Page 117 of The Art of Being Merry
Dax flicks his gaze to mine, humor dancing in his caramel eyes, but his expression remains stoic. Wonder if he’s freaking out inside or if it’s just me.
“Would you be okay if Mama was my girlfriend?” Dax turns it back to my boys, holding each of their gazes for a few beats.
Jace shrugs. “Yes.”
Dax holds out his hand for a high-five, which Jace obliges. Then his focus turns to my eldest. Atlas has always been my wild card, his temperament harder to pin down in any situation. “Atlas?”
He keeps us in suspense for a minute, one of the longest minutes of my life.
“Don’t kiss her in front of me, okay? That’s gross.”
Dax nods, his smile compelling. “Yeah, Ace. I can do that.”
For Atlas, he holds out his hand for him to shake. My boy does him one better—he throws himself against his chest. A sob tries to break free, but I do my best to contain it.
But damn, I’m happy.
When I left my husband last year at Christmas, all I knew was I needed a drastic change in my life. I didn’t expect to find a man who’s extremely caring, loving, and downright sexy, who would give me the time of day, let alone want to be my boyfriend and be there for my boys, too.
I knew the Christmas holidays would be forever changed. I didn’t anticipate the change would be for the better.
Jace piles in for a hug, and I have the wherewithal to grab my phone and snap a picture. The joy on all my guys’ faces is priceless, a moment of history captured by the lens.
When they pull out of the hug, Dax looks at my oldest. “Mind if I declare my love for her?”
“If it’s true and you mean it, I’ll allow it.”
I’m too stunned by the comments being tossed around to reprimand him.
Dax pulls me up from the couch by my wrists and loops his arms around my neck. “Clementine Powell, I love you. With all my heart, every fiber of my being, every piece of my soul. Will you . . . be my girlfriend?”
The sob breaks free on a chuckle, but it’s a happy one. Perhaps the happiest tears I’ve cried in a long while.
“Dax Nicholas, I’d be honored to be your girlfriend, to call you my boyfriend. I love you.”
With a smile more wicked than the Grinch’s, Dax turns to Atlas. “Better cover your eyes.”
Understanding doesn’t dawn right away, but when it does, Atlas scurries from the room.
For his part, Dax sweeps me into his arms, theintensity in his gazeburning bright. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”
“Kinda hard not to when all you’ve done since the moment we met is prove your devotion. To me. To my kids. To us.”
My man waggles his brows. “You’re the best Christmas present I’ve never had on my list.”
Fast and reckless, like our relationship, he kisses me.
And again, Christmas is forever changed.
epilogue
DAX
ONE YEAR LATERCHRISTMAS EVE
Bring the beer and meet me in the studio.
I find my fiancée’s note stuck to a bottle of our favorite holiday beer. I grab the two bottles and two cups—I was an easy convert to not drinking from the can or bottle—and go in search of Clementine.
