Page 33 of All in December
“Yeah,” I say softly. There’s a thread of curiosity in his voice I don’t miss, probably wondering what Christmas looked like for me growing up and my life in Missouri after the little I shared last week. “So, how can I help? And what are you making?” I redirect the conversation as I step up next to him.
“Roasted garlic chicken and mashed potatoes,” he says, mincing fresh garlic.
“Do you always cook like this on ski weekends?” I ask, reaching for a knife so I can help chop.
“Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” he says without missing a beat.
“Oh, so this is your A game?” I bump my elbow into his side. “All for me?”
“And Sam, can’t forget him.”
“I could never.”
He leans in slightly, eyes still on the cutting board. “Don’t knock it. We’ll see how well it works on you tonight.” He winks. Then he brings his mouth right next to my ear as he whispers, “I bet it’ll have youbeggingfor more, Cay.”
A full-body shiver runs through me at the low rasp of his voice, and I have to set the knife down before I accidentally cut myself. I take a deep, steadying breath, and when I turn to look at him, he’s already gone back to chopping.
This man.
CHAPTER 16
Nash
Dinner is great, but it really does taste even better because of who I’m sharing it with.
Caleb asks Emma questions about school and her favorite books, and she lights up like a little star, talking and talking while the boys inhale their food. Sam barely pauses to breathe between bites, and when Benji asks for seconds—mostly of the mashed potatoes—Caleb grins at me from across the table.
As chaotic as my life can feel with two kids, two schedules, and never enough hands, the feeling of adding Sam to the mix should make it more complicated. But instead, with Caleb here, it feels like maybe it’d be easier.
We just fit.
It’s the exact thing I was scared I’d never find. I’ve spent so long assuming I’d have to bend someone into my life, make space they didn’t really want to fill on weeks my kids were with me, compromise until the connection felt more like work than ease, all because they didn’t understand my responsibilities as a co-parent or my friendship with Tess.
But tonight doesn’t feel like fitting him into anything.Doesn’t feel like squeezing him into the gaps. It feels like adding on to make room for something—or two someone’s—who were always meant to be here.
Just like I had a feeling it would.
“Alright, who’s ready to watch a movie?” I ask, and the three kids push away from the table, chairs scraping back as they all shout, “Me!”
“Do you want me to make popcorn?” Caleb asks, glancing at me as he collects a few dishes from the table.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
He smiles at that and turns toward the kitchen while the kids rush into the living room, claiming their spots on the gray sectional. Emma burrows into the corner with a snowflake blanket wrapped around her shoulders while Sam and Benji argue over which movie to watch.
“Come on, let’s watchHome Alone,” Sam says.
“ButElfis way funnier,” Benji counters.
“I want to watchThe Santa Clause,” Emma pipes up.
“Hey, guys,” I say, interrupting their conversation. “Why don’t you see what this TV even has on first?”
“Oh yeah,” Benji says, reaching for the remote.
I head back into the kitchen to help Caleb finish up. The smell of melted butter is in the air, and it makes the cozy cabin feel even cozier with the sound of the kernels popping in the microwave.
I find two big bowls in one of the cabinets and set them on the counter to pour the popcorn into.
