Page 41 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“Merry Christmas, Quinn,” he says when I join him in the living room at the tree.

“Merry Christmas, Vaughn,” I say, a little giddy because I still can’t believe this is my life. That he’s in it when he was supposed to be out of it. That a little something unexpected gave me everything I don’t want to live without.

And I can’t wait for him to open his present. I head to the tree and grab it, then hand him the red-wrapped box.

He holds it up, shakes it. “Quinn, I know it’s the pony I asked for. I peeked last night.”

“Oh, stop. Just open it.”

He unwraps the gift and smiles when he holds up a T-shirt with aTlogo like we joked about the night we met. “Just a little something to remind you that you were my Christmas fantasy.”

He loops an arm around my waist and tugs me onto his lap, peppering me with kisses—my ears, my neck, my lips.

He dotes on me, and I’m only six weeks pregnant. I can only imagine what the rest of my life will be like with him.

Wonderful.

They’ll be wonderful years.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, then his dark eyes gleam. “I got you something too.”

I glance at the tree. It’s empty underneath. “I don’t see a gift,” I say, playfully chiding him.

“Because I know you so well. I would never leave your gift under the tree. You confessed your dirty little secret the first night we met.”

I pout. “But I love Christmas and Christmas presents. And you. I love you.”

“Good,” he says, sliding me off him then dropping to one knee. “Then I hope you don’t need a heads-up that I’m about to ask you to marry me.”

I gasp, and a nanosecond later, tears slide down my cheeks.

He meets my gaze. “I fell in love with you the night we met, and I love you more every day. And I love our baby. Let’s be a family. Will you marry me?”

“Yes! I’d hoped you were going to ask.”

He slides the ring onto my finger and brings me in for a delicious Christmas-morning kiss.

When we separate, I look into his eyes. “This is the best present ever.”

We don’t wait long to tie the knot. About six weeks later on Valentine’s Day, we get married in a small wedding with family and close friends in attendance.

We spend the next several months living and loving, getting our apartment ready, selling his condo in Miami, and flying to Florida every month to see his sisters and his adorable nieces and nephews. While here in New York, I try to spend as many days as possible with my parents, Josh, and Amy.

I make sure to snag lots of girl time with my sister, especially since I love the updates she gives me on a new possible romance in her life. She’s met a guy she likes. News flash: there are all sorts of complications. I mean, she works with him. What could possibly go wrong?

But that’s a story for another time.

Meanwhile, I do my best to relax. To let go of my relentless need to plan everything in my life. Babies, after all, have a way of upending plans in the best way possible.

Then, near the end of the summer, I pop.

And I revise the earlier statement I made on Christmas, once our little girl is born.

She’s truly the best gift ever.

In the delivery room, Vaughn gazes at our baby with so much love in his eyes, holding her then kissing me. “Now,” he says, “thisis a special delivery.”

And four and a half months later, she’s with us on Christmas morning, making this holiday even better than the one before.

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