Page 1 of Maldives & Mistletoe

ONE

Lily and Damian

LILY

Holidays shouldn’t be stressful. Of that, Lily Rossi was most sure. They shouldn’t draw anxiety into a person’s heart beyond deciding which gift to buy for someone. A person should only have to worry about showing up on time to parties, eating good food, and relaxing.

Holidays should not involve packing luggage for two kids—two very rowdy toddler boys, as a matter of fact—one tired mother, and a father who looked like he was at the end of his rope.

“Why do you need all that?” Damian asked from the bedroom doorway.

Lily huffed, and blew a stray wave of her blonde hair out of her eye as she leaned over the suitcase, and tried her damnedest to squish the contents down just enough to finally—maybe, by the grace of God—get the top zipped. “Instead of opening your mouth to ask stupid questions,” she growled at her husband, “why don’t you get over here and help me close this?”

“Lily,” Damian returned calmly, “it’s going to be overweight.”

“So, we’ll pay the extra. What do you want me to do? You know how Joe and Cory are—they need all the clothes or they’ll have no fucking clothes.”

Because boys were messy.

And loud.

Plus, the boys needed their favorite toys. Things to keep them occupied on the plane, and off it. Kids also just had to travel with a lot of shit because they were kids and that’s how life treated parents. Like one big joke.

Haha, so funny.

Not to mention, if Lily didn’t remember to pack things for her husband, Damian would have nothing to wear because he didn’t give a shit. He would rather concern himself over what kind of food he was going to get on the plane rather than what he was going to wear when they got to the Maldives.

So yes, Lily had to pack a whole lot of crap for only a few people.

“Ma! Cory takes my toy! Ma!”

Lily grunted, and shook her head as she ignored the shout of her three-year-old coming from down the hall. Joe hated people in his space. Already, at his age, he just wanted to be left alone to do his own thing, and on his own time. If he wanted to join people or a party, then he would do that. But more often than not, Lily would find her son in a quiet space playing on his own.

It was just what he liked.

Joe reminded Lily a lot of his father in that way.

Cory, on the other hand?

Oh, that child was the complete opposite. He needed attention. Thrived on it, really. The two-year-old wanted to be the center of every person’s universe, and fuck you if you thought you were going to do as much as take a piss without him talking to you throughout the whole endeavor.

Lily loved her kids.

Loved them with her whole heart, to the ends of the earth and back … until she took her very last breath, and even then … she would keep on loving them.

But this motherhood thing?

This was no fucking joke.

It was not for the weak of heart, or those with queasy stomachs. Motherhood would chew up the weak, and spit them out the other side with messy hair, smudged makeup, and dried something on their shoulder before they even realized what happened.

Kids were like sharks in the water. They could smell your blood for the weakness it was. And when they smelled that … you were done for. There was no saving you from them.

“Ma!”

Damian sighed, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels just enough to stare down the hallway outside the bedroom. “Joe, you handle your brother. You know the rules. Get along, or don’t. But you handle it.”

“But—”