Page 131 of The Holiday Makeover

The kiss started soft, almost reverent, but it didn’t stay that way. His arm tightened around me, and my fingers slid into his hair as the glow of the tree lights faded behind my closed eyes. It felt like every Christmas wish I’d ever made.

As he pulled me closer, all I could think was that this was the best makeover ever.

Epilogue

Tate

One Year Later

“Oh my gosh, my husband looks so sexy in high definition.” Rory snuggled up to me on the bed.

I pulled her even closer, never able to get enough of her.

She rested her head on my bare chest, her hair spilling across my skin, and I breathed her in.

I was home.

I’d finally convinced her it was okay if we redecorated Coco’s room and made the master bedroom ours. She’d done just that. Everything in the room felt like her—from the linen curtains and the warm paint to the vintage dresser she’d refused to get rid of and the framed family photos that still made her smile and cry in equal measure.

My contribution? The huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

“The goal for this nursery was to make it feel calm, warm, and lived in—not like a showroom. Babies don’t care if a room photographs well, but parents care if they can find wipes at three in the morning,” I heard myself say from the screen.

For the TODAY show.

Yep.

The previous network had released me from my contract. It hadn’t been a surprise, and it had stung less than I’d thought it would.

Probably because, for once in my life, losing something didn’t feel like losing myself. Besides, I’d had more than one offer to choose from. This one felt right.

It allowed me to be home the most. And yes, it fed my love of the spotlight now and then. I was still me, after all.

But honestly? I found I craved it less and less.

Rory was the best cheering section around.

“I wanted the room to grow with her,” TV me said. “Right now this wall features the crib, but the built-ins and window seat can stay with her for years. Eventually, the changing table can become a dresser, and the toy baskets can become storage for other things. I have a feeling this little girl will want options and probably have very strong opinions, especially if she takes after her mother.”

“You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes,” Rory giggled.

“I thought it was funny.”

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned.

I let my hand drift down the silky fabric of her nightgown, thinking that the TODAY show had waited this long to air. It could wait a little longer for my full attention.

“This window seat was nonnegotiable,” TV me continued. “The designer on this project—also known as my wife—believes every child deserves a place to curl up with a book. She added a lot of the softer details—the curtains, the pillows, the wallpaper, the little vintage pieces. She’s better at giving a room some soul. I can build the bones, but she’s the one who makes it feel like home.”

“Okay, that is the sweetest.” Rory tipped her face up toward mine. “And I love that I get to work with you sometimes behind the scenes.”

I loved that too.

I had missed working with Rory. Missed the way she saw things I didn’t, the way she could walk into a room and somehow know exactly what it wanted to become. But this time, I wasn’t trying to turn us into a show or prove anything to anyone.

This time, I just got to build something with my wife.

And every now and then, brag about her on national television.