Page 65 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
“I never saw you coming, Camden.”
“Let’s go home, Vixen.”
EPILOGUE I
HOLLY
Dear Santa – I was naughty and it was worth it.
—Holly’s Secret Thoughts
Christmas Morning – One Year Later
The first thing I smell is cinnamon.
The second is coffee.
And the third is more faint but getting stronger... baby shampoo.
When I open my eyes, the early morning light is creeping in through the curtains, and Camden’s side of the bed is already empty. His side of the sheets are warm and rumpled and still smelling deliciously like him.
Slowly, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, stretching as I search for one of Camden’s hoodies to throw on before I slide my socks back up my legs. He’s still got a thing for my socks, and the heat in his eyes whenever I wear them means I wear themas often as I can. I take a minute in the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth before I head downstairs, following the sound of laughter and the smell of something sweet.
And that laugh... deep and low and beautifully sexy is the sound my dreams are filled with. It’s become my second favorite sound in the whole world.
Sophie’s squeal echoes before I round the corner. Her little arms fly high in the air as her sippy cup full of chocolate milk flies across the room. “Mama. Up.”
That right there . . . that’s my favorite.
She’s sitting in the middle of the floor, her soft-brown hair sticking up in a million directions, still in her candy-cane pajamas from last night that match her cousin Rosie’s. Camden sits beside her, his legs stretched in front of him, with the sexiest grin on his lips as he looks at me. “Morning, vixen.”
“Morning, Grinch. What time did she wake up?” I ask as I sit down on the floor next to them and hand Sophie back her sippy.
“About twenty minutes ago. I made her breakfast, and we just made our way in here. I figured I’d hold her off for as long as I could to let you sleep.” He kisses the side of my neck. “Merry Christmas.”
My heart still does that fluttery thing it’s been doing for the entire past year every time I look at this man and this little girl.
I hand Sophie a pretty pink bag with glittery white snowflakes all over it, and we watch as she tears through all the tissue paper and pulls out the plush dragonfly Emmie and I found at a craft fair a few weeks ago. Soph squeezes it for a minute before she starts playing with the bag and forgets about all the other presents under the tree.
Camden drags his finger through the icing on his cinnamon roll and holds it up to me. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed, but someone got sidetracked.”
“Someone,” I tease and suck his finger between my lips. “More like two someones. I think you’re more excited about her presents than she is.”
He gives me a crooked, sexy smile. “You’re not entirely wrong.”
I lean against Camden, and Sophie climbs into my lap, smelling like syrup and vibrating with excitement. Her bag in one hand and her dragonfly in the other. “You want to open more presents, sugar plum?”
Sophie shakes her head and plays peak-a-boo with the dragonfly.
“Want to open your presents now since she seems to be done?” Camden asks.
My head snaps up, and my eyes lock on his. “I thought we said no presents?”
He pulls a big wrapped box over. It’s nearly taller than Sophie. White wrapping paper covered in green-and-red mistletoe cover the box, and a giant red bow sits on top. “Well, it’s too small to be a car.”
“You told me I couldn’t buy you a car,” he argues.
“I told you I didn’t need any Christmas presents, and you obviously didn’t listen,” I tease and tug at the bow and lift the lid as a giggle bubbles at my lips. A second box fits snugly inside the first. “Monroe... what’s this?”
