Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Blinking, I excuse myself from the kitchen and walk down the hall, looking for the half bath.
But before I can get there, Brady takes my elbow and pulls me into a theater.
“Hey.” He frowns as I wipe away a tear. “What’s wrong? Who the fuck made you cry? I’ll kill them.”
“No one,” I reply with a half laugh. “It’s happy tears. And maybe I’m a little overwhelmed, too. I’m not used to this.”
“What? Christmas?”
“Not like this. With all the people and the food and the presents. Feeling included and loved. And I’m so grateful that Daisy has it. That your family makes her feel like she belongs here. She called your mom Grandma, and when I tried to correct her, Joy wouldn’t allow it.”
“Of course not,” he says with a half smile. “Being a grandma is her favorite thing. Hell, she’d let you call her grandma.”
I laugh at that, already feeling much better.
“I’m just…grateful,” I say again. “I don’t have another word to describe it. And you got me this incredible, outrageous gift, and I really shouldn’t accept them, but I’m going to because they’re so beautiful, and I couldn’t stand it if someone else wore them.”
“No one else is going to wear them, Abs. I bought them for you.”
“What was Christmas like for you, as a kid?” he asks as we sit in two of the wide, deep theater seats, turning to face each other.
“Before I was twelve, it was pretty normal. Or, my mom tried to make it as normal as possible. She was a single mom, and she was so poor. Always poor. She cleaned houses for a living, and sometimes I helped her. I enjoyed it.”
“I guess so. You followed in her footsteps.”
I grin, nodding. “Yeah. We always had a tree. I had at least one thing to open, and we had a good meal. Every year. She made sure of it.”
“What happened when you were twelve, Abs?” He takes my hand in his, links our fingers, and I hold on tight, not wanting to tell him this part.
“Mom died,” I whisper. “She had been sick. Cancer. And I went into foster care, and that piece is not a conversation for Christmas Day.”
“Fair enough,” he replies, not pressing the subject. He reaches over and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m glad that you and Daisy are here. I know we’re big and loud and kind of obnoxious most of the time. Okay, that’s mostly just Chase.”
I bark out a laugh, and he smiles, as if that’s exactly what he was going for.
“But,” he continues, “we’re mostly harmless.”
“You have a wonderful family.”
“Yeah. I do. I have to say, Daisy’s been a kick today. So happy and excited, like she usually is, but on steroids.”
“My kid loves presents. Giving and receiving, as she proved today by giving every single person a piece of art that she made herself.”
“My picture of a horse actually looks like a horse,” he says, obviously impressed. “I should have bought her art supplies.”
“She didn’t want to go to bed last night,” I confess. “She wanted to stay up for Santa. So, I had to wait her out before I could do the Santa thing.”
“Wait.” He holds up a hand, scowling. “You mean, Santa’s not real?”
I grin at him. “Of course, he is.”
“And what did Santa bring her?”
“He filled her stocking, and mine, actually. I always fill my own stocking because otherwise, Daisy would think that Santa doesn’t love me.” I shrug a shoulder. “It’s kind of nice to get some new shower gel and chocolate of my own that I don’t have to share. Anyway, she got some clothes, a couple of Barbies with clothes for them, and a couple of small toys. The bike was the biggest thing, and Erin and I decided we wanted to give them to the kids at the same time.”
“It was a hit,” he replies with that sexy grin. “What else did Santa bring you?”
“Uh, a healthy kid and a thriving business. I don’t need anything else, Brady. Besides, you got me socks and these glorious diamonds.”
“Hold up. Are you telling me that the only Christmas presents that you opened today were from me?”
“No. Erin, Polly, Summer, Millie, and I exchanged gifts. Daisy made me an ornament for the tree in school… Don’t look at me like that.” He’s scowling at me, and it makes me shift in my seat. “What did you get this morning? Did you even have a stocking?”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because it just is.” He’s still scowling, so I reach over and smooth the lines between his brows with the pad of my thumb.
“Merry Christmas, Brady.”
He sighs, then lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles, sending shivers up my arm. “Merry Christmas, Abs.”
“What are you doing?” Daisy demands as she opens the door. “Oh, are we watching a movie?”