Page 59 of All of Me

“Deal.”

We finish arranging the gifts, the glow of the tree lights reflecting off the shiny wrapping paper. Callie steps back, her hands on her hips as she surveys our work.

“It looks good,” she says, a hint of pride in her voice.

“It looks perfect,” I correct, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She leans her head against my shoulder, and for a moment, everything feels still and right. The chaos of the day melts away, leaving just us and the quiet magic of the night.

I lean down, brushing a kiss against her temple. She tilts her head up, her eyes meeting mine in the dim light of the Christmas tree. Her warm, mischievous gaze pulls me in completely.

“You know,” she says, her voice dropping, “it’s been a while since we had a little time to ourselves.”

I smirk, tightening my arm around her waist. “Are you suggesting we do something other than fall asleep on the couch?”

She laughs, her fingers playing with the collar of my shirt. “I’m suggesting we make the most of this moment before one of the kids wakes up.”

I don’t need more encouragement. I lift her effortlessly into my arms, and she squeals softly, smacking my shoulder.

“Owen! You’re going to wake the kids!”

“Not if we’re quiet,” I tease, carrying her to the couch and setting her down gently. “You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?”

She pulls me down with her, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s soft at first but quickly deepens. My hand slides to her waist, her warmth seeping through the fabric of her sweater as I trace lazy circles with my thumb.

The world narrows to just the two of us, the glow of the Christmas lights casting her in a golden hue.

“Don’t let me fall asleep on the couch,” she murmurs against my lips, her voice breathless.

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “Trust me, keeping you awake is the plan.”

Her laughter is soft and sweet, and I kiss her again, savoring every second of this peaceful moment.

The faint sound of giggles pulls me from sleep. At first, I think it’s part of a dream, but then it grows louder, accompanied by the unmistakable patter of tiny feet. A groggy smile tugs at my lips as I realize what’s happening. Christmas morning. The kids are awake.

Next to me, Callie stirs, her hair a tangle on the pillow as she blinks up at me. “What time is it?” she mumbles.

I grab my phone from the nightstand, squinting at the screen. “Six-thirty,” I say, groaning. “I was hoping for at least another hour.”

Callie chuckles, stretching lazily. “You and me both.”

The door bursts open, and Barrett comes charging in, his face lit with excitement. “Santa came!” he announces, bouncing at the foot of the bed. “There are presents everywhere! And Sara’s trying to open them already!”

Callie sits up, rubbing her eyes. “She’s trying to open them without us?” she teases, mock outrage in her voice.

Barrett nods earnestly, his curls flopping into his eyes. “She was ripping the paper, but I told her to stop. She said, ‘Owie help,’ but I said, ‘No, we have to wait for your Mommy and my Dad!’”

Callie and I exchange a look, barely holding back laughter. Sara’s been calling me “Owie” lately, much to Barrett’s delight. It’s a mix of endearing and hilarious, especially when she switches back to “Dad” without realizing it.

“Well, good job keeping her in check, buddy,” I say, ruffling his hair. “Let’s go rescue the presents before she tears through all of them.”

Callie pulls on her robe as I swing my legs out of bed, both of us trying to shake off the sleep. Barrett leads the charge down the hallway, his energy contagious even at this ungodly hour.

When we step into the living room, the chaos begins. Sara is crouched in front of the tree, her little hands on a brightly wrapped box as she looks up at us with a triumphant grin. “Owie! Look!” she declares, pointing at the gift like she’s just uncovered treasure.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Callie says, scooping her up and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Sara giggles, squirming in her arms. “We have to wait until everyone’s here.”

Ruby, already awake in her bassinet, lets out a soft coo, her little fists waving in the air. I scoop her up, cradling her against my chest as she blinks sleepily at the twinkling lights on the tree. “Morning, princess,” I murmur. “You ready for your first Christmas?”

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