Epilogue

Kent

Hard to believe it was my favorite time of year again, although it was quickly coming to an end. Christmas came faster when you had someone to share it with. It seemed like only yesterday we were discussing what we should do for our Thanksgiving long weekend, and now it was Christmas Eve.

This year had been different—better—than any I could remember. Now that Barrett and I were living together, he got to become a part of my traditions—starting with the gnome Christmas village, which now had its own gnome Christmas village neighbors subdivision. This second little display sat atop a bookshelf because, in our world, there were never enough villages.

We’d gone to a few antique shows over the summer and found random pieces to add to the collection. It was fun having someone who got as giddy about a little plastic reindeer or paper sleigh as I did. And laying out the villages? He was all in. We made en entire day of it.

From decorating to dinners with my work friends, to little traditions just for us, this year felt special in ways I hadn’t anticipated. This year we were adding a new element, one just for us. We were getting married.

When Barrett first proposed, he didn’t have a particular place, time of year, size—anything in mind. I didn’t either. We brainstormed a lot of possibilities, everything from a big fancy wedding to a destination event in Hawaii to a small back-yard affair. None of them felt right.

Then I mentioned Christmas. At the time I was being silly, but the second the words left my mouth, I knew that was exactly what we needed to do.

Deciding on the right venue had been difficult. It was important to us that Pearly could be part of the day, which ruled out places like Town Hall. Instead, we chose a local bed and breakfast that allowed pets. It was decorated to the hilt for Christmas—not as decked out as our place but a strong competitor.

We invited only our closest friends—a total of five people—to be our witnesses. The ceremony was in front of the fireplace next to the Christmas tree in their grand entryway, with Pearly at our side.

The wedding was beautiful. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, including ours. The happiness overflowed

I was so freaking in love.

Then came the fun part. Daddy and I brought Pearly upstairs for a nap and then bundled up in coats and hats, stepping outside to meet our horse-drawn sleigh. They called it a reindeer sleigh,” though the “reindeer” were really horses with bells on their harnesses. Close enough, in my book.

Barrett climbed into the sleigh first, holding his hands out to help me up and tucking a warm blanket around me as the rest of our guests climbed in behind us. The snow was coming down in big, fluffy flakes as we rode across the property, heading toward the frozen pond.

The water source, already frozen solid, wasn’t very deep, so it was perfect for ice skating—our unconventional but completely magical reception plan.

Barrett got out first, helping me down before we went over to a small shed to grab our skates. It had been a long time since I’d skated, but, once upon a time, I’d been pretty good at it. Not that it mattered how good I was or wasn’t anymore. I was with Daddy, and skating with him was all that mattered.

We held hands as we slowly circled the rink the first time. Then, I heard the music—not just any music either. It was “O Christmas Tree”!

I wasn’t sure where the speakers were, but they were playing Christmas carols and, as we skated one of my favorites switched to another and then another.

“Did you give them my playlist, Daddy?”

“Of course,” he replied with a smile. “Every good wedding deserves excellent music. I’d ask you to dance, but I think skating in circles is about all I can handle right now.”

“This works,” I said, squeezing his hand, hating the fabric of our gloves being between us. Given how cold it was, though, keeping them on was the best option.

We all swirled around the ice, stopping only when we were told cookies and cocoa were ready. Who needs or even wants cake when they can have cookies and cocoa? Not I.

Standing by the fire pit, we drank the hot cocoa. I loved the sound of the fire crackling and the warmth it provided.

Our friends left early, via a shuttle provided by the hotel, knowing we wanted this evening to be more about us than a big celebration. Also, they were probably cold. Gods knew I was.

Daddy and I stayed on the ice, skating and laughing until even we had to admit defeat. We climbed back into the sleigh, pulling blankets around us as we rode back to the inn. Inside, Pearly was curled up on the dog bed we’d brought for her, sound asleep in the warm room.

“Hey, Pearly,” Barrett reached down to pet them. “Just so you know, you got another daddy today.”

“I’m not a daddy,” I teased, sticking out my tongue playfully. “You’re the Daddy.”

My daddy.

“Oh, look at this,” Barrett glanced at the clock. “Look at how late it is. I wonder…whatever should we do?”

I ran a finger down his chest. “We probably shouldn’t go out again.” My finger reached the top of his pants. And then I looked straight at his crotch, making my intentions crystal clear.

“I don’t know, sweet boy.” He was teasing, and I was eating it up.

He took my hand and pulled me closer. “Can you think of anything we could do? Inside, preferably?”

“Oh, I can think of many things.” I brought my lips to his ear and whispered all the dirty thoughts running through my mind.

“I think we’re going to have to narrow that list down,” he said with a grin. “Check-out is at ten.”

We went with my plan, deciding not to go anywhere. For now, we just wanted to spend the rest of the Christmas holiday together.

“We can try,” I teased, nipping at his bottom lip.

He lifted my hand, looking at the ring that now adorned it and giving me a kiss. “And look at you—a married man.”

“You’re equally married.”

He rubbed his nose against mine.”That’s true. I am,” he said softly.

“I got lucky. The world’s bestest daddy decided he wanted me.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, sweet boy.” He ran his thumb over my cheek. “I’m the lucky one because I have the world’s bestest boy.”

“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered, holding him as tightly as I could. “I love you so much that sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream—and when I wake up, I’ll find out you’re just my imagination.”

“Trust me, sweet boy. I’m very real.” He smiled mischievously. “How about I show you just how real I am?” He cupped the front of my slacks.

“I’d like that, Daddy. I’d like that a lot.”

“Merry Christmas, Barrett, husband mine.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy. I love you more.”