Page 17 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“And we’re still trying to figure it all out. We’re learning every day as foster dads. So much,” he says.

“Well, the fact that Dario is so well provided for is a clear sign that you care about him,” I reply, giving Waylan a soft nod. “And you’re doing something incredible by taking him in after losing his parents.”

Waylan comes closer, a deep shadow crossing his gray blue eyes.

Too close.

Sebastian is already holding me.

Riggs watches with keen interest as Waylan reaches us. His gaze wanders up and down my figure, and I feel self-conscious. My thoughts have melted away. I feel safe leaning into Sebastian, his hand resting on my hip, just underneath the hem of my jacket.

“You’re doing something equally incredible too, Cora,” Waylan says. He brings a hand up and touches my cheek with his bare knuckles. I hold my breath, not wanting this strange, exhilarating moment to end. “From the minute we met you, we understood how special you are. You may not see it yet, but wedo.”

“You do?”

“It’s written in your eyes,” Waylan inches closer.

Sebastian’s fingers dig into my hip. I inhale sharply, and it’s all Waylan needs to lean in and plant a quick but effective kiss on my lips. I’m speechless, my cheeks burning as I realize that both Sebastian and Riggs are totally okay with what’s happening.

Waylan pulls back and gives me a reassuring smile. “We share everything in this house, in this life.”

Oh.

Oh.

What do I say to that?

My blood is racing, red-hot and simmering. My dirty mind wanders back into the forbidden recesses of my imagination as I take these words to mean precisely what they’re supposed to mean. Sebastian kissed me. Waylan kissed me. Riggs looks as though he’d want to do a hell of a lot more.

And I would probably be unable and unwilling to refuse.

“I’d love to see Dario’s room,” I blurt out.

I don’t know whether to be proud of myself or just embarrassed for having ruined the single most exciting moment of my existence.

“Sure,” Riggs says with a playful smile teasing his lips again.

I nod slowly as Waylan and Sebastian take a step back, their eyes never leaving mine as I head for the door. I can feel themfollowing me, giving me a strange sense of comfort.

We find Dario at his drawing table by the window, having a hard time choosing the right color for a landscape.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, moving closer. “How’s it going?”

The boy gives me a broad smile but doesn’t move away from the table. “I’m drawing you a picture. Waylan says you need pictures for your walls.”

“Oh, that is so sweet! And Waylan is right, I do need pictures for my walls. Goodness gracious, that’s a really beautiful drawing.”

Inching even closer, I notice that the kid’s got a keen eye for dimension in his drawings. There’s raw talent here aplenty, waiting to be nurtured. His sense of color is also remarkably advanced for a boy his age.

“Yeah, I’m doing the backyard. Did you see it?” he asks, looking over to the window.

I follow his gaze and I am mesmerized. From the upper floor, I can see not only the splendid backyard with its ancestral oaks and maple trees guarding the four corners of the wrought iron fence, but I can also see the rolling hills beyond, flowing dark green and brown under a clear blue sky. It’s late autumn now, and most of the trees are shedding their crowns, awaiting the crispness of winter, but it is still a gorgeous view.

“It’s wonderful,” I tell him. “But honestly, I like your drawing better.”

He gives me a surprised and cheery look. “Really?”

“Oh, definitely. I love how you keep everything green, even though it’s autumn.”

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