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“I’m not a potty mouth.” She mutters, going back to her cookie project. Nick looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes and shrugs. I roll my own eyes, letting him know that now’s not the time our daughter is occupied.
Nick takes me in his arms, still cold from the low temperatures outside and presses his lips against mine, then on top of baby Tessa’s head. “This is like walking into heaven every day. I love you, Carolyn Sweet-Danvers.”
“I never took your name.” I tease with a wink.
“You didn’t have to, baby. Once you said I do, you became mine all mine.”
“Possessive, much?”
Nick gives my rear end a playful pinch. “Lots, and don’t you forget it.” It makes me giggle, and the baby stirs. I press my finger to my mouth, warning my husband to shush before all chaos ensues.
While Nick had no interest in becoming the Chief of Police before we met, after we were married, he agreed to rally for the position so that he wouldn’t be on the streets. My worries increased after he’d been moved to nights and was involved in some shady cases. But, like the hero my big-hearted cop husband is, he did what was best for me and, of course, the family. Him, being the man he is, won the position with surprising ease.
“This town’s going to be in a sugar coma.” Nick grabs a perfectly decorated gingerbread man and bites his head off.
“Nick!” I sigh. “Those are for your sisters in-law.”
“Well, I can say firsthand.” He presses the back of his hand to his mouth. “They taste delicious.” Nick moves behind me and pulls me close. His breath tickles my neck. “I know something that tastes even better, though.”
My panties soak on the spot. My husband’s insatiable appetite for sex is what got us three kids in five years. “I’ll save a little sugar for you tonight.” I say, then turn my face and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Only if you shave first, baby. You’re scruffy!”
“I thought you liked it scruffy.”
“Mommy, what do you like scruffy?” Annie looks up at us with curious eyes.
“Okay,” I playfully push my husband away. “That’s enough. You, go wash up. I’m ordering pizza.”
Nick steps back with his hands in the air. “Whatever you say, boss.” He heads upstairs, but not without grabbing another cookie for the road. I roll my eyes, but can’t be too upset. I know my husband and made way more cookies than ordered to account for this type of behavior. Secretly, I love it.
Christmas with my sisters and our families should be awesome. There’s no better time for gratitude, for honoring past traditions while creating new ones in the present, and for soaking in the love that surrounds us. Thanks to Officer Nick Danvers, I’ve learned first hand that while you can’t predict where love will take you, happy endings are a definite possibility.
