by Taryn Quinn
Breathless, we finally parted a few minutes later. He ran his fingertip between my breasts and kept on going, stopping just above my belly button. “Do you really think so?”
The wonder in his question made a lump form in my throat. “It’s a definite possibility.”
“If you are, if we are, I’ll do everything in this world to make you happy. I swear it on my life.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ll make both of you happy and me too. Or you know, all four of us—” He laughed as I punched him in the ribs. “Ow. My woman is strong.”
“Is that what I am?” I was still dazed from all he’d said.
Words were easy. Emotions and actions weren’t. And if he was faking his reaction to the possible existence of this child, then he had me fooled. His sincerity was as much a part of him as his cedar scent or the misty gray of his eyes.
Or his sweet, confusing heart.
He drew me against him and brushed my hair off my cheek. “If you’ll have me.”
“I’m scared.” Admitting it was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“Oh, baby, I am too.” He pressed my hand against his chest so that I could feel his rapid heartbeat through the material. “But it’s a good scared. It means I want this. I want you and what can be. Whatever is meant for us. I’m right here, ready to take every step with you.”
My lips quivered into a smile as I put my sunglasses back into place. “Is that casual lunch still on the table? Because suddenly, I’m starving.”
I wasn’t lying. For the first time in a while, all I wanted was a big juicy cheeseburger and thick steak fries from the diner. Or that poutine from Gina that Paisley had mentioned.
And if some of the reason my appetite had returned was because of this impossible, incredible man beside me, well, so be it.
I wasn’t running anymore.
“Absolutely. Your choice. Let’s go.” He started walking around the Jeep to the driver’s side, but I grabbed his hand and held on tight as he looked back at me.
“After we go buy a pregnancy test? If you wouldn’t mind being there while I make sure.”
This time, I wasn’t even surprised when he spun me around. Although I made him put me down a lot faster, since my stomach and I weren’t on the best of terms when he tried stuff like that.
But the rest of me secretly loved it.
God, I was a sap.
The whole way to the drugstore a town over, Callum rubbed my knee and smiled at me every time our gazes locked. Which was often.
When I’d told him where to go, he hadn’t even questioned why we had to travel so far when there were stores in town.
And when I went in the store’s small, dingy bathroom to do what I needed to do, he paced in the hallway, asking every thirty seconds, “Is it time yet?”
I opened the door and took a quick glance around before dragging him inside so he could look at the little stick with me.
One of us whooped. It was probably him. I was too shell-shocked to do anything but press my forehead against his strong, solid chest when he hauled me into a hug.
“We did it,” he murmured into my hair over and over.
I let out a sniffly laugh. “You do realize this wasn’t a goal we were aiming for. It just kind of happened.”
“Yes, we got lucky. It’s as if we’re in our own mythology tale, centered in that far away land called Crescendia Cove. They’ll write about us someday.”
As I laughed harder, he smoothed his thumbs under my cheeks. That was how I knew I was crying. “Is that so?”
“Yes. The story will be about the beautiful woman with pink messy braids and hope in her eyes who kissed the lonely man under the mistletoe and gave him a reason to believe. And he pledged to give her and their baby a lifetime of Christmases, because who says you can only celebrate once a year?”
I leaned against him, because I was finally beginning to have faith that I could. That he wouldn’t have come back so many times if he didn’t truly want to stay.
“Who says,” I repeated softly as his lips met mine.
Ellie
Christmas Eve Eve
My breath caught on the turn into my house. Our house—a house made for a family. Something I’d never dreamed of having. Cal had indulged me in my love of Christmas decorations. I was pretty sure he might be out-Christmasing even me.
The huge oak tree at the edge of our property was decked out in about a bazillion white lights. Huge red Christmas balls and illuminated white stars swung merrily in the breeze off the water. Callum had spent one of the nice Sundays in November monkeying all over that tree to get it done. All because he found a photo in my family look book.
Well, it was sort of ours now.
Photos for inspiration that I’d found in magazines and printed out from online made up the book, just like with my hair-focused one. I knew Pinterest would be easier, but it had seemed to be the perfect joint planning thing for us as we’d gotten to know each other over the last year. He sneaked in sketches, and I went for glossy photos.
His brothers—who were just as insane as he’d warned me—had come to help decorate while his mom and I stayed on a quilt with the babies.
Yeah, babies. Plural.
Wouldn’t have pegged me spending my pregnancy bonding with my mother-in-law-to-be through thick ankles, stretch marks, and late night cravings, but I had. Cal had gotten the news that his mother was pregnant a day after we’d taken our test. We’d gone to tell his folks, and they’d had a special update of their own.
Cal and his dad had worn matching stunned expressions for a few weeks.
His mom had given birth to Cal early in life, and while she wasn’t the oldest mother in the medical journals, she’d astounded our obstetrician with how easily she’d made it through the pregnancy. I guessed after triplets, anything was easy. And because I didn’t have a doctor of my own, we’d just ended up doing our entire pregnancies together, right down to the office visits.
But my fiancé had a master’s degree in adapting. He happened to have one in Mythology as well. If he ever finished his thesis for his PhD, he’d be a full-fledged doctor too.
But our new little family kept him busy.
Our deep and abiding love for this crazy Victorian house on the lake took up even more time. Cal had made it his mission in life to make all my dreams come true. It was a bit more of a fixer upper than we’d been expecting. There had been a reason the sellers had taken his offer with no questions asked. We’d been renovating it during the majority of my pregnancy, but we were taking a break to enjoy our new little girl’s first year.
That and our daughter had inherited my allergy to plaster dust.
It was just too much misery for one man to take.
The farther I got up the drive, the more I was able to let the stress of the day fade. The salon had been madness. We’d hired two more stylists and a barber. With the unending beard love, men were looking to up their salon game, and we were happy to move with the times.
Going back to work had been hard, but knowing our daughter was in good hands—mostly her dad’s—had made it a little easier to go back part-time. Cal was done with school for the holidays and had decided to bring his class load down to two classes in the new semester.
Painting was taking up more and more of his time. And he liked being home with our baby. She was such a daddy’s girl, she’d probably have a paintbrush in her hands before a crayon. I was okay with it, especially because Cal was just as wrapped around her little finger as I was.
We were spending Christmas Day at the MacGregor farm so we were keeping Christmas Eve for ourselves. I still had a million things to do. I’d been perfecting my lasagna game on Cal’s brothers for the last two weeks. I was pretty sure the last batch in my passenger seat was going to knock my fiancé’s socks off.
It wasn’t that I was a bad cook, I was just very regimented. It wasn’t fun for me. I could create any color in the rainbow on a head of hair, but ask me to be creative with ingredients and I froze. Luc
kily, Callum was a decent cook and even better at ordering take-out.
But it was our first official Christmas together, and I really wanted it to be special. And naked was definitely on the menu for dessert. Especially since our little insomniac had finally learned how to sleep through the night.
Mostly.
I pulled in the circular drive to my spot. A garage was in the future plans, but for now, we still parked outside. Cal’s Supra was tarped and tucked under our carport waiting for spring. He’d wanted to sell it when I’d told him we were pregnant, but I secretly loved that stupid penis mobile.
Surprisingly, his SUV wasn’t here. He must have taken the baby out to do some last-minute shopping.
I grabbed the insulated bag that held my precious lasagna and headed for the front steps. I still couldn’t believe this was our place. I’d managed to get those traditional bulbs for the roofline in the sale of the house. I mean, really, what was the previous owner going to do with them? It was like they were made for the house.
Each bulb was tucked perfectly into the gingerbread lace along the gables and roofline, as well as the trim and corbels. I’d done a staggering amount of research to make sure any outside renovations kept up with the age of the house. Callum had gotten into the deep dive of research—way past me. The professor in him geeked out and found levels of history to our house I didn’t even know how to find.
Then he’d done a painting of the house with me on the porch wearing his white dress shirt for my birthday. He could be very sweet at times. I had a feeling he was working on something else for Christmas. He hadn’t let me in his studio for the last few weeks.
Just as I got to the steps, twin beams of light came up the drive. Cal’s Mazda SUV slowed around our circular drive. He waved at me then parked.
I set the lasagna down on the steps and went to meet him.
He hopped out and I got a little zing. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to how sexy my guy was. He had a gray tweed jacket on over a soft black cashmere sweater and jeans. To accent his professor chic, he was wearing his pageboy hat. It shouldn’t have worked, but I had one hot teacher-slash-artist for a lover. And soon-to-be husband.
“Hey there. I was hoping I’d beat you home.” He drew me in for a quick kiss.
“Well, hello there yourself. You taste like…chocolate.”
There were enough lights on our house to light up a street so I could plainly see the flush rising up his neck. “I had to pick up a few last-minute presents. Faith and I had a date at the diner.”
“You had Greta’s chocolate cream pie, didn’t you?”
He held up a finger. “I did. But…” He leaned back into the SUV and pulled out a bag. “I brought a whole pie home for Christmas.”
“Okay. Forgiven.” I took the bag and peeked inside. “Anything else for me in there?”
“Different bag and not until tomorrow.”
“Mean.”
He grinned at me. Then the piercing scream of our daughter tried to shatter glass. He crossed his eyes and put his other bags down. He opened the door to the backseat. “Faith Mistletoe MacGregor, what is your malfunction?”
I laughed and peeked around the window to wiggle my fingers at Faith. “Hello, love. Are you giving your daddy trouble?”
“Only because she’s not the center of attention for five seconds.”
Faith giggled and grabbed Cal’s beard.
“Ouch.” He untwisted her fingers and finally got the five point harness undone. Just like a champ, he had her swaddled into the blanket we always kept in the car. Coats and carseats didn’t work anymore with all the new laws.
I flipped back the edge of the blanket so she could see me. “Boo.”
Faith’s laugh bubbled out along with some drool. I had a feeling teething was going to be in our future sooner rather than later. Cal hiked her onto his shoulder and grabbed her bag, handing it off to me.
Weighed down with all our bags, we trudged up to the front steps.
“What’s this?” He pointed at the insulated container on the porch.
“Nothing.”
“Hmm.” He gave me a narrow-eyed look and opened the door for me.
Before I could get through the door, he gave me a quick, hot kiss.
He glanced up at the mistletoe.
“That’s new.” I couldn’t stop the smile even as Faith howled out her disgust at being bundled up.
“Okay, okay. I’m moving as fast as I can.” We headed inside and Cal whipped off her blanket and slung it on the couch. “I may have put a few decorations up.”
I automatically picked up the blanket and folded it. “We have decorations everywhere.”
“Yeah, just a few.” He bounced Faith a few times to get her giggling again as he undid her sweater.
I glanced at the archways to each room from the foyer. There were lit up bows of evergreen tacked up with a little dangling bit of mistletoe for each. “Really?”
“What? It’s the Christmas spirit.”
“You don’t need an excuse to kiss me, sir.”
“No, but I don’t mind the extra bonus kisses.” He picked up two of the shopping bags and dropped them by the tree.
I followed, picking up the baby things he’d left laying around. Before we got into the kitchen, he swung me around into his arms with Faith. He planted a kiss on Faith’s ruddy cheeks then one on my laughing mouth.
“Did you eat?” He went right for the fridge and took out a bottle for Faith. We had a nice schedule down for her, and it seemed to help her sleeping habits.
Callum was a very good father. Between the research he’d done—books on baby to childhood development littered our bedroom and another dozen were scattered in his office—and his precise schedule, we had a damn happy baby on our hands.
And a happy mom. I didn’t worry about leaving him alone with her. Callum had stepped up and then some. His studio was a study in chaos, but when it came to our baby, he was as organized as…well, a teacher.
Guess I’d gotten the best of both worlds there.
I picked up the cap from the bottle and put it in the sterilizer. Well, some things were still chaos. And personally, the fact that he wasn’t perfect was a relief. I certainly wasn’t.
He’d settled with the baby at the kitchen table. He propped up her bottle with his thumb and took off his hat, tossing it on the table. “Did you want to feed her?”
I moved to kiss her goose-down fluffy blond curls then threaded my fingers through his wild hat hair. “Nah, you guys are all settled. I’ll just put some stuff away.”
He snagged the loop on my jeans and dragged me back. He lifted his chin toward the holly berries mixed with mistletoe hanging from the chandelier. “Pay your toll first.”
I bent down and kissed him softly. “How many of these do you have in the house?”
“A few.”
I rolled my eyes, but I had a feeling I’d enjoy the hunt after Faith went to bed.
Domestic chores took up the rest of our evening. Laundry, bath time, and Callum’s favorite part of the night—story time.
I looked in on them in the rocking chair in Faith’s room. It was one of the smaller rooms in the house, but right next door to ours. It was painted a soft lavender with ash furniture in a pale sandy color. We’d put up a small pre-lit tree in her room on her dresser. There was an ornament from each of her uncles hanging up, as well as her grandma and grandpa. Even her new aunt Cara had sent an ornament for her tree.
New traditions—just for our little family.
It was pretty amazing.
I was happy to see there was no mistletoe in her room. It was poisonous, after all. And knowing Cal, all the mistletoe in the house was probably silk, just to be safe.
But Faith was definitely in the ‘put everything in her mouth’ phase. Right now, it was the corner of her Llama Lovey’s tail from Paisley. I watched them for a little while longer then sneaked away to shower off the day.
When I returned to our room, the
lights were turned on low, and candles were flickering all over the room. The Christmas tree was lit up in our triple window, and the fireplace was crackling. I expected Cal to be lounging on the bed waiting for me, but the room was empty.
In the corner, just beyond the tree, was one of Cal’s easels.
Did I know him or what?
A canvas was wrapped in kraft paper with a massive red bow.
There was something different about the room. I looked around, and finally landed on the paintings over our headboard. There was usually three hung up there. The triptych Cal had painted of me. I still wasn’t used to seeing my form on a canvas, but I was getting used to seeing myself through his eyes.
The first painting was the altered version of his drawing with my red scarf. Now I was wearing a man’s white dress shirt, teasing innocence and a hint of all the curves he loved to draw.
The second painting was a bit more wild. My hair looked as if I’d just spent the night making love. Instead of being buttoned, this shirt showed more than it hid, and my chin was lifted, my eyes defiant and hooded with knowledge.
The third was softer. I was rounder with my baby-filled belly peeking from the shirt. The cuffs were rolled up, and my engagement ring sparkled on my left hand.
I glanced down at my ring and thumbed the underside of the band to straighten it. The icy diamond was in an antique setting with a starburst shape of smaller diamonds surrounding it. Callum never did anything small.
A hand slid along my hip. Cal’s cedar scent surrounded me just before his arms did. His slightly rough fingers slipped inside my robe to trace over my waist. “Our princess is finally asleep.”
“Must have been right after I left. You’ve been busy.”
“I pulled out most of the stuff earlier. Just stashed it in the closet.” He kissed my neck. “I know we have tomorrow as our day with Faith, but I couldn’t wait any longer to give you your present.”
I covered his hand with my left one. “I’ve been thinking about yours too.”
He tucked his chin on my shoulder. “Oh? Is it under this robe?”
“Kinda.”
