Page 16 of Viking’s Naughty Elf

The following Christmas.

Christmas morning has always just been me and Pops for as long as I can remember. We spend it cooking, cleaning up, visiting a few families who might be in need of something, and relaxing and reminiscing around the fire. For years, that was how we spent our holidays.

This year, however, bustles with family. Chloe’s sister, Ema, her husband, and their four kids arrived a few days ago for the third time this year. They came for the wedding in January and again in the summer to help build the addition to the cabin while the weather was good.

Chloe and Ema are thriving as mothers, and after Sebastian told me everything that happened with his wife before they met, I’m glad both women are happy.

Children carefully rip through their presents now as my father tries to maintain some kind of stability and ensure everyone has a present to open at the same time. He’s not fast enough for these kids, though.

Ema gushes over the infant my wonderful wife brought into the world three weeks ago, and Sebastian attempts to make the huge breakfast his wife left him to conquer on his own.

“Need a hand?” I offer, and the other man grins in acceptance.

“How do such small people eat this damn much?” he mutters as he pulls out a third pan of bacon from the oven.

“Endless energy?” I supply.

From our first meeting, Sebastian and I became good friends. We talk often and find amusement in comparing our wives’ silly quirks. For people living on two different continents, our families have navigated the challenges well. Their children quickly started calling me uncle and my father grandpa after he told them he’d love that.

Chloe’s article was published in the spring and won a few writing and historical awards for accuracy and dedication to discovering more than what was offered thus far. She’s now working on a book about my ancestry and has a publisher chewing at the bit to get their hands on it.

I never imagined that when this sprite of a woman showed up a year ago, this would be our life, but she’s turned my world upside down in the best way. We still take time for ourselves to remember that we’re more than providers for those in need, more than parents and caretakers.

We’re friends and lovers, first and always.

Once breakfast is set out on the table, buffet style, everyone allows me to grab a plate for Chloe before they begin piling their own up high.

Sitting next to my wife as she feeds our son, Leif, I don’t hesitate to drop a kiss on her lips and then his head before offering a slice of bacon.

The moan she lets out makes my dick twitch, and I groan. “Keep that up, woman, and you’re going to make me a mess.”She giggles and takes another bite, holding in any sexual sounds this time.

“This has been a wonderful holiday, right?” She’s emotional, and when the tears enter her eyes, I can tell they’re happy ones, but I fight my panic anyway.

“The best I’ve ever had,” I reply honestly.

I breathe a sigh of relief when she smiles. “Next year, we’ll go to Alaska to spend it withthem?” She’s asking, but she damn well knows I’ll do whatever she wants. “Bring Pops, too.”

“Couldn’t leave him alone after this year if we wanted to.” I laugh, watching the old man help the younger kids with their plates so their parents can have a break. There’s a new life in his eyes, and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.

All because this woman asked to have my babies.

EPILOGUE

CHLOE

Six Years Later.

Hands over my eyes, I try not to watch as my nephew Damien holds my son Leif’s hand tightly as they jump into the lake for the Polar Plunge in my hometown, Polar Bear. Rune holds me against his chest as the boys make a splash and pop right back up to get helped out by the volunteers.

This is Leif’s first year participating without Rune, and like Ema was all those years ago with Damien, I’ve been a bundle of nerves.

“Mom, did you see? I did it!” He’s so damn proud of it, too.

“You were amazing, baby!” I pull him in for a tight hug as he shivers behind his blanket. Rune guides us over to the warming tents, where the boys get to put their clothes back on and grab some hot chocolate.

“How did they grow up so fast?” Ema whispers next to me as our boys dash off to the market to start their shopping for their little sisters. Because Damien is so much older, I know Leif will be in good hands.

“We blinked, and they sprung up.” I laugh as I push my sleeping two-year-old, Tyra, named after her grandmother, towards where Erik sits with CJ, eating apple pie. The twins are off with Sebastian, shopping for the rest of the ingredients we’ll need for Christmas dinner.

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