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Chapter8
Three yearslater
The scentof my mother-in-law’s famous Christmas morning cinnamon rolls filled the kitchen.The spicy sugar smell reminded me of that first holiday I spent with Gareth, Brenda, and Ryan where, for the first time ever, I felt like I belonged with a family.I was a part of something.
“Merry Christmas.”Strong arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me against a familiar hard chest.Soft lips nuzzled my neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh.“Mmmm, you smell good enough to eat.”
I pivoted in Gareth’s arms, pulling him down for a kiss.“Merry Christmas to you, too,” I murmured against him.
“You snuck some of the icing, didn’t you?”He chuckled.
I pulled back, trying to project an innocent expression, but obviously failing, since he shook his head.
“That’s not fair.We’re supposed to share.I guess I’ll have to taste it another way.”He claimed my lips again, his tongue sweeping inside to gather up the sweet sugary goodness.
“You guys are always kissing,” a voice interrupted us.
Gareth and I separated only slightly and glanced down to find eight-year-old Chloe standing inside the kitchen with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.It quickly dissolved into a full-blown smile and she closed the distance between us, wrapping her arms around both our waists.She loved giving us a hard time about how much affection we showed each other, but she told me once how much she secretly loved it.Because we showered her with just as much.
“Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad,” she said against our stomachs, her face buried between us.
I cradled her head, smoothing her baby-fine hair the same color as her father’s.“Merry Christmas, Chloe, love.”
She pulled away and glanced around.“When are the cinnamon rolls going to be ready?I’m starving.”
Gareth bent and kissed the top of her head.“Why don’t you go wake up your brother, first?Then we’ll talk breakfast.”
Chloe cocked her hip as only a sassy spitfire could—I needed to have a talk with Auntie Bridget about what she was teaching my daughter—and planted a fist against her waist.“You do know he’s already up, right?I passed him on my way in here.He was crawling around under the tree shaking half the presents trying to guess what was inside all of them.”
“What?”I screeched.“Why didn’t you try and stop him?”
I called the last question over my shoulder, because I’d already dashed toward the living room.
“Are you kidding?Haveyoutried stopping that holy terror when he’s on a mission?”Chloe hollered after me.
She wasn’t wrong.I snorted.Grant may have been almost three, but my god, he kept Gareth and I on our toes.Boys are so much easier than girls, they said.Those people didn’t have my child.
I stumbled to a halt at the sight before me.
Sure enough, Grant sat next to the tree with a half-unwrapped gift in his lap and the bow stuck to the top of his head.He looked up at me with a mischievous grin.“Presents from Santa, Mama.”
Gareth came alongside me and chuckled before crossing the room to swoop up our wild child, the gift tumbling onto the floor.
Chloe moved to my other side.“See, Mom?That’s what I’m talking about,” she said with a disgruntled tone.“I was an angel.”
“All right, young man, no more presents until after we eat breakfast,” Gareth told Grant, plucking the bow off his head.
The two of them joined Chloe and me and then my little family headed back into the kitchen for our own Christmas morning tradition.My angel.My devil.My love.
Two hours later,the four of us were sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by pillows, with the sounds of cheery carols pouring out of the surround-sound system.The twinkling lights on the tree blinked off and on with a soft, ambient white glow.The single star tree-topper shone bright.Wrapping paper lay scattered all around us in a chaotic, and wonderful mess.
Chloe sat cross-legged, already reading her latest book in her favorite series while Grant crawled around with his giant red fire truck, crashing it into every piece of furniture.His siren noises grew louder with each passing second.His sister glanced up every once in a while and glared at him before turning her attention back to her book.
I curled up against Gareth, watching my children do what they did best.Love swelled in my chest and tears of joy filled my eyes.“We made the most beautiful babies, didn’t we?”I whispered to him.
He pulled me tighter against him and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.“We surely did.”
I shifted to sit upright and turned to face Gareth.He glanced at me in question.With a deep breath, I took his hand and laid it on my stomach.“I think this one will be just as beautiful as our other two.”
