Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Merry Christmas, Selena,” he murmured against my lips.
“Merry Christmas,” I whispered back. “This might be the best one yet.”
“Just wait,” he promised. “I’m going to make sure every Christmas is the best one you’ve ever had.”
EPILOGUE
DOMINIC - ONE YEAR LATER
It was a Christmas of firsts. My first Christmas tree was standing in the window, lording over the city. For the first time, Marjorie and Jake were coming to my place for Christmas Eve dinner instead of the other way around. And baby Bryan was going to have his first Christmas on his four-month birthday.
Selena was trying to dress him in a tiny Santa suit, but the fur around the collar was irritating him. He kept squalling every time she tried.
“But it’s a Santa suit,” she explained to him. “You have to wear it.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said, scooping up the red-faced infant and carrying him away from the offending garment. “Bryan has standards.”
“Bryan is at least going to wear the hat,” Selena said, following me and trying to pull the hat over his head.
I stood still, letting her. Bryan didn’t mind hats, and this one didn’t have fur around the band. It was red knit with a white pom pom. When she was done, I turned him so we could see him in the mirror.
“Oooh sweetheart,” Selena cooed. “You look so cute. Now, what about the pants?”
Our son didn’t like the pants. More scratchy fur around the ankles. We put him in his Santa-style PJs instead and laid him down in his bassinet for a quick, pre-dinner nap.
“Oh well,” Selena said, folding up the rejected outfit. “I’ll give it to Christi. Maybe Laura will wear it.”
Laura was Christi’s daughter who was only two months older than Bryan. She and Jake had officially been together since the Christmas ball, too, and together, we all made a slightly strange but strangely perfect family.
“You sure you don’t want to save it?” I asked, putting my arms around Selena from behind, stilling her brisk movements and pulling her back against me. I rested my chin in her hair.
Selena relaxed back against me. “He won’t fit in it next year,” she murmured.
“Maybe he won’t, but maybe someone else will.” I slipped my hand down to her stomach. It amazed me now that I never thought I wanted children. Now I wanted half a dozen.
Selena laughed, low in her throat, and covered my hand with hers. “Next Christmas is ambitious,” she warned, tilting her head back so she could kiss the underside of my jaw.
I tightened my grip. “I like a challenge.”
Laughing, Selena wriggled away, but I noticed she put the little outfit back into Bryan’s drawer instead of bringing it out into the living room for Christi.
Within the hour, the sun had sunk below the horizon, plunging the sky outside into velvety darkness. The Christmas tree gleamed brightly against the dark sky and gave the whole place a cheerful glow. Selena put on It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas while I mixed up the candy cane martinis she, Jake, and Christi loved. Then I set them aside and made real martinis for Marjorie and myself.
Just as I finished putting the lemon peel in Marjorie’s and the olives in mine, we heard the cheerful noises of our family spilling off the elevator. Within seconds, they were knocking at the door.
“Hurry up,” Jake called.
I frowned as I pulled open the door, ready to ask why he hadn’t just used his damn key. Then I saw that his arms were filled with presents, and Christi’s arms were filled with baby Laura. Marjorie stood behind them, and I nearly did a double take. She was holding a bottle of champagne in one hand, but her other hand was wrapped around that of a tall man in a Christmas sweater.
“Dominic, this is Gavin,” she said as they walked in. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited him last minute.”
“I invited myself,” Gavin corrected. “I told her she couldn’t keep me a secret any longer.”
I sized him up. He didn’t look a thing like Bryan, but there was something about his self-effacing smile that felt familiar. Good, I thought. It had been too damn long since Marjorie had a hand to hold. Now the question was, was he a candy cane martini or a regular martini guy?
“A regular martini,” he assured me, his lip curling slightly at the magenta-colored drinks with the sprigs of rosemary and cranberry garnish the others were reaching for.
“You’re welcome here anytime,” I said, handing him mine and making another.
It was the loudest Christmas we’d ever had, and I loved every minute of it. I could barely hear Selena’s carefully curated Christmas playlist over the sounds of the babies. We put them on a blanket in the center of the living room, and we were all sitting around them instead of the table or the tree. Bryan was shrieking with frustration, trying to roll over. He was close, but not there yet. Laura was flipping around like a seal, rubbing it in his face. Laughter rang out, forks clinked against the plates we were balancing on our laps. Gavin spilled his martini and nearly had a heart attack apologizing, but I didn’t care. I went into the kitchen to make the next round.