Page 137 of Tangled Hearts
Eli is a menace, and I think Holden definitely had something to do with it because instead of normal or even slightly gaudy Christmas pajamas, Beck is wearing a bunny onesie, complete with hood and bunny ears. “I think it’s from A Christmas Story,” I say, grinning at him.
“Itis.I should have banned Eli from watching TV. This is all my fault. You go too lax on a kid, and he thinks he can just do…” Beck waves a hand in front of him. I bite my lip hard to keep myself from laughing. “…this.”
“At least you’re warm. And so cute.”
Beck sighs. “You know what? No. I’m gonna wear this shit with pride. Get our daughter back out here.”
I don’t need to since Lexi rounds the corner and jumps on the couch. “I vote for A Christmas Carol. The Jim Carrey version.”
“Well, the little queen has spoken,” Beck says. He’s probably just thanking his lucky stars that she didn’t request A Christmas Story. Although it would have been a certain level of funny if she had.
We all settle onto the couch. Lexi sits between us, eyes bright and glued to the TV. She’s watched this so many times now she can almost repeat it word for word, and in some places, she does. Halfway through, Beck pauses the TV so we can head into the kitchen to getSanta’s cookies ready. We baked them earlier, so they’re cool and ready to plate up already.
I snap a couple of photos to send to Lydia and Danny of Beck and Lexi as they carefully arrange them on the plate and pour a glass of milk. The final touch is a carrot for Santa’s reindeer.
I’m not actually sure that Lexi even believes in Santa, but this is Beck’s favorite part of the tradition, and I think she knows that, so she always goes along with it. After she goes to bed, I’ll have to eat the cookie—since Beck won’t—leaving only a few crumbs, and Beck will eat the carrot. That’s the agreement we came to when we started this with Eli.
When they’re finished, Lexi skips past me, holding the plate for Santa. Beck’s carrying the glass of milk—a lesson learned after we had one too many spills—and with a quick kiss, he steps past me into the living room to join Lexi.
My heart is nearly full to bursting as I watch the two of them carefully place the milk and cookies on the mantle. Beck kisses the top of Lexi’s head, and she rolls her eyes like she can’t stand it, but she preens under his attention anyway. He’s so good for her, and I always melt seeing what a great dad he is. He’s right about one thing—it would have been a damn shame to not have kids together.
We sit down to finish up the movie, and by the time it’s over, Lexi is nearly falling asleep against my shoulder. “Hey, Lex.” She stirs a bit at my quiet voice and blinks up at me. “Time for bed. Santa won’t come with you asleep on the couch.”
She gives me a sleepy grin, then drags herself to her feet. “Night, Dads. See you guys in the morning.”
After a quick hug, she walks down the hallway and disappears into her bedroom.
I glance at Beck. “Merry Christmas Eve, baby.”
The smile I get almost stops my heart. Still. Always. “Merry Christmas Eve, beautiful. Are you ready for bed?”
I nod, grabbing the remote to turn off the TV. Beck and I sit in silence for a second, both of our gazes on the Christmas tree. It’s full. I never even had a tree after I was seven, and now? Now we’ve filled ours with love and life andfamily.It’s adorned with homemade decorations from Lexi’s elementary school days, her missing-toothed smile on display, and strung with popcorn garlands that Eli and Nic made with us last week. Just the thought brings a smile to my face as Nic stealing popcorn and Eli glaring at him flashes through my mind.
My favorites, though, are the decorations that Beck and I pick out each year. One year, it was a little ceramic plaque that readFirst Christmas—signifying the first year we spent Christmas together. My second favorite is the little gingerbread house decoration we got the first year Eli was with us. We let him pick that one out. He’d blinked up at me with shiny green eyes, telling me he wanted that one because it was his first Christmas in a house that felt like home.
I shake my head against the memories before I become a blubbering mess and stand, offering Beck my hand. He takes it, and I help him to his feet.
We stop at the mantle, and with a breathtaking smile, Beck picks up the carrot from the plate. “This would be so much better with ranch,” he mumbles, still grinning.
“Reindeer don’t eat ranch, so I guess you’re out of luck, baby.”
After I pick up my cookie, we “toast” by knocking them together. When all I have left is a tiny piece of cookie, I lay it back on the tray, and Beck adds his mostly eaten carrot.
I take his hand, leading him toward our bedroom. “So, are you gonna sleep in your bunny pjs?” I ask after we’re inside and I’ve closed the door behind us.
He gives me a rueful grin. “I have to. It’s tradition.”
I grab a handful of his fuzzy pajamas and pull him to me, tasting the happiness on his lips as soon as they connect with mine. I lose myself in him, sighing when he cups my jaw and runs his thumb over my cheekbone. For over a decade, he’s touched me just like this. Softly, with kindness and love and reverence. I hardly even remember a time when I was met with angry fists and devastating words. Now it’s just him—the love of my life, my everything.
“Santa won’t come until we go to sleep,” he whispers against my lips, breaking our kiss.
I smile. “Then let’s get into bed.”
I expect to be woken up by Lexi bombarding us with her excitement. Instead, I wake to crying. Eyes still closed, my face scrunches in confusion.
Who’s crying?
“Shhh, baby boy. You don’t want to wake everyone up yet.”
