36. Aaron

36

AARON

My wildest dream is turning into an unhinged fever nightmare, real fast.

Because honestly, the last person in the world you want to see while you’re locked in a passionate embrace with your dream woman is your freaking mother .

Oh, and bonus points for seeing your grandmother, too.

But, here we are. Somehow.

“Mom,” I gasp in a daze, one hand locked on the doorframe, which I caught literal seconds from tumbling head over heels into my house. Thank the good Lord for my hockey reflexes. My other hand is wrapped tight around Livvy’s lower back, catching her from landing on top of Nonna. “What on earth are you doing here?!”

Mom’s delighted eyes slide from my disheveled form to Olivia’s mussed-up hair and swollen lips and shocked expression. She smiles knowingly. “Surprise!”

“We’re here for Christmas,” Nonna announces, looking as wickedly gleeful as my mother does.

“What?” I choke out as I run my fingers through my hair, which I’m sure is sticking up straight from Olivia locking her fingers in it. Not that I’m complaining.

For the past hour, I’ve been trying to process how amazing it feels to see Olivia again. How I missed her way more than I even thought I would, and was counting down the moments until I could see her again.

Now, I’m additionally trying to process the fact that my mother and grandmother are standing here, right in front of me. “I’m meant to fly to Newark in the morning.”

“Not anymore, you’re not,” Nonna tuts as her wrinkled hands clasp around Olivia’s arm. “Hello, sweetheart, come on in. I’m excited to hear all about this ‘not nobody’ that Aaron keeps going on and on about. Can I expect any great-grandbabies in the near future, may I ask?”

“Pardon me?” Olivia squeaks as Nonna—all five feet and one hundred pounds of her—practically drags her through the front door and down the hallway.

If this wasn’t all so insane, it would be comical. Olivia, in her heeled boots, is about a foot taller than Nonna, and yet, she’s being pulled through the house like a wayward puppy being leash trained.

I step into the entryway in an attempt to free Liv from Nonna’s clutches, but Mom intercepts and pulls me into a huge hug. “So good to see you, my boy.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mom,” I tell her as I try to figure out what the hell is happening, alongside the news that I’m apparently not going home for Christmas.

“Sorry we didn’t make it to your game. Tonight’s flight was the only one before Christmas Day with two seats left.”

I look down at her. “Ma, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you and Nonna are here, but… why are you here, exactly? And why is Nonna interrogating Livvy about babies?”

“ Livvy is her name, then.” She has straight mischief in her eyes—it’s a well-known fact in my family that I got my love of teasing from my mother. She goes on to explain, “You were so insistent on coming home for Christmas, but I wanted to meet the woman you kept talking in circles about. So, Nonna and I decided to come here instead. Spend Christmas in the city you’ve been calling home for the past few years. Probably about time anyway.”

“Would’ve been nice to have a heads-up,” I tease, but honestly, I’m happy to see them both a day early. No matter how misguided and schemey they are.

And this means I won’t have to leave Olivia.

As excited as I’ve been to see my family, the thought of leaving Olivia here by herself for the holidays felt wrong. Not only did I not want to be apart from her again, but I know how difficult this time of year is for her.

I was planning on talking to her tonight and offering for her to come to Jersey with me, or for me to stay here with her. From the beginning, she stated that she wanted to spend Christmas by herself—that was part of our original agreement—but I wanted to offer an alternative, just in case her feelings had changed.

Now, I don’t know how she’ll feel about my family gatecrashing.

And the last thing on earth I want to do is break a promise I made to her.

Mom and I walk to the kitchen (okay, I practically sprint there while my mom cackles behind me), and we find Olivia making tea while Nonna sits at a barstool, eyes glinting. “I like this one, Nipotino,” she tells me.

I have to smile as Liv’s eyes meet mine. “Ah, she’s all right.”

“And he’s not entirely insufferable,” she fires back cheekily. “Also, what’s Nipotino?”

“Grandson,” I explain to her. “It’s an affectionate term in Italy.”

“Cute.” Liv gives me a wrinkle-nosed smile that I commit to memory forever.

“So, how did you two meet?” Mom sits next to Nonna and spreads her hands on the counter, silver bracelets jingling from her wrists. She eyes Olivia’s sweatshirt curiously. “Are you a fan?”

“Oh yeah, she’s my biggest fan,” I reply, and watch with delight as Liv’s face flares as red as Santa’s suit.

“Not a fan, no. This was just a little joke for Christmas. I’m not crazy or anything…” she trails off, worrying her teeth into her bottom lip like she’s physically trying to contain her ramble.

“Mom,” I say, saving her while throwing myself in the firing line. “Livvy’s full name is Olivia Griswold. You know, from high school.”

Her reaction is exactly what I expect.

Mom squeals. “Really?”

Nonna claps her hands to her powdered cheeks. “Oddio, it’s a Christmas miracle!”

“Olivia Griswold! This makes so much sense now.” Mom beams at Liv. “You know, he never shut up about you. It was always ‘Olivia this’ and ‘Olivia that.’ The poor boy was completely under your spell, my dear.” She winks at me. “What a marvelous surprise. I’m so happy we came.”

I can physically feel the blush creeping up my neck as I look at Olivia, who’s staring back at me. She puts her hands on her hips, a sassy grin on her face. “Never shut up about me, huh? Now who’s a fan of who?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Told you I was a bit obsessed with you.”

Still am.

I take in her sparkly eyes and glowing expression. Probably always will be.

Just then, the doorbell rings and I let out a groan, suddenly picturing my huge extended family of uncles and cousins and step-cousins standing on my doorstep with their billion suitcases to join my mom, Nonna, and me for Christmas. “Who could that be?”

“That’ll be our food.” Olivia looks at Mom and Nonna. “We ordered a ton, if you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” Mom confirms, then pats Olivia’s arm downright affectionately. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Um, we’ll go get the food,” I say quickly. “ Both of us.”

With that, I put my hand on Olivia’s lower back and usher her into the hallway.

When we’re safely out of earshot, I let out a big breath. “I’m so sorry. I promise I had no idea they were coming for Christmas.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I saw your face when you realized that your grandmother witnessed you with your tongue in my mouth.”

“Right,” I groan. “Almost successfully managed to block that out. So thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” she singsongs.

“Anyway. I know you originally wanted to spend Christmas alone, and if that’s still the case, I want you to know that I’m gonna fix this.” I bite my lip, thinking fast. “I’m sure I can get them on my flight to Jersey tomorrow morning with me.”

Olivia casts a sidelong glance towards the kitchen, a funny look flitting over her face. “No. They should stay. You should stay.”

I blink at her, taking in her gorgeous hazel eyes, her pretty, slightly flushed cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll go back to my old apartment for a few days. I’m still on the lease ‘til the end of the month,” she offers. “Give you some family time.”

“Absolutely not.” I pin her with my gaze. “You are not going back to that dump under any circumstances.”

“Okay, we’ll all stay then.” She shrugs, but I could swear there’s a twinkle in her eye. “You can show me a Marino family Christmas.”

“You seriously want to experience that?”

“Yup.”

“I’d love nothing more than to spend Christmas with you. And my family,” I tell her, hardly believing how this is all working out right now. “But promise me that you’ll let me know if it gets to be too much for you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, though. A little bird once told me that I needed to make new Christmas memories.”

I grin. “What a smart bird. Bet he was handsome, too.”

“Plus, your mom and grandma seem hilarious.” She wrinkles her nose at me. “Way funnier than you.”

“They are their own special brand of something, let me tell you.” I look towards the kitchen to see my mother noseying in the pantry. Probably for a bottle of red wine. “Mom likes you already, I can tell.”

“She does?” Olivia whispers back. Her face is lit up, and the fact that she cares about what my mother thinks makes me feel warm, like I’ve already had a glass of wine.

“How could she not?” I respond softly as I find her hand. As our fingers interlock, hers brush over my bracelet.

“My dad would’ve liked you, too,” I add quietly, and I mean it. My dad was honest and no nonsense and an incredibly good judge of character. He would’ve loved Olivia and her fiery side. I tug on a strand of her coppery hair. “He also would have said I have good taste.”

Liv sticks her tongue out at me. “He would have been right.”

I squeeze her hand, her small palm pressing against mine as we walk back around the corner to join my mom and Nonna in the kitchen.

“Where’s the food, Nipotino?” Nonna demands.

“Right. The food.” I start, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

“This is what happens when we’re too busy making out in the hallway!” Nonna’s cackles follow me as I grab the food from the delivery man, giving him an apology in the vein of “please excuse my nutjob family.”

By the time I get back to the kitchen, Olivia’s clearly placated my heckling grandmother and they’re setting the table while Mom pours the wine. Nonna goes on to take the foil containers of food directly out of my hands and sniff them before announcing that we need to find a new Italian place because this one doesn’t smell authentic enough.

We finally sit down to eat all together in the dining room, and the lights on the Christmas tree shine bright behind us as Nonna says a blessing. The whole scene is entirely festive and cozy and domesticated, and dammit, I am here for it.

When Olivia raises her head, her eyes are full of an emotion that almost makes me wrap my arms around her and carry her upstairs. Not to do anything that Dallas would approve of, but to just hold her.

I’ve never brought a woman home to meet my family. But as I watch Livvy Griswold—the woman I’ve thought about for so many years—chat with my mom and ask my grandma about her favorite recipes, while every so often smiling at me across the table, it’s like my family has come home to meet her.

And it feels more right than anything ever has.