Page 52 of Christmas in Paradise

I send up a Hail Mary, praying another car won’t come down the street. She keeps running, and the closer I get I realize she’s afraid of the doggy bag thing “chasing” her. My chasing isn’t helping either, so I slow down.

“Uncle Rad,” I call as calmly as I can. “Come here, girl. Come to Daddy.”

I’ve never thought of myself as her daddy, but it seems appropriate here. I’m absolutely terrified she’s going to get hurt.

But she starts to slow, which means the doggy bag’s bouncing also slows. Then she stops and turns in circles.

I use my calmest voice as I walk to her until I’m finally able to scoop her into my arms. “You’re okay,” I coo—that’s what it’s called when you talk to a baby, right? Cooing?—and carry her back to my house.

Hope stands there with Charly in her arms, patting her back. The sight of her is both comforting and scary. There’s not enough light to see much more than her dark outline.

“That was exciting,” she says when I get close. She doesn’t sound mad.

“I’m so sorry. One second, she was holding my hand, the next second she wasn’t. And then there was a car coming, and—” My throat tightens, and I stop.

“It’s okay, Seb. She’s okay.” Hope takes her hand from Charly’s back long enough to squeeze mine.

I nod, catching my breath again.

But the fear still circles my brain, filling it with what-ifs.

What if I hadn’t gotten to Charly in time and the car hadn’t turned? What if it were the middle of the day when this street is busier? What if Uncle Rad had been hit?

That’s the thing with adding more people—and animals—to your circle of love. The what-if’s increase exponentially.

And looking at Hope and Charly both, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

Chapter 16

Hope

I follow Seb into the house through the mudroom. He hangs up his coat, and I don’t miss the trembling in his hands as he takes Charly’s coat from me. The trembling is still there when he puts Uncle Rad in her crate.

I understand how he feels. I’m hiding how scared I still am too.

The car wasn’t close. Charly was safe—I knew she was by my door. But moments like that one always remind me what little control I have as a mother. The thing I want most in the world is for Charly to be safe and happy. It’s also the thing I know is impossible.

Not only impossible but would be bad for her. Danger and sadness are a part of life. Without them, she won’t know what being safe and happy is.

So, while I do as much as I can to keep her safe and make sure she’s happy, I do it knowing at times I’ll fail. That’s the hardest thing about being a mom. There’s no way to plan for every contingency or do it perfectly. There are only occasional moments of perfection that pass all too quickly. And they’re never planned.

Like when I pulled up to Gia’s and saw Charly holding Seb’s hand. An image of what my family could look like flashed before me. Not necessarily with Seb filling the role of husband and father, but someone who will treat Charly as tenderly as he was in that moment.

Charly and I will be fine if that “perfect” family never happens. But that doesn’t mean I’ll give up hope that it could.

And I’m not going to lie, seeing Seb rush to protect Charly has me looking at him differently. Because a man who doesn’t care about kids or who isn’t interested in being a father doesn’t do a running leap onto the hood of a car and slide across it on his butt to save a kid who’s not really in danger.

The Seb I saw do that has meveryinterested in being the woman he doesn’t want to give up on. Not only because he rushed to protect my baby, but also because he looked damn sexy doing it. And that image is not leaving my head any time soon.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” I ask him as he holds the door for Charly and me to pass into the kitchen, which smells heavenly.

“Do what?”

“The hood slide.”

“Oh. That…”

“Hood slide?” Gia sticks a pan in the oven and slams the door shut. “Is that what you were doing out there? You better not have put another dent in my hood.”

---