Page 18 of Dad Bod's Daring December

Edward glances over, his expression softening as he sees the mess in my hands. “They’re… perfect,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes.

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me.”

“This place wouldn’t feel like Christmas without you and your... creativity.” He grins as he plates the steaks and sets them on the table. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Perfect timing,” I reply, setting the mangled ribbon aside and popping the scissors in my pocket.

Dinner passes in a quiet rhythm of conversation and soft laughter. Edward tells me about how the frost has delayed some of the winter prep on the farm, how his helper, Nate, injured his hand last week but still insisted on hauling feed. I love that his life is steady, rooted, and real in a way I’ve never known.

Later, curled up on the couch under a blanket, we settle in to watch a Christmas movie. The TV screen flickers, casting a cozy glow over the room. Edward’s arm rests along the back of the couch, his fingers combing through my hair as if he can’t bear not to touch me in some way.

“I don’t need anything for Christmas,” he murmurs suddenly, his voice low and rough with emotion. His head tilts toward me, his gaze steady but vulnerable. “I have you, and that’s all I want.”

My chest tightens as a wave of emotion threatens to spill over. “You’re all I want too,” I say softly, turning to meet his eyes. “All I need.”

For a moment, the world outside seems far away, nothing but a distant hum. The glow of the Christmas lights, the soft murmur of the TV, and Edward’s steady presence create a sanctuary I never want to leave.

Then, the world shatters.

The door slams open with a deafening crack, wood splintering under the force of a heavy boot. I jolt upright, my heart pounding as the warm safety of the moment dissolves into chaos.

“Edward!” I gasp, gripping his arm as two figures storm into the room.

Razor leads the charge, his wiry frame cloaked in a leather jacket, a predatory grin curling his lips. Behind him is a larger man, broad and menacing, his eyes scanning the room with cold calculation.

“Evening, Eddie,” Razor drawls, his voice sharp and mocking. He raises a hand in a mock salute, the glint of a gun catching the light.“Hope we’re not interrupting.”

“Get behind me,” Edward murmurs, his voice low and firm. He shifts, positioning himself between me and the intruders.

“What do you want, Razor?” Edward demands, his tone steady despite the tension rolling off him.

Razor chuckles, the sound jagged and grating. “What do I want? You already know the answer to that, Eddie. See, my girl wants you gone. Clean slate and all that. I told her you’d see sense eventually. Turns out, you’re more stubborn than I gave you credit for.”

Edward moves forward, his broad frame blocking Razor from taking another step into the room. “I’m not leaving,” he says evenly, his voice calm but firm. “Rebecca made her choice. Now she gets to live with it.”

“That so?” Razor asks, cocking his head. “See, that’s where we have a problem. You don’t belong here anymore, Eddie. And ifyou’re not smart enough to leave on your own, maybe I’ll help you along.”

“You think this little stunt is going to scare me off?” Edward’s voice hardens, a sharp edge creeping in. “You’re wasting your fucking time.”

The larger man steps forward, his gaze shifting to me. “Maybe we focus on what Eddie’s got to lose.”

“Don’t,” Edward growls, his stance shifting slightly, his hands curling into fists. The air in the room crackles with tension, a standoff poised to erupt. “Leave her out of this. It has nothing to do with her.”

“Everything you care about has to do with this,” Razor snaps. “And that makes her fair game.”

The larger man moves closer, his movements slow and deliberate, a clear show of force.

Edward tenses. Controlled energy radiates from him, a silent promise of protection. “Let her leave. This is between us.”

Razor’s grin widens. “Oh, I don’t think so. Your little girlfriend here? She’s part of the problem now. You dragged her into this, Eddie, and now she’s gotta face the consequences.”

“Razor,” Edward says, his tone hardening, “don’t do this.”

But Razor isn’t listening. He lifts the gun slightly, a pointed gesture that sends a cold spike of fear through me. “You should’ve left while you could, Eddie. Now, we’ve got ourselves a situation.”

Before I can react, the larger man grabs my arm in a bruising grip. I cry out, struggling against him, but his strength is overwhelming.

“Take your fucking hands off her!” Edward’s shout rings out, his voice raw with anger. He lunges toward me, but Razor raises the gun, stopping him in his tracks.

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