by Lauren Runow
Thomas bounces up and down on Hunter’s legs while Hunter holds him around his waist.
“He just turned one. He’s my future wingman.”
“He’s a baby,” Melissa states.
“A baby who loves his Uncky and will help me woo the ladies,” Hunter banters back.
“You’re not that special. He loves anyone who will give him attention … just like his uncle,” she taunts in return. “And who are you wooing? Your girlfriend is literally sitting right there.”
Hunter turns to me with Thomas’s face smooshed up against his cheek. “What do you say, Katie McGee? Am I even more attractive with this meatball next to me?”
I don’t want to tell him that my stomach does a flip at the sight of his handsome face with a beautiful baby. In fact, I didn’t even know I could feel my ovaries until this very minute because they’re rattling with desire, making me want to crawl on Hunter’s lap and take him here on the couch. But that would be inappropriate. His family is here. He has a baby in his arms. And sex with Hunter is kinda off the table … I think.
“Stop, you two. Thomas loves everyone,” Nancy says, bending down to pick him up from Hunter and taking him into the kitchen.
“Yeah, but we share the same birthday, so we’re extra cool,” Hunter says proudly.
I turn to Hunter, wide-eyed. “You just had a birthday?”
He tries to blow me off. “It was a few weeks ago. No big deal.”
How did I not know it was his birthday? He sits by my desk every day.
“You should have told me. I would have done something nice.”
He smiles. “You did. You had on that green sweater with an otter on it. When I told you it was cute, you said, ‘Get otter here.’ It made my day.”
I hit myself in my forehead with my palm. “My jokes sound so corny, coming out of your mouth.”
He chuckles. “And then Branson asked you where the data was for the Nielsen report, and you told him to flip the file over because it was on the otter side.”
I shake my head in embarrassment. “It’s no wonder the man has never noticed me.”
As I say it, I can feel Hunter’s body stiffen. I might not know what this thing between us is, but bringing up Branson is probably a bad idea even if it is exactly how we started.
Melissa doesn’t seem to have heard our conversation because she continues, “Ugh, don’t remind me I have another boy Sagittarius on my hands. Hopefully, he’s not as prone to explore and roam like you are.”
Hunter scoffs, pretending to be offended, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You’re thirty-three and still single. Well”—she points at me—“semi-single, I guess.”
He looks at me and gives a wink. “There’s definitely no semi here,” he teases.
“Gross.” She rolls her eyes, and I laugh at his crudeness and ability to lighten the mood.
Ella holds up a Slinky she got in her stocking and runs to the stairs to see if it will walk down them.
“I need coffee,” Melissa states, probably needing the extra help that caffeine offers so she can deal with the Christmas chaos that has only just begun.
Hunter reaches behind him and pulls out a box. “Santa brought you something too.”
He holds it out for me, and my heart melts at the simple red bow tied so nicely.
“Hunter,” I say, exasperated, “you shouldn’t have.”
I undo the ribbon and open the box to see a snow globe. Inside is Rockefeller Center at Christmastime. The enormous spruce is set in front of the building, covered in colorful lights. The ice rink is in the foreground with tiny skaters whirling about, and the walkway is lined with angels trumpeting into the air. When I shake it, snow flurries over the iconic New York scene.
I cover my mouth even though it’s my eyes I should shield from anyone seeing how misty I’m getting over this gift.
“You said you love New York at Christmastime. Now, you can have a piece of it all year long.” He leans in and gives the globe a shake too.
My eyes start to pool with emotion. This is beyond thoughtful.
He puts the globe on the coffee table, and we watch the flakes fall on the inside. I’m mesmerized by it, touched by the sentiment.
Hunter hits my thigh and rises. “Let’s get something to eat.”
I stand and follow him around the couch. When we get to the hallway, away from the prying eyes of his family, I stop him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. And not the sweet Christmas kind. This is a stand on your tippy toes and take everything from your soul and pour it into him kinda kiss. As his arms snake around me, he pulls me in and kisses me back. And, no, there’s no semi here.
“What was that for?” he asks as our mouths part.
“I’m just really happy I came here.”
He smiles, taking my hand in his. “Me too, my Katie McGee.”
Hunter wasn’t kidding when he said the Johnstone family Christmas was a big affair. After breakfast, we get dressed for the holiday. I put on a red sweater dress with black leggings and little black booties, and then I go back downstairs to help Randy set the table.
Hunter busies himself in the kitchen to make the sides with Nancy while the food cooks in the oven. I play with Ella and Thomas, Ella showing me how to use her new toys and me showing Thomas how to use his.
I’m on the floor, sitting with my legs bent to the side, making toy train noises, when I glance up and see Hunter standing in the doorway, wearing a look of contentment. I smile but am quickly brought back in the land of trains when Thomas puts his hand on my face and literally brings my focus back there.
Every couple of minutes, the doorbell rings with more family arriving. Hugs are given, traffic is cursed about, and pies are handed off as, one by one, the extended family piles into the home.
Now that everyone is here, it’s a bit overwhelming.
I thought the tree was overloaded before, but now, there’s barely room to sit with the presents piled so high into the seating area.
Hunter never falters with introducing me as his girlfriend, and honestly, I’m not tired of hearing it. His cousins seem surprised. His grandma hugs him with glee, praising the Lord that he’s finally found someone. And his uncle Gerry tells me I am a fine piece of candy cane—a comment that has Hunter turning to me with an I told you so expression written all over his face. I politely thank the gentleman so as not to cause a scene.
“What’s the difference between snowmen and snowwomen?” Uncle Gerry asks, and then he quickly answers, “Snowballs!”
I laugh as I sit and listen to several more while Nancy continues to tell her brother-in-law that he’s being inappropriate.
“Dinner’s on!” Randy yells from the kitchen.
Ella is the first to jump to her feet and race to the dining room. All day, they’ve had to remind her that we won’t open presents from the family until after dinner, and she’s been asking when dinner is since eleven this morning.
Hunter walks me to the dining room, which houses a large table, a side table, and a kids table—enough for the twenty-four people in attendance. Surprisingly enough, the room fits everyone.
He pulls out my chair, making sure I’m situated before sitting himself. Randy stands next to the huge ham at the head of the table, and Nancy joins him at his side.
“Let us pray,” Randy says as he wraps his arm around Nancy, and they both bow their heads.
Hunter reaches down to my lap and takes my hand in his. We eye each other through our bowed heads, and I grin at how cute he looks right now.
“Love brought Jesus to this table, and love brings us here together. Thank you for giving us another year of joy and immense gratitude for life.” He makes a sniffling sound, so I look up and see he’s staring at Nancy. “We give thanks for this food at our table and the souls in the seats. With joy, we pray. Amen.”
We all join in, “Amen.”
“Dig in!” Ella sings.
Randy gra
bs the carver and starts cutting into the ham while we all pass around the dishes full of food that look and smell absolutely amazing.
I’m only a few bites in when Uncle Gerry starts up, “So, Katie, let me ask you, what’s the difference between Tiger Woods and Santa?”
“Oh dear.” Nancy covers her eyes with her hand and drops her head.
Hunter laughs under his breath as I reply to his uncle, “I don’t know. What?”
Gerry leans forward and holds his arms out, as if he’s about to deliver the best punch line in history. “Santa was smart enough to stop at three hos!”
Hunter chuckles while Nancy hits him with one of the mistletoe napkins she put at everyone’s place setting.
The room is overcome with joyous laughter and chatter.
My family has always gotten along, but with just my parents and my brother, it’s pretty quiet. My grandparents on either side only visit us on occasion, and we’ve never been close enough to cousins to all get together like this. Still, it has me missing them.
“You okay?” Hunter nudges my shoulder.
When I look at him, I realize I’m not sad about not having my family even though I wish they could be here. But if I have to be anywhere else than with my family, this feels like a good place to be.
“I’m great,” I say honestly.
Hunter’s cousin Samantha hits his shoulder. “Ha! I won. Grandma’s already fading, and she isn’t going to make it to finish her plate.”
We all turn to see Grandma’s head slowly bobbing with closed eyes. Nancy reaches over to move Grandma’s dinner plate, so she doesn’t land in the mashed potatoes.
Hunter’s head falls back in laughter. “Damn it. I swore she’d make it until dessert. I’m losing my touch.” He reaches for his wallet and hands Samantha a twenty.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” She takes it with a cheerful pop to her words.
“You did not place a bet on your grandmother?” I ask in disbelief, trying to hide my smile that wants to break through.
Samantha leans over him to talk to me. “We do every year. This is the first time I’ve won!” She does a little shimmy in her seat. “Money, money, money.” She turns to her sister, sitting across the table, and points.
On cue, her sister, Carlie, sings, “Mon-ey!”
They all break out in laughter with even Melissa joining in. “How did you guys not let me in on the bet this year?”
“You were upstairs with Thomas. Sorry, sis,” Hunter says, and she narrows her eyes.
“Okay, well, I go first on the worst present.” She searches the room before rubbing her hands together.
“Worst present?” I ask with a raised brow.
He grins. “Every year, each of us buys a gag gift. You roll the dice, and depending on the number you get, you either open it, pass it, or swap it. You play until they’re all opened, and at that point, the gift in your hands is the one you take home. It’s fun to guess who brought them.”
“Oh, what did you bring?” I ask, cozying up to him.
“Nuh-uh, no cheating.” Samantha playfully shakes her finger at me.
I purse my lips. “I’m not playing. I didn’t bring anything.”
“I saw seven gifts in our pile,” Samantha states, puzzled, as if she counted wrong.
Hunter rubs my leg under the table. “I brought one for you, so you could play along.”
“Aw! Look at you, being all cutesy.” Samantha places her hands under her chin, scrunching her shoulders up in awe.
We finish our dinner with laughter and lighthearted conversation, and then we gather around the living room with a fire crackling in the background. Randy comes in, wearing a Santa suit. Hunter was right; his beard refuses to stay on his face as he hands out gifts from him and Nancy to the extended family. Uncle Gerry gets me a glass of wine as I sit and listen to this wonderful family opening gifts and sharing memories.
The room is a sea of wrapping paper once again as everyone shares their gifts and gives kisses in thanks. Hunter gets a new pair of ski goggles from his grandmother and a new pair of hiking boots from his aunt and uncle. I didn’t know he was such an outdoorsy guy, but by the look on his face, he’s excited to put them to good use.
When it’s time for the worst-gift portion, Melissa and Tyler, Hunter and I, along with his cousins, Samantha and Carlie, and Carlie’s husband, Joe, move to a corner of the room.
Hunter brings out a velvet Santa bag and empties the gifts into the center of the group. “The one with the elf wrapping paper is the gift I brought that’s from you,” he whispers in my ear as I give him my glass of wine to place on the end table.
“I shouldn’t pick that one?” I ask.
“Do whatever you want. Just letting you know which worst gift is yours.”
“How long have you guys been doing this?” I ask out loud to the group as we each take our turns in selecting one.
Samantha looks over at Melissa. “Gosh, what, twenty years now for us?”
“Yeah,” Melissa replies. “When we got to high school age, the gift exchange got out of hand, so the cousins started our own game. It’s a twenty-five-dollar maximum, and the gift has to make your eyes roll.”
“Remember that year when Samantha brought the calendar that was full of amazing pictures from really cool places, but in the middle of each picture, there was a dog pooping,” Carlie says through her giggles.
“That was foul.” Melissa scrunches her face. “Tyler is the one who got it, and yep, he hung it right next to our computer desk. All. Year. Long.” She picks up a pillow and throws it at Samantha.
She takes the pillow and places it behind her back, like she wanted it the entire time.
Carlie gets up and picks the last gift—a flat, rectangular item. Since she’s the youngest, she gets to go first. “Okay, everyone, pay attention. I’m going.”
She rolls the dice, and it lands on a one, which means she has to switch gifts with the person to the right of her.
Melissa rolls a five next. “Open it!” she yells. She laughs when she unwraps it and shows us an apron with a picture of Lionel Richie in a sultry pose with the words Hello. Is it me you’re cooking for? written on it.
She holds it against herself to model it for everyone.
Tyler almost spits out the eggnog he was drinking. “Nice,” he says smoothly when he recovers.
“My turn,” Samantha says, getting up to grab the dice. She rolls a three, which means she can swap with anyone. She hands her still-wrapped gift to Melissa and takes the apron from her, and Melissa pouts.
Tyler has the gift with the elf wrapping paper. He rolls a six and gets to open the gift on his lap. He yanks out the tissue paper and pulls out socks. With shreds of cheese and a grater, they say, My puns are grate.
I laugh out loud and then turn to Hunter. He said he loves my cheesy jokes. I thought he was being polite. He gets me, and it makes my heart smile.
It also turns me on. A lot.
I have a tingling in me, a bold kind of yearning that makes me want to tell my inner kitten to simmer down. A sip of wine will calm this itch.
Reaching across the couch for my glass of wine that’s sitting on the end table, I rest my hand on Hunter’s thigh, and my palm skims down the inside. His muscle flexes at the touch, and—let’s call it a Freudian slip—my ring and pinkie fingers move over his crotch. I feel the release of his breath hit the back of my head.
I grip the wineglass, and on the return, my hand slides off his thigh and rests against his now-very-hard erection.
As I settle back into the couch and take a much-needed sip of wine from my brazenness, Hunter turns his body toward mine and whispers in my ear, “Look who’s finally found her inner holiday harlot.”
“Okay, Katie, so far, we have cheesy socks, an apron, and Joe just opened edible underwear,” Samantha says. “If you’re lucky, you can take those home.”
As she winks, I cough, sitting up straighter. Melissa makes a gagging face, and Hunter squ
eezes my shoulder while readjusting himself.
I pick up the dice and roll.
“Try not to win the underwear,” Hunter says quietly.
I look over at him. “Why?”
“I hate the taste of them in my mouth.” He lowers his voice to a barely audible whisper. “But I’d make an exception for you.”
He winks.
And I take a drink.
A very long drink. I think I’m gonna need it.
Chapter Eleven
It’s past eleven when the extended family leaves. Melissa and Tyler put the kids to bed and are packing for their drive home to Massachusetts tomorrow.
Hunter and I volunteered to clean up the last remnants of the day’s festivities. Nancy protested, but her husband marched her up the stairs. I’ve enjoyed getting to know them today, but mainly, I’ve enjoyed seeing the way they interact. They’re the type of couple who are always touching, whether it’s a hand on the back or reaching out to graze hands while passing in the hall. I even caught them giving each other quick kisses throughout the day. There wasn’t one hour where one of them wasn’t checking in with the other to see if they needed help or a drink or to pass a compliment.
“Your parents are amazing,” I say, drying the china with a rag and resting it on the pile of plates we’ve cleaned.
“You sound surprised.” He hands me another item, freshly washed. His sleeves are rolled up as he rinses the last of the dishes.
I shrug as I take it from him. “Makes sense as to why you couldn’t marry Cassidy just because. Why you bounce from girl to girl now.”
He’s silent for a moment, and my nerves rattle as I wonder if I crossed some sort of line. When he gives a small, lopsided grin, I relax.
“You’re very perceptive, Katie.”
He gives me the last glass from the sink before turning the water off. As I finish the job, he dries his hands on a towel, turns his back to the sink, and crosses his arms.
I put the last dish on the pile and watch as he studies the tiled floor.
“My mom had breast cancer when I was in high school,” he finally says, and my arm instinctually reaches out to him.
