Chapter 23

I bring the last box labeled Christmas down from the attic and push it beside the others I carried down a few minutes prior. Ted must be in the holiday spirit because she rubs against my leg, purring loudly, proving she’s not the bitchy cat she likes to portray herself to be.

I reach down, patting her head. “You gotta start being nicer to Paige,” I warn her. “And for the love of fuck, would it kill you to be nice to Rocket? The poor bastard’s had it tough enough.”

She rubs her head against my hand, which I imagine is her saying, Fuck you. I’m a girl named Ted. I do what I want . Eventually, she struts away.

I’ve never been a cat guy. Yet here I am, with not one but two cats living in my house. But let’s be real; if Paige had told me she had ten cats, I would have moved them all in here without thinking twice and probably thanked her after.

I’m such a fucking sucker when it comes to my wife.

I got home from the arena a bit ago, and she isn’t back from work. Given it’s mid-November, I know that woman is itching to blast annoying Christmas tunes and sip coffee while staring at her tree. So, when I walked into the empty house, I figured I’d make her happy and bring everything down so that she could go to town, decorating our house. She’ll no doubt ask me to help, but then she’ll tell me all the ways I’m fucking it up, only in a polite, sweet way.

And like the pathetic asshole I am, I’ll love every second of it.

I thought about doing this a week ago because I know once Halloween passes, she’s in full Christmas spirit. But I wanted to wait until she gave me an answer. Now that she has, I want to see her smile when she gets home from the office and sees that her trees and her decorations are waiting to be put up.

Hearing her car pulling into the garage, I grin anxiously. I might be a heavily tattooed six-foot-tall dude, weighing two hundred ten pounds, but my wife still makes me nervous, even though she shouldn’t. Because things like lugging down some measly boxes of Christmas shit is the kind of stuff that makes her happy.

I hear her come into the house, and right away, I know she’s slipping her shoes off and hanging her jacket up. Warmth spreads through my chest, and that same sensation I used to feel when she came home from work and I was already here hits me.

“Hey, Ted,” she whispers. “Nice to see you too. Did you try to kill Rocket today?” There’s sarcasm in her voice.

I’m sure Ted is her usual asshole self and runs away.

I wait patiently in the living room, and when Paige comes into sight, her entire face lights up when she looks around.

“You brought the tree down?” she says, covering her mouth. “And I didn’t even have to ask ten times.”

As she walks to me, I throw my arm around her, tucking her into my side. “Hey. It’s a husband thing, okay? We just need reminders.”

She cranes her neck toward the tree and boxes of decorations. “But this time, you didn’t.” She looks up at me, poking her bottom lip out. “Do you love me lots?”

I chuckle when she says those words. Before things went to shit and she left, she always randomly asked me that even though she knew the answer. We could be driving somewhere or watching TV, and suddenly, she’d just blurt it out. I think it started out as a joke, but then it became our thing even though she knows damn well I love her.

“I suppose you’re all right,” I answer teasingly. “But, babe, how can you even ask me that after I brought your tree down and your insane number of boxes of Christmas shit? Oh, and before you ask me … yes, I put the one up in our bedroom too.”

Her eyebrows pull together, and she leaps upward, aggressively pushing her lips against mine. “Awww, you love me so much. You’re going to make me cry.”

Being married and having all the good years we did taught me one thing: it really is the little things that make her the happiest. And if I can keep taking care of those little things, everything else is going to be okay.

“I put your Christmas pajamas on the bed,” I murmur against her lips. “Go on, Buttercup.” I grin, knowing she’s so excited right now. “Go get your holly, jolly on.”

When she pulls back and bats her lashes at me, I know what’s coming next, even though I try my best not to lead on that I do.

“What about your pajamas?” She cups her hands together and pokes her lips out. “Please? Matchy-matchy?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose. She might look cute in her Christmas pajamas. Me? I look like a fucking weirdo. But here I go, about to go put them on even though they are way too tight on my dick and ball sack.

“Fine,” I grumble. “But you’d better suck my cock later and swallow if I’m about to cash in my manhood card for the night.”

She practically bounces up and down, giving me one more squeeze before stepping back. Her eyes dart around from box to box, like she has no idea where to start first. Finally, she rushes toward one of the smaller boxes and gradually opens it up.

“It’s the ornaments we’ve given each other over the years,” she whispers before holding up one of them. It has a hockey player figurine and a blonde-haired girl on it. She holds up another that has a gingerbread bride and groom, one I gave her our first Christmas as newlyweds.

“Every year, I’d hang these up, but I never really looked at them.” She stares down, wearing a sad smile. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

I know, more than anything, she wishes she could look in that box and pull out one that shows two figurines with a baby between them. She doesn’t have to say the words for me to know what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.

Taking a few steps toward her, I take the box from her and kiss her forehead. “I promise you, Paige, one day, you will open this box and pull out that one you’re longing for.” I murmur the words against her hair. “I’ll die trying to give you everything you wish for, baby.”

Her arms slide around my waist, and she smiles.

“I know you will,” she whispers. “But I have everything I need, Kolt. The rest … would just be a bonus.”

“It’s okay if that’s not true, Buttercup.” My voice is raspy. “Because as happy as I am and as full of a life I know the two of us will have—watching your belly grow and then seeing you become a mother?” I stop for a second to gather myself. “I want that too—so fucking bad.”

Her lips turn down for a second, and she slowly bobs her head up and down in understanding. “I know,” she murmurs. “It’s okay for us to want it and to long for it; that doesn’t take away from the love we have for each other just because we want more. But I think it’s also okay for us to be happy anyway—together. Even if having kids of our own isn’t in the plan.” She swallows. “Remember what we said? One day at a time?”

I nod. “One day at a time.”

Whatever life brings or doesn’t, I will die a happy man now that I have my wife back. Like she said though, it’s okay for us to want and long for starting a family. That doesn’t change the love we have for each other.

With only Christmas lights on, I snuggle into Kolt’s side as the movie Elf plays on the large TV in front of us. This is a yearly tradition we would do after we put the tree up. It’s a tradition I hope we can one day share with our children. And maybe even their children. But like we said, one day at a time.

If anyone saw Kolt, they’d never think a broody, gigantic, tattooed man would be at home, snuggled with his wife under a Christmas blanket, watching Elf .

Yet here we are. And no matter how many times we’ve seen it, we both laugh at the same funny parts because how can you not laugh at Will Ferrell?

His phone begins to vibrate, and I giggle inwardly when he pauses the movie to look at who it is, even though he knows what happens next.

“Klay is FaceTiming me,” he utters, staring at his phone.

“Go on,” I say, smiling. “No time like the present to tell your little brother how things are going, you know.”

Kolt slides his finger across the phone, and Klay’s handsome face comes on the screen.

“Why the fuck are you in the dark?” He grins. “I can hardly see you.” He moves closer. “The fuck are you wearing?”

Kolt squirms in his pajamas beside me. “Today was Christmas tree day, and—”

“You’re watching Elf , wearing matching pajamas, like a couple of nutjobs,” he says, still smiling. “Is that the side of your wife’s head that I’m seeing?”

Poking my face in front of the phone, I wave. “Hey, Klay.”

“Hey, sis.” His smile reaches his eyes, and he runs his hand over the top of his head. “About time you two figured your shit out. Holy shit, I might shed a tear, just looking at you guys right now.”

I glance at Kolt, who nods and says, “Yeah, yeah. We know.”

“Seriously, when did this happen?” Klay asks, happy yet confused. “I knew she was taking care of you while you healed, but I had no idea she was … taking care of you while you healed. ” He pauses, his eyes widening. “Wait, does this mean she’ll be at family Christmas this year?”

Kolt gives me a side-eye, a knowing smirk teasing at his lips. “I don’t know. Ask her.”

“I’ll be there.” I nod, grinning big. “Wouldn’t miss another.”

He seems pleased with that answer and gives me a cheesy thumbs-up. “Good. Sucked with just grouchy balls there last year. He didn’t even wear a Christmas sweater.”

I laugh, knowing damn well the only reason why Kolt ever wore a hideous sweater to Christmas was because I’d made him. So, of course, when I wasn’t around, he wouldn’t willingly do it.

“I’ll pick out the gaudiest, homeliest, loudest sweater for him this year to make up for it.” I wink. “I got you, brother.” Scootching to the edge of the couch, I wave. “I’ve got to pee. I’ll let you two—the grump and the sunshine boy—catch up.”

I head toward the bathroom and glance back at Kolt on the couch. I have to stifle the snort that comes from me at the sight of him in his pajamas. It’s a good thing he’s a confident dude because not many men would wear matching PJs with their wife and FaceTime with their brother.

Listening to them talk about Klay’s season and Kolt’s recovery sends a warm sensation through my chest. Even though I’m fortunate enough to have an amazing family of my own, Kolt’s family is as much my family too. And I missed them all. So much.