Page 103 of Claimed by my Bestie's Dad

“Me? I’m not the only person who will be there.”

“No, but your vote counts for two.” I lay a hand on her stomach and rub it a little, half-hoping the baby might choose that moment to move. But I know the baby is still too tiny for me to feel movements. There’s still a tiny part of me that hopes, though.

“Well, then, baby and I vote for stuffing. I’m still thinking about Thanksgiving stuffing. I think because the baby was created just after Thanksgiving, it seems to want stuffing all the time.”

I laugh. “Stuffing is easy. I can make that happen.” I lean over and kiss her head. “Now, I’d love to stay here in bed with you all day, but I know the dogs wouldn’t be happy about that. I’ll take care of them. You eat.”

I hop out of bed and go to deal with the dogs before heading to my last shift before Christmas. If I can pull this Christmas Eve dinner off just right, then Madison and our families will be able to come together. Maybe the happily ever after we’ve been hoping for isn’t so impossible after all.

50

MADISON

I smoothmy hands down the front of my dress for what feels like the hundredth time, my heart racing with excitement and nerves. Christmas Eve dinner—it feels like so much more than just a holiday meal tonight. It feels like the start of something new.

Ethan and I are a couple, and we have been officially for almost two weeks now. But…it’s one thing to know you are a couple and another for people to see it. Surprisingly, Aurora is coming. Wesley is too, but that isn’t such a surprise.

I glance around the dining room at Ethan’s house, the soft glow of candlelight reflecting off the plates and silverware. The table looks perfect, just the way I imagined it, and the smell of Ethan’s turkey wafts in from the kitchen.

If I close my eyes for a moment, it feels like I might be walking around in a dream—a perfect dream. The smell of turkey and stuffing makes it feel like it might be a delicious dream.

The surf school still has a lot of work that needs to be done before I open it up, but I have a few months to get that done. I’ve been impressed with just the differentatmosphere that a coat of paint can make. I can’t wait to show it off to my friends and family.

The doorbell rings, and I jump. Nerves start running through my body as I realize that this is it. This is either Wesley or Aurora.

Ethan appears in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room and runs a hand through his short salt-and-pepper hair. “Do you want me to get it?”

“I… I can… I mean, it’s your house, but you’re cooking. I can answer the door.”

Ethan blows me a kiss, then disappears back into the kitchen. I unsteadily approach the front door, but then, I see Wesley’s outline through the beveled glass and instantly feel a bit better.

I answer the door, and Wesley grins at me. “This is a step up above your usual.” He glances behind me. “You didn’t bring Samson over?”

“He has to babysit the other dogs I’m taking care of.”

Wesley shakes his head. “How’s he doing? Stitches healing okay?”

“He acts like he was never injured. He thinks I’m a big baby for looking out for him and still applying the anti-infection cream. Come on in.”

Wesley steps in and embraces me tightly before looking around the house. “So, this is the guy, huh? The father of…” he glances pointedly at my stomach.

“Yeah.”

“Never would have guessed. But hey, I’m happy for you.”

That’s Wesley. Completely non-judgmental and happy with whatever way life goes. “But if I need a loan, you’ll hand over some cash, right?” Wesley stage whispers.

I laugh harder than necessary. Because that’s how it all started, me approaching Ethan for a loan.

Ethan appears in the doorway wearing a black apron, and he smiles at Wesley. They shake hands, and Wesley starts making jokes about me. I don’t mind being the brunt of their jokes. At least Wesley isn’t acting awkward.

In fact, he’s almost acting normal. Well, normal for him.

“Let’s go sit in the living room,” I suggest. I feel exhausted even though Ethan is the one who’s been getting everything ready. All I did was set the table.

Wesley selects an armchair across from me, and I lounge on the couch. “Give me a second to check on the turkey,” Ethan says, heading out of the room.

I make eye contact with Wesley again, and he just shakes his head. He suddenly looks alarmed when he fixes his gaze on the Christmas tree that has wrapped packages underneath. “Was I supposed to bring gifts? For this guy?”

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