Page 209 of Filthy Rich Santas

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion.

“Say ‘thank you,’ dear,” Meg whispers, patting my hand.

I laugh. “Thank you. That doesn’t even feel big enough, but…”

The reality of their gift is sinking in, and I’m overwhelmed not just by their support, but by the knowledge of what they’ve given up.

“Didn’t we say no ‘buts’?” Ryder teases gently.

I nod, then shake my head and take a breath. “But… the new nightclub. You can’t just give it up. That was your future. I don’t want to take that away from you.”

Tristan shakes his head, his eyes soft. “No, freckles.You’reour future.”

“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper, my voice shaky with emotion.

Ryder takes my hand, his thumb tracing my knuckles. “Of course we did. When you love someone, you want to see all their dreams come true.”

I smile through happy tears, wiping at my cheeks as happiness swells in my chest. “They already have.”

Beckett grins. “That just means you get to dreambiggernow, little menace. And we’ll be right beside you for it.”

“Damn,” Caleb grumbles, waving his hand at the four of us as he tries to fight a smile. “You guys are making it kind of hard to have a problem with all this.”

“A problem with what, Uncle Caleb?” Oliver asks, looking up from the game he’s playing with Baldwin.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Vivian murmurs, giving me a warm smile that’s mirrored on Meg’s face. “He’s just being silly.”

Beckett catches a tear that’s clinging from my lashes, and the joy inside me bubbles up and spills over all at once. I kiss him, pouring all my love and gratitude into it.

“I take it back,” I hear Caleb grouch good-naturally. And then, when Beckett lets me go and I turn to do the same with Ryder, then Tristan, he gives an exaggerated groan, swinging Oliver up in his arms and covering Oliver’s eyes with his hands. “Don’t look, squirt. Lana is sitting under too much mistletoe.”

Oliver tugs Caleb’s hands down, looking up at the empty ceiling above me with an adorably confused expression. “I don’t see any mistletoe, Uncle Caleb.”

“They don’t need any,” Vivian says warmly. “Some things are magical all on their own.”

49

LANA

The morningafter Christmas is crisp and clear, with a fresh layer of snow blanketing the world outside Grandma Meg’s cozy guest house. As we prepare to leave, a bittersweet feeling settles in my chest. This Christmas has been magical, but it also includes a rift with my parents that I don’t regret, but which aches all the same.

I pull Grandma Meg into a tight hug, breathing in the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla that seems to cling to her. “Thank you so much for everything,” I murmur.

She pats my back affectionately. “Of course, dear. You’re welcome here anytime.” As we pull apart, she winks mischievously. “In fact, I hope to see a lot more of you now that you’re in a relationship with my grandson.”

I laugh, glancing over at Tristan, who’s not even trying to hide his smile.

“I promise we’ll keep in touch,” I assure her.

Baldwin trots over, his latest hand-knit sweater making him look like a tiny, adorable reindeer. He yaps excitedly, showering me with sweet puppy kisses as I kneel to say goodbye.

Then I stand and turn to my men, who have finished their own farewells with Grandma Meg. It’s time to go collect the rest of our things from my parents’ house before we get back on the road and head back to L.A.

“Ready?” Tristan asks softly, reaching for my hand.

I nod, lacing my fingers with his. “As I’ll ever be.”

We pile into the SUV, waving goodbye to Grandma Meg as we pull out of her driveway. As familiar streets pass by, I feel a knot forming in my stomach. I have no idea what kind of reception awaits us at my childhood home. Will my parents have calmed down? Will they even let us in?

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