Page 118 of Miami Ice

And I can’t wait to hard launch at Sofia’s tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Six

We’ve made it.

I feel relief sweep through me as Beckham leads me up the sidewalk to the home he’s rented for Sofia and Aaron. We’re in Miami Beach, at our last official function of Thanksgiving.

Dessert with his family.

I have Winston on his leash, and he follows Beckham up the sidewalk. I hold the Mason jar filled with flowers in my other arm and think about how this dinner is going to be so different. No drunk people sleeping on the floor. No sibling fights. No confrontations with a parent.

No turkey with boobs served with a side of trash-can gravy, either.

Just dessert. With normal people.

And I cannot wait.

Beckham knocks on the door, and soon I hear the sounds of the twins on the other side.

“It’s Uncle Beckham!” one of them cries cheerfully.

I smile at him. “You’re so loved by those girls.”

He almost appears sheepish about the compliment. “They’re too young to know better.”

“No. They are smart enough to know exactly who is worthy of their love,” I say softly.

Beckham looks as if he’s about to say something, but another little voice on the other side of the door breaks through the silence. “I want Elsa hair!”

“No, girls, do not ask Georgie to do your hair,” Aaron warns. “She is a guest and here to eat dessert with us. Not to do your hair.”

“She can do it after she has a cookie,” one of the twins suggests helpfully.

Beckham grins at me. “I underestimated the power of the braid.”

Before I can answer, Aaron opens the door. Stella and Lucy fly forward, both of them attaching themselves to Beckham’s legs. “Happy Thanksgiving,” Aaron says, smiling warmly at us.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Beckham says as he scoops one of the twins up in his arms. “Did you eat lots of turkey, Stella?”

“Yes! And mashed potatoes!” she adds happily.

“Mashed potatoes are the best,” Beckham declares.

“Look at the doggie!” Lucy declares excitedly at the sight of Winston. “He’s so cute!”

“Don’t touch the dog yet, Lucy,” Aaron quickly instructs. “Georgie has to say it’s okay first. We always ask first if we can pet a dog.”

“He’s very gentle and friendly,” I say. I kneel down and unclip his leash, and Beckham puts Stella down and kneels down next to her and Lucy. “You can pet him like this,” I say, showing Lucy and Stella how Winston likes to be petted. I demonstrate lightly petting his back and they eagerly follow suit, squealing in delight as Winston’s tail swishes happily from all the attention.

Once they’ve petted Winston, their attention goes straight back to Beckham.

“Pick me up! Me!” Lucy demands, putting her hands on his leg.

“Georgie, pick me up!” Stella chimes in, thrusting her hands up in the air for me so I can grab her.

“Girls, girls, settle down,” Sofia says, smiling as she walks up.

“I’ll pick you up in just a moment, Stella,” I promise. I turn to Sofia. “These are for you.” I give her the Mason jar filled with flowers.

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