Page 137 of Mended Hearts

“I said some stupid shit.”

“That makes two of us.”

I chuckled and shook my head, brushing a kiss to her temple.

“I really, really want to be a family with you,” Leighton confessed, and my ribs constricted. “I’m just… I’m not there yet.” A long silence stretched between us, until she added, softer, “Not the way you mean.”

I nodded slowly. “Leighton. We don’t need a baby to be a family. You’re already mine—and I’ll wait way longer than nine months if that’s what it takes for you to believe it. I don’t need you to wear my ring, or to live in my house, or carry my name for that to be true. Those things are just bonuses, baby.”

Her eyes glistened. “Really?”

“Really.” I drew her into my arms again. “And I promise, if you give me a chance, we do this at your pace. You want to stay in your place? I’ll figure it out.”

Leighton narrowed her eyes, mouth curving slowly before she bit her bottom lip. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Know when to stop while you’re ahead, Hart.”

I burst out laughing, tugging her flush against my side as we turned back toward the house.

From inside, we heard Kaia yell, “If you don’t propose for real, I will!”

“Don’t tempt her,” Leighton muttered.

“Oh, I’ve learned,” I said with a grin.

Leighton

Every Christmas Eve after dinner,we gathered around the tree with classic music playing and exchanged jammies. Some years they were silly, others sweet—entirely dependent on the collective mood of the family.

And this year? Peak chaos.

To my surprise, everyone had been… well, frankly, awesome about the whole Ollie thing. They’d laid the jokes on thick throughout dinner, but he handled it even better than I did—laughing along and letting the jabs roll off his shoulders.

Now he was trying to squirrel his way out the door, mumbling something about not wanting to intrude on “family traditions.” But saint that she was, Alice had already wrapped pajamas for him and the kids.

Beau was following Quinny around with literal hearts in his eyes, Ollie in his wake—but when I scanned the packed living room, I couldn’t find our little lady anywhere.

Couldn’t blame her. This was the best kind of chaos, but it was still chaos. If you weren’t born into it, it could be sixteen kinds of overwhelming.

Greyson was chatting with my dad but still reached out to squeeze my shoulder as I passed. Alice’s glittering eyes caught mine from across the room.

I checked under the breakfast table, lifting the palm tree-print tablecloth just in case. Just a snoring Gimli and some discarded pie crust. With Axel and Mav now trying to out-sing Sinatra, I wandered toward the hallway.

“Tillie,” I hissed, trying not to announce the hunt to the entire house. “Tillie?”

“In here,” a small voice called back.

I rounded into the formal dining room and burst out laughing. An arm was tenting up the red tablecloth from underneath.

Groaning, I dropped to my knees and crawled under the table, flopping onto my back beside her.

“You okay?” she asked, skeptical.

“I ate too much.”

“Oh.” She nodded like that explained everything.

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