The entire time I busied myself with setting out the cookie dough from the fridge and decorating supplies from the cabinet, all I could hear was Bec’s enthusiastic tour of her home. Where I felt the niggling sense of inadequacy and shame for our cheaper furnishings and lived-in clutter, she boasted in contrast. The innocence of childhood was pure and simple like that—she didn't know to compare and contrast and covet. All she knew was the warmth and happiness that came with home. It was a sobering realization, but one that helped me relax and rediscover the pride I had felt when we first moved into this place four years ago. Sure, it wasn't fancy, expensive, or spacious. But it was ours and it was filled with love.

“Becs, darling! Let Zeke go now. We have cookies to make!” I called through the house as I rolled out the final ball of dough. Classic sugar cookies, the ubiquitous holiday staple.

“Yasss I want the unicorn cutter! Ez, come help but don't do the unicorn ‘cause that's mine.”

They reappeared and I was thankful to see Ez looking more or less unfazed after the whirlwind tour courtesy of an overexcitedchild. Even I got overwhelmed by her sometimes and I was overflowing with unconditional love the likes I wouldn't find elsewhere. Ez only ever dealt with children in the studio. The fact that he was smiling ear to ear and still holding her hand warmed my heart and renewed my hope.

“I haven't made cookies in years. This is going to be fun.” Ezechiel slipped from her grip and stepped in beside me at the kitchen table. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He leaned in and paused, his lips hovering over my cheek. His breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine as I instantly relived our last kiss and how desperately I wanted there to be more.

“This okay?”

“Oh, yes.” My eyes darted toward Becs and found her studiously examining the cookie cutter she'd called dibs on.

“Good.” Ez closed the distance and kissed my cheek before looping his arm around my waist. “We hadn't discussed… and I didn't want to overstep.”

“God, how do you keep getting better and better?” I exhaled the last of my tension with a dramatic huff. “It's not fair at all.”

I set the rolling pin aside and grabbed the tin of cookie cutters from the table. Becs had already stolen back the show, but I wasn't upset over it. Hearing her ramble on about anything brought me such joy. Listening to him engaging with her no matter how ridiculous her conversations became had me near tears before I realized.

Ez met my eyes and mouthed across the table. “You okay?”

I smothered a laugh and wiped my sleeve across my eyes. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Daddy gets like this at Christmas. You should see him cry at the movies.” Becs smacked her cutter into the dough and pried it up with intense concentration.

“Gee, thanks. Throw me under the bus, baby.”

“Hey, crying is okay. You said so!”

Guilty as charged. I wouldn't take it back, either. “You're right, Becs. It's time you knew, Ez—I'm a crier. Especially over Christmas movies.”

“Perfect. What are we watching tonight?”

“Polar Express!” Becs bounced off her step stool and hopped around the kitchen. “Dad says we gotta eat and then we can decorate the cookies and then we get to watch the movie.”

“And this is a cry-worthy movie?”

I nodded emphatically as we finished cutting the rest of the dough. Becs was evidently satisfied with one tray full of unicorns, which left the rest to us. Thankfully, he understood the importance of maximizing the number of cookies per tray, as well as varying the shapes. If this were a graded activity, he passed this part with flying colors.

He also passed when he stepped in to handle the washing up while I put the finishing touches on our meal. It wasn't fine dining, but it was still delicious in my opinion. The fact that he groaned through every mouthful of the slow-cooker goulash had my pride bubbling up to heights it hadn't achieved before. I popped trays in and out of the oven between mouthfuls until at last, they were all baked and cooling. The later it got, the bigger potential for meltdowns, so I worked to make the process efficient. At this rate, she would be passed out fifteen minutes into the film. In fact, I was sort of hoping for it.

Again, Ez stepped in and helped clean up dinner as I spread the cookies out on the table. This part was the messiest part, but also the most fun. Once we were all gathered in front of the icing tubes and bottles of sprinkles, Becs was ready to pounce. Somehow, it became a competition as I counted down from three and let her loose on the supplies. Ez jumped in with just as much vigor, and I followed right along. We laughed harder and harder as icing flowed and sprinkles rolled.

By the time we were finished, we had a huge mess and a ton of questionable looking designs, but we also all had broad smiles and twinkly eyes. I sent Becs away to wash up and change into pajamas as Ez and I managed to make quick work of the mess. His tender touches and stolen kisses were enough to get my heart rate increasing to the point of flustering me, especially when Becs raced into the room to interrupt yet another stolen kiss.

“Shit, sorry,” Ez mumbled, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. He looked good in a blush. Usually, it was me perpetually struggling with the issue. I snickered under my breath and turned to Becs.

“Becs, I—”

“Are you boyfriends? Like Laney’s dad and Mr. Chip?”

“Well, um…”

“Yes,” Ez volunteered with a smile. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it's cool. Dad, can I have the cookies now?”