“Yes, it is,” I say, stating the obvious.
“It’s a cop movie,” he counters, scowling.
“It’s a Christmas movie with cops and bad guys. It’s set at a Christmas party and they replay it every year at Christmas. Just likeThe GrinchandIt’s a Wonderful Life.Because it’s a Christmas movie.”
Beau shakes his head. “It’s not a Christmas movie.”
I gasp. “Oh my God. Your mom’s celebrity crush was one of the bad guys.” My chest heaves with excitement. “Karl. The blond one. He was Russian.”
His brows lower. “Yes.”
“HE’S MY FAVORITE BAD GUY IN MY FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE!”
“It’s not a Christmas movie.” He’s trying so hard not to laugh, but his whole body quakes. I love him so much.
“Do you know what this means? It’s destiny. You were named after my favorite bad guy inDie Hard—”
“No.Die Hardcame out after I was born. I was named after a dancer—”
“And we’ll get to watch it every year at Christmas. It’ll be a family tradition. And we’ll name our first son Karl and our first daughter McClain and—”
Laughing full force, Beau’s mouth covers mine. We kiss and kiss. All the while, he shakes his head.
“We’re not naming our children afterDie Hardcharacters,” he mutters between kisses.
I nip his lower lip. “We’ll see.” But I’m doing cartwheels on the inside because he just saidour children.
“God, I missed you,” Beau whispers in my ear, wrapping me in his arms and squeezing tight. “I think I forgot how to laugh after you left.”
I claim his lips with mine. Gently. Softly. “I’m glad I could help you remember.”
He deepens the kiss, pressing his erection harder against my belly. “Anything else you’d like to help me remember?” His voice goes husky with desire.
I roll my hips, and we both moan. “Seems like you have a pretty good memory.”
“Good memories,” he whispers. “Let’s make some more.”
“Okay.”
So we do.
Epilogue
BEAU
DECEMBER, THE FOLLOWING YEAR
“It’s almost time.Are you nervous?” I whisper.
Iris’s lashes flutter as she looks up at me. “Of course I’m nervous.”
I try to hold back my grin, but I think that just makes it come out crooked. “Why?”
“Beau, you know how I feel about this.” She gives me a little accusatory frown.
“But when I asked you if you wanted to do it, you said yes,” I tease.
“That was months ago.”
