Page 73 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

Ah. So, whatever he’d gotten for his dad could be used by her, too. “Clever boy.”

Walker chuckled.

While Beau helped his grandson wrestle the next gift out of its wrapping paper, Walker came closer to her. “If you’re wondering why so few presents, my dad doesn’t like a bunch of meaningless ‘crap.’ He’s always been that way. He liked to build stuff with us or take us on adventures. He filled our stockings but only gave us a handful of presents.”

“Oh, man. I was just the opposite. When my kids came downstairs on Christmas morning, it looked like a toy store exploded.” It had probably been too much. “Did that bum you out as a kid?”

“Not at all because he always got the thing we wanted most. Like a dirt bike or a trip to Alaska. We preferred holidays with Dad because he spent his time with us. We played games, had movie nights, went snowshoeing… Yeah.” He smiled. “We liked it better here.”

“Here you go.” Beau handed Walker a gift. “It’s from Margot and me.”

“You guys, you’re very sweet, but you don’t have to keep pretending I’m part of this.”

“Oh, but you are.” Beau kissed her on the mouth, and she loved the way he couldn’t keep his hands off her. “You very much are.”

“So, Margot.” Walker peeled off the paper. “Are you going to be my mommy?”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, my God. That’s it. I’m out of here. How about some snacks? Hot chocolate, anyone?”

“Shocklet?” Colt jumped up, stepping on the wrapping paper at his feet. “Can I has some shocklet?”

“Ooh, I should’ve asked you first.” She threw Walker an apologetic look.

“Hey, it’s Christmas,” he said. “Anything goes.”

“Need some help?” Beau asked.

“Nope. I got it. You guys just enjoy.” It was sweet how they wanted her to slot in so easily, but they needed time as a family, and she didn’t mind at all. She just hoped they had the ingredients.

The kitchen was right out of a design magazine. It had antique white cabinets, copper pots and pans hanging from a rack over the stove, a huge forest-green Aga oven, and a little cove for eating with a green and white checked banquette.

On her way to the refrigerator, she pulled down a pot. Fortunately, she had no problem finding milk, cocoa powder, and sugar in the pantry. She even found semisweet chocolate chips in a drawer. Perfect. She just needed some vanilla… And found it in a spice cabinet.

With her ingredients gathered, she got to work, whisking the cocoa powder into the milk. While it heated, she texted her kids.

Mom: So, how did it go? Did you have a nice Christmas?

Right away, her phone pinged with a photo from Owen of the troops eating a meal. It looked like a senator and a few commanding officers were there, shaking hands. A text came in.

Owen: When I get home, will you promise to make this for me? I don’t think I can live without it.

It was a close-up of an unappealing grayish meat, some soggy vegetables, and a slop of mashed potatoes with coagulated gravy.

Emerson: Ew. I just hawked up my quinoa salad.

Mom: Absolutely! Please ask the chef if he’ll share the recipes.

Mom: Oh, and be careful with that roll. You don’t want to chip your tooth.

Owen: I don’t think you get how Special Operations work, Mom. It’s not a roll. It’s a weapon.

Mom: LOL. Looks like it.

Mom: I miss you guys.

Emerson: I’ll see you in ten days! Yay!

Owen: Wish I could be there.

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