Page 54 of Filthy Rich Santas

It takes me another minute or two of going back and forth before she finally lets me be, and I set my phone back down on the counter and decide to leave it there as I head back out into the suite.

If she really needs to say anything else to me tonight… well, it can wait.

I pull the luxurious robe around me more tightly and step into the living room just as Beckett returns to the room. He pauses by the door, brushing some snow off his shoulders and the oversized paper bag he’s carrying.

“Did you grab my charger?” Tristan asks.

Beckett nods, fishing it out of his pocket and tossing it to him.

Ryder jerks his chin toward the bag. “What else did you get?”

“Went to that bakery we passed.”

Ryder’s eyebrows go up. “We passed a bakery?”

Tristan nods, following Beckett to the table as Beckett sets down the bag and carefully pulls a drink carrier out with four steaming travel cups in it. “It was on the corner a couple blocks back. With all the Christmas lights. You didn’t see that?”

Ryder shrugs.

“I walked over,” Beckett informs us, pulling a take-out box from the bag, then folding the bag flat and setting it aside. He glances at me, his lips tilting up ever so slightly on one side. “Just like being in a snow globe.”

That startles a laugh out of me, and something warm and a little bit wonderful spreads through my chest.

“Colder than one, though,” I whisper.

Beckett grunts, then hands me one of the travel cups. “Yeah, but this will warm you up. Peppermint hot chocolate, right?”

I nod as I take it, that warmth inside me starting to glow.

Ryder pops open the take-out box, then grins up at me. “And Christmas cookies!”

“Gingerbread ones?” I ask, a little stunned.

“Frosted,” Ryder confirms, shoving one into his mouth with a grin as Beckett gazes down at me.

His handsome face is ruddy from the cold, and I reach up to rest one of my hands on his cold cheek, my other hand warmed all the way through from the drink he went out of his way to get.

“You didn’t have to do that. You’re freezing.”

“Winter will do that. But someone told me that it just makes things feel more warm and cozy inside.”

I’mdefinitely feeling warm and cozy inside, and for a moment, I can’t look away. It’s not just that he remembered what I said, and it’s not even the unexpected thoughtfulness of Beckett going out of his way to fulfill one of my favorite holiday memories.

It’s howseenI feel.

“Peppermint hot chocolate, huh?” Tristan says, pulling one of the cups out of the travel carrier and sniffing it.

Beckett chuckles, pulling my hand from his face and giving it a quick squeeze before turning back to Tristan. “Not for you. One of them should be that Chai shit you like.”

Tristan grins as Ryder turns on the gas fireplace, and we all settle in to eat the treats Beckett brought back for us. It really is cozy, and as I curl up on the couch and listen to the three of them tease each other with the familiarity of lifelong friends—including me in their banter as naturally as breathing—it hits me that I’m happier than I can remember being in a long time.

And a little bit nostalgic, too… even if it’s more of a wistful longing for the happy future I used to dream of than actual memories of Christmases past.

“These are almost as good as the ones Grandma Meg makes,” Tristan groans as I relax into the plush couch.

He holds up a gingerbread man currently missing its left leg.

“You’d better not let her hear you say that.” Ryder chuckles as Tristan bites the right leg off too. “Remember that year she made a whole batch with their heads missing?”

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