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I swallowed nervously. “Uh, thank you, sir.” My voice sounded shaky.
Fawn reached out and touched my arm. “His presence is intimidating, but honestly, he’s a big teddy bear.”
Saxon coughed to cover a laugh, and Fawn winked at him, then glanced back at Garrett. I doubted anything about that man was like a teddy bear.
“I guess I need to remind you tonight how intimidating I can be,” he said, looking down at Fawn with possessiveness in his eyes.
She laughed and leaned closer to him. “I hope so.”
“Jesus, get a room,” Trev told them, walking up to us. “Sax, Haisley, come with me.”
Saxon excused us, and we followed Trev through an archway of white berries, silver chiffon, and white twinkling lights. He glanced back at us. “We have the firepits lit out on the veranda, where there are fewer old people.”
As we were walking through the great room with its massive, roaring fireplace and a live instrumental band, my gaze fell on Saxon’s mom. She was headed our way. I tensed, unsure of what to expect. Twice, I’d thought about going to the house and talking to her. Trying to see if I could smooth things out with us. But I’d let my fear and insecurities stop me.
“Hello, Trev,” she said in greeting. “I was hoping I could speak with Saxon and Haisley for a moment before you take them out to the others.”
Trev nodded. “Sure.” He glanced back at Saxon before heading toward the open glass doors.
“It’s Christmas Eve, Mom,” Saxon said tightly.
She pressed her lips together. “I know. I’m not here to argue with you. I miss my son, and … I want to fix things between us.”
His hand on my hip tightened. “Accepting Haisley is in my life, is staying in my life, and that we are having this baby together is the only way to fix things between us.”
She nodded. “I know.” She glanced at me. “I’m sorry. I handled everything wrong. Saxon is my only child, and I’ve had his life all planned out in my head since he was a baby.”
“And now, I’m an adult, and I make the decisions about my life,” he interrupted her.
“Yes, you do. I think … I wasn’t ready to let you go. I wanted you to get to choose who you had a child with.”
“Stop,” Saxon said, his jaw clenched. “What happened with Haisley and me wasn’t ideal. But not because of the pregnancy. Because I lost her. The pregnancy brought her back to me and gave me a chance to keep her. Convince her to want me. She’s the only woman I would ever want to have a baby with. So, if I got to choose, I would choose her. I got lucky.”
I was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to grab him and kiss him. I stared up at him, wishing I could tell him everything. That I did want him. I’d always wanted him. That my wanting him had nothing to do with my ending things with him.
“I know. I guess I’m not saying this correctly. I can see how much you love her. I made a mistake, and I’m asking you both to forgive me.”
I stood there, waiting for Saxon to correct her. He wasn’t in love with me. Was he?
He nodded. “Okay.”
I felt his mother’s eyes on me, and I turned to look at her. I could see the pleading look on her face. “Yes, of course. I hated coming between you both.”
She smiled, looking relieved, and stepped forward, holding out her hands. “Can I hug you?” she asked me.
I nodded, and she wrapped her arms around me. I returned the hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then let me go and moved over to pull Saxon into a tight hug.
I watched as she kissed his cheek and whispered something to him before letting him go.
“So, tomorrow morning,” she said, wiping at a tear that had gotten free and rolled down her face. “Will you come to breakfast?”
Saxon looked down at me, as if waiting for me to answer.
“That sounds nice,” I said, looking from him to her.
“Can you make it a late breakfast?” he asked.
She smiled happily. “Yes, of course. We can make it a brunch.”
Kenneth walked up then and looked from Saxon to his wife. “I take it, by the look on her face, all is well here?”
She nodded and turned to smile at her husband.
Kenneth turned to me. “Then, we will be seeing you for breakfast?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good.” He gave Saxon a nod.
When we left them to go outside, I wanted Saxon to say something about the thing his mom had said about him loving me.
Instead, he leaned down and brushed a kiss on my temple and whispered, “Thank you.”
I frowned. “For what?”
He chuckled. “For being fucking perfect.”
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the sounds of Christmas music came from the living room. I glanced over, and Saxon wasn’t there. I stretched, then climbed out of bed. A long-sleeved red flannel shirt of Saxon’s was lying on the end of the bed. Smiling, I picked it up and slipped it on. This hadn’t been there when we fell asleep last night. He must have laid it out for me.
