Page 32 of Our First Christmas


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“I naps.” Iris plops a slobbery hand on my knee. “I eats now?” Her brow crinkles, concerned she might miss her next meal. Not a chance.

“Yep, Itty Bitty.” I lift her as I stand, kissing her cheek. “Breakfast is almost ready. How about a grape?”

“Yes, pweez.” She waits patiently after I get her in her highchair to pass out the fruit Cher prepared as part of their breakfast.

I divvy up a couple of bananas, grapes, cantaloupe, and apple slices between everyone, giving extra care to the size for Maddyn. At nine months, her enthusiasm for eating often has her swallowing bites before chewing—or gumming. Near mush is a must.

With Eggs, bacon, and biscuits plated up, they dig in and are half done before the rest of the adults join us, dressed for hitting the slopes—except Reese. Like Cher, she’s never skied before. I thought she might try, but doesn’t look like it.

“Reese, I’m happy to stay back if you want to go today.” I pull Cher into the chair next to me, needing a minute before I leave her for the day—or at least until lunch. We’re taking it easy today. None of us have skied in a few years. Gabriel is the furthest out, but he’s also probably the most athletic of the bunch. Don’t tell Rowdy I said that.

Of the kids, Maddox is the only one who nearly qualifies to take kiddie ski lessons, cutoff being four years old. The kids will stay back today while we check it out and see if we can get Maddox, Killian, Cade, and Wade into some sort of ski lessons since they’re all bigger than most four-year-olds—and athletic, if I do say so myself.

“No, I’m good,” she’s quick to shut me down, her gaze following Rowdy as he fills his plate with more eggs.

“Maybe we can go snowmobiling or tubing,” Cher suggests to the room.

“Or a spa day.” Taylor sighs dreamily.

“Yes! I second a girls’ spa day,” Frankie is quick to respond.

I kiss Cher’s cheek. “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

The girls don’t know we already bought them a spa package for the day after Christmas. The guys will relax with the kids as our wives indulge in a little me-time.

After breakfast, we linger at the door, reluctant to leave our wives and kids. “When did we get pussy-whipped?” I grumble more in awe than a complaint.

Cowboy chuckles as he pulls Taylor out the door. “The day you met your other halves.”

“What about you?” She hurries to keep up.

“Songbird, you pussy-whipped me when I was seventeen. The only difference is, I get to take you with me.”

“Good answer.” She jumps on his back for a ride to the truck.

“I’m taking mine with me too.” Gabriel takes one last look at his kids, then wraps his arm around Frankie. “But damn, if it isn’t hard leaving our kids.”

“Come on, Big Man. I’ll sit on your lap as you explain the fundamentals of skiing.”

“You could just ride my back down the hill,” he offers, not even joking a little.

I laugh because I had nearly the same thought about Cher.

“We could stay, you know.” Rowdy waves at Reese cleaning up Killian’s breakfast face.

“We could, but then what was the point of coming to a ski resort if we don’t actually leave the cabin or do stuff we can’t do at home?” I grip his shoulder. Together we make our way out the door.

“We’re coming back for lunch, right?” he confirms.

“Yeah, I’ll be due for a Plum fix by then.”

“Hear that.”

The sooner we get this show on the road, the faster we can get home to our other halves and our littles.

I catch Cher waving as we pull out. My heart pangs.

I’ve said it before.

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