Page 36 of Merry Little Christmas
My heart thundered against my ribcage. An involuntary smile curled my lips. “Yeah?”
Cole hauled me into his arms before kissing me until I was breathless and dizzy. “Peyton McKauley, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. I’ve secretly hoped for damn near twenty years that I’d be so lucky to have you as mine—in every way that matters. So my answer is yes.Hellyes. Let’s get married.”
I was smiling so wide that my cheeks hurt. As he talked, Cole began to cry. I swiped tears away from his cheeks, only for them to seem to travel tomyeyes. “Let’s get married,” I echoed, throat tight.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I married my brother’s best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cole
Present Day
By the timePeyton and I finished speaking, Bentley watched us with stars in his sparkling blue eyes—and Jesse watchedhimthe same way.
We obviously omitted some parts, such as Peyton wearing a vibrator to Christmas dinner… and the fact that they were wearing one right now. Like they could read my mind, their hand found my thigh beneath the table.
I was in for a whirlwind the moment we were left alone.
“Did you ever find work again?” Bentley asked Peyton.
“I did. I’m still an illustrator, but I got snatched up by a bigger, better publisher.” They gestured to my left hand. “The signing bonus is actually what paid for that ring.”
“And part of this house, don’t you forget,” I reminded them, resting my chin in my hand. That Monday on our way to the courthouse, Peyton got their new job offer. The yellow gold band had been a total surprise. I thought we’d agreed that I didn’t need a ring, since I did a lot of work with my hands. But with it, Peyton bought me a matching silicone one to wear on the job. With therest of their bonus, I let them pay part of the mortgage on the house. It was the only way I could get them to agree on not paying rent.
We converted the nursery into Peyton’s office, instead adding an extension onto our bedroom for their “Little’s Paradise.” The area was the size of a large walk-in closet, with enough space for the changing table, some toys, and the big plush rocker that Peyton refused to let me get rid of. Most nights we ended up in my bed but occasionally, Peyton wanted nothing more than a bottle, me, and that rocker—in that order.
They’d barely avoided regressing when they showed Bentley the space. New to the scene, the boy was nearly trembling in fear when he showed up to our place, but when Peyton offered him the piggy juice bottle and opened the door to the nursery, his bright eyes glittered. Combined with the golden-blond ringlet curls, the boy was absolutely precious.
For the first time that night, he seemed to relax. He’d hung onto every word like a kid at story time. My best friend had his arm draped across the back of Bentley’s chair, catering to the boy’s every whim. He’d even fed him bites of his food when he’d forgotten there was even a meal in front of him, refilled his drink every time it emptied, and I wasn’t oblivious to what was happening when they excused themselves from the room once he began squirming.
He wiggled uncomfortably now, but for a completely different reason. “What did your parents think?”
“Please,” Jesse scoffed, taking a sip of his water. “We all knew light years before these two bozos did.”
Peyton launched their napkin across the table, and my hand went to my pocket—where the vibrator remote was concealed—as a warning. Grumbling, they slumped in their seat and crossed their arms. “What my brother means to say, is that our families only cared that we were happy.”
“They weren’t even mad when you eloped?”
“Nope,” I answered. “They were thrilled. Even threw us a big party on New Year’s Eve.”
It was impressive how quickly our parents had put together a wedding reception. It was small, given the time constraints, but no less extravagant. They asked that we show up wearing what we got married in, and I wasn’t going to complain—Peyton’s all-black suit was an image I wanted burned into my memory for the rest of my life. Peyton’s mom spent all day baking cupcakes since, according to her, a three-tier cake was way too much work. My parents cooked the food, and Peyton and Jesse’s dad even drove up for the occasion. It was the first time in twenty years that their parents had been in the same room without arguing, and that was the only wedding gift that Peyton needed—Jesse too, for that matter.
As a private wedding gift, Peyton presented me with a print of what they’d been drawing—and I then proceeded to recreate the image before hanging it right above our bed. Naturally, it came down when we let Bentley and Jesse into the room.
Bentley leaned into Jesse’s touch. He seemed much more comfortable in his skin, even asking to sit in Jesse’s lap. “Are you feeling better about—” I gestured between the four of us. “—everything?”
He nodded, resting his head against his Daddy’s. “I guess I just had to see it to know it could be true.”
“We’re always happy to help,” Peyton said before turning those brown eyes to me. “Can we have dessert now?”
Bentley perked up in his seat. “Dessert?”
Jesse groaned, but it was all his fault. He’d been the one to tell me about Bentley’s sugar cookie addiction. If I couldn’t hype up his Little before sending them on their way, what kind of best friend was I?
I wasn’t planning on Peyton finding the stash before I could break them out, and they’d been on about them all day.
“Fine,” I said, pretending to be reluctant. “I guess someone has to eat all these cookies.”
