest.
“Yeah,” Grace said, clutching her cup and trying not to laugh. “Me too.”
In the rearview mirror, Matt gave an unimpressed frown, flanked by Bobbi and Whitney, who were both silent and wearing identical beanies that read LET IT SNOW. They stared straight ahead, serene and unbothered, each holding a thermos like they were part of some small-town caroling cult.
“Are they okay?” Grace whispered, leaning toward Alix.
“They’re fine,” Alix whispered back. “I’m pretty sure they’re telepathic.”
“Mm-hmm,” Matt said from the back. “We canallhear you.”
Grace bit her lip to stifle a laugh, squeezing Alix’s hand again.
Alix smiled, eyes on the glowing road ahead.
Outside, the next house came into view — a two-story blaze of synchronized lights flickering perfectly to the beat of “Snowed In With You.”
Snowed in with you, nothing else to do, but love you till the morning comes.
The firelight’s low, the world’s in the snow, and time forgets what it was.
“I’ve always loved this song,” Grace admitted. “I know it’s so popular, but I think it might be my favorite.”
“Mine too, actually,” Alix said. She leaned into Grace’s shoulder, and for a moment, even with Matt’s running commentary and the twins’ unnerving silence, it felt like the happiest kind of weird.
Alix used to leap out of bed as a kid on Christmas morning, desperate to see what Santa brought. She and Matt would wake up before dawn some years, bouncing with excitement from their assigned places on the couch designated to keep them away from ripping into every present immediately.
This year was even better. She woke to Grace’s arm draped over herwaist, the pale morning light seeping through the curtains, and the faint sound of people downstairs. For a few precious seconds, she didn’t move. She just breathed, slow and quiet, and listened to the small sounds Grace made in her sleep. A sigh. A shift of the blanket. The brush of her toes against Alix’s shin.
The late-night arrival of Grace’s luggage felt like a fever dream. She’d called it a Christmas miracle, hugging the suitcase like a lost family member, and then they’d both stayed up too late talking and laughing in the glow of the fireplace until they’d finally crawled into bed, fully clothed, too tired to think about boundaries or implications.
Now, with the world hushed and wrapped in snow, Alix leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Grace’s forehead. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.
Grace’s eyes opened slowly, warm and a little blurry with sleep. “Merry Christmas,” she echoed, her voice gravelly. She pressed her mouth to Alix’s, tightly closed. “Sorry, I have morning breath.”
Alix smirked. “Yeah, but I’m counting on the peppermint schnapps we drank last night to even it out.”
Grace laughed, low and quiet, and stretched, her leg brushing against Alix’s. “Scientific method at its finest.”
“Obviously.”
Grace snorted. “That’s not how that works.”
For a beat, neither moved. Then Grace shifted closer, nose brushing Alix’s cheek, her breath warm against her skin. Themoment thickened, the air heavy with the kind of quiet that hummed. Grace’s hand slid from Alix’s waist to her hip, fingertips curling through the fabric of her shirt. Alix’s pulse kicked. She could feel Grace’s heartbeat, fast and sure, syncing with her own.
“I think everyone’s downstairs,” Alix murmured, her voice unsteady in the best way. “If we wanted to, you know, take a moment to…”
Grace’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Trust me, I do want that,” she said, and then added, too sweetly, “but I have the perfect presents for everyone. I am not missing Christmas morning just to get laid.”
Alix gasped in mock horror. “Wow. Romance really is dead.”
Grace laughed, low and warm. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”
