Page 18 of Dad Bod Secret Santa

Caught off guard, I can only manage a shrug. “Well, I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“Great!” she says, already reaching for the phone as if my approval were a mere formality. “Wendy’s probably awake by now.”

I shake my head, unable to hide a smile as I watch her eagerly wait for Wendy to answer the phone. She’s not wrong—having them here would be…well, it’d be perfect. And even though I’ve been telling myself that a little distance might help me figure out these feelings, the idea of seeing Maggie today makes me happy.

Vivian paces, phone to her ear, and I hear Wendy’s muffled laughter on the other end. The girls are giggling, and my curiosity spikes. I raise an eyebrow at Vivian, who pretends notto notice. But then her tone shifts, going soft and polite. It only takes a second to realize she’s talking to Maggie.

Anticipation tugs at my chest, and when Vivian walks over, holding the phone out to me, my pulse stumbles. “Maggie wants to talk to you,” she says, her eyes bright.

I take the phone, trying to sound casual. “Hey, Maggie. Merry Christmas.”

There’s a pause, and then I hear her voice, soft and warm, carrying that familiar smile I can picture so clearly. “Merry Christmas, Hank.” She hesitates, like she’s not quite sure how to say what’s on her mind, then continues. “The girls are pretty insistent that we spend Christmas together. That is, if you two don’t have other plans and it wouldn’t be an imposition. I do have a gift for you.”

My heart expands with adoration as I listen to her. Part of me loves how she’s shy but also forthright. It also touches me deeply that she has a gift for me. She owes me nothing, but I appreciate the gesture all the same.

“You two are more than welcome here, as I hope you know. Just bring yourselves—I have everything we need.”

The pause on the other end stretches a little longer, and I can almost see her smile. “Alright, then. We’ll see you soon.”

I hang up, and a weight I didn’t know I was holding is lifted. Vivian skips through the house, too thrilled to sit still.

Christmas just got better.

When I finally hear thecrunch of tires on the gravel outside, I don’t think; I just move, opening the door before they even knock. There they are, standing on the porch with snowflakes dusting their hair, arms full of packages, cheeks rosy from the cold. The sight of them fills me with joy.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face as I take them in. “Come on in.” I step aside to let them pass.

Wendy hurries past me to see Vivian. I hear them exchanging stories about their gifts and then exchanging gifts they got for each other. Maggie’s eyes meet mine, and for a second, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, suddenly feeling formal—like she and Wendy didn’t stay here for a week.

“I’m okay, thanks.” Her smile holds so much promise that my heart is ready to burst from how much I want her in my arms and permanently in my life.

“Here,” she says softly, holding out a box wrapped in simple, neat paper with a sprig of pine tucked under the ribbon. “This is for you.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” I give her a warm smile. “I have something for you, too.”

She gives me a quick, surprised smile, her eyes sparkling in the way they do when she’s caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”

“Trust me,” I say, glancing down at the box. “I wanted to.”

We settle by the tree, the girls tearing into their gifts nearby, laughing and talking so fast I can barely understand them.

Carefully, I undo the ribbon and lift the lid, revealing a soft wool sweater in deep forest green with blue highlights. It’s the perfect gift.

“Do you like it?” Maggie asks, her voice tender, almost hesitant.

“Like it? Maggie, I love it. Thank you.” I pull it on over my shirt and it fits perfectly.

She watches me, relief softening her expression, an open tenderness in her eyes that makes my heart thump in my chest. “I’m glad,” she says quietly.

I nod toward the tree, getting up to retrieve her gift from my room. When I return, I hold out my gift to Maggie and watch as she opens it carefully. She gasps when she sees the jewelry box, her eyes glistening as she traces the carved lid of the box.

“Oh, Hank,” she says, her voice wavering. “This is too much. It’s so beautiful.”

I smile. “Nonsense. I made this for you, including carving the lid.”

“Oh, Hank,” she repeats, her gaze shifting from the box to me.

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