Page 96 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
“I know.”
We lie there for another minute, just breathing, the faint smell of coffee drifting closer. Then he finally sighs, resigned, and tosses the blanket off with a muttered, “Fine. Let’s go be festive.”
I sit up, watching him reach for the P.J.s I gave him last night. The sight of him holding the festive plaid shirt up by the sleeves makes me snort.
He glances over his shoulder. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Absolutely.”
He pulls it on anyway, shaking his head. “For you, Starling. Only for you.”
I smile, heart full but steady. “Merry Christmas, Calder.”
He leans down and kisses me once, slow and soft. “Merry Christmas, Eli.”
THIRTY-SIX
MAX
By the timewe make it downstairs, the house already smells like cinnamon and coffee. Faint Christmas music hums from the kitchen, and the tree lights cast a warm glow across the hallway.
Eli’s hand brushes mine as we step into the kitchen, both of us wearing the ridiculous matching red-and-black plaid pajamas he gave me last night. His idea, obviously. I’d tried to argue, but it’s hard to win when he’s smiling like that—bright and stubborn and way too pleased with himself.
Ava turns from the stove, spatula in hand, and lights up. “Well, look at you two,” she says. “I told you those pajamas would look adorable.”
Eli grins, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “See? Someone appreciates my fashion choices.”
Brett raises an eyebrow over his coffee mug. “Appreciate might be a strong word, son, but you definitely make a statement.”
I glance down at the flannel and shake my head. “He ambushed me with them. Didn’t even give me time to protest.”
Eli bumps my hip, smirking. “You look good. Admit it.”
“Like a lumberjack in a holiday ad,” I mutter, grabbing a mug from the counter. “But fine—points for comfort.”
We end up around the kitchen table, cinnamon rolls steaming in the center, mugs of coffee and cocoa scattered between us. Eli’s sister stumbles in wearing her own plaid, but pink set and groans when she sees us.
“Absolutely not. You two look like aHallmarkad.”
Eli beams. “Mission accomplished.”
Ava hides a laugh behind her mug. “Don’t be jealous, honey. You and your brother can match next year.”
“Hard pass,” Jules mutters, but she’s smiling as she sits down.
Eli beams. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
Jules groans. “I’m gonna need extra caffeine to survive this level of couple energy.”
The smile that forms on Ava’s lips reminds me of Eli’s teasing grin. “You love it, Jules.”
“No, Mom,” she says flatly, reaching for a cinnamon roll. “I tolerate it because you baked.”
Brett chuckles. “That’s the spirit. Coffee, Max?”
“Please,” I say, accepting the mug he offers. “Might help me blend in with the family chaos.”
“You’re doing fine,” he says easily, and I believe him. “You’ll get used to their level of Christmas cheer and wonder how you lived without it.” He leans over and kisses Eli’s mom, a smile on both of their faces, like they are sharing a secret.
