Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Why does that stocking have a paw print?” I lean in and whisper to Hayden.
When he doesn’t say anything after several seconds, Miles answers for him. “That would be for the puppy Evie asked Santa for.”
Christmas: One Year Later
“Do you hear that?” Brody asks.
“No,” I mutter.
“You sure?” Hayden asks.
“The kids are asleep,” I assure them. “And if you wake them up at three in the damn morning, I'm going to kill you,” I say.
“Fine.” Brody groans and reaches toward me, palming my breast.
“No way,” I hiss. “I’m trying to sleep. Just because you guys are excited for Christmas doesn’t mean we have to get up in the middle of the night.”
“Look, Miles! Santa came!” Evie whisper-yells.
“I knew I heard them!” Brody says as the guys dart out of bed and out the door.
“Guess we’re doing presents at three in the morning,” I say to myself as I drag my ass out of bed, exhaustion weighing down on me.
“Mom! Check out all the presents,” Evie says when she sees me. “And look, Piper, Santa brought you some presents too,” she says to her one-and-a-half-year-old black Labrador Santa brought her for Christmas last year. Brody rescued him from the animal shelter—a puppy someone got and couldn’t handle—and put him under the tree. Evie was so excited she cried; the two of them have been inseparable ever since.
I plop onto the couch and cuddle up with Brody and Hayden, watching as the kids open present after present. When only a few are left, Evie says, “Brody, Hayden, this one’s for you!” She hands them the present, and they look at me.
Hayden undoes the wrapping and then opens the box, pulling an ornament out.
“Oh, it’s a family ornament,” Evie says. “But we already got one,” she points out.
“This one’s different,” I say. “Hayden, read the names out loud.”
“Hayden, Brody, Evie, Miles, Bree, and…” His eyes dart up to me. “Baby?” he chokes out. “Are you—?”
“Pregnant?” Brody finishes.
“Yep,” I tell them both. “I’m eight weeks along.”
Brody pulls me onto his lap, and Hayden lifts my shirt.
“You’re going to be dads,” I murmur as Hayden kisses my soft belly. “Merry Christmas.”