Chapter Twenty Seven

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

LEIGH

Snow gently falls outside, blanketing the ground in a fresh layer of white.

It’s the perfect Christmas morning aesthetic. Paired with Zach snuggling into my side after I pulled him into bed with me last night, it couldn’t be more perfect. Well, mostly—but hopefully that will change. If I don’t let my anxiety and fear get the best of me.

I glance down at Zach, memorizing for the millionth time his long lashes and tiny button nose. I’ve missed these moments the last few days. Though I can’t deny it’s been nice to have the help or that seeing Zach smile with the boys has made my heart burst.

Still, these moments where it’s just the two of us will always be my favorite.

He begins to stir, stretching his little limbs out like a starfish, signaling my moment of peace is coming to an end.

“Merry Christmas, sweet boy.” I press a kiss to his forehead, and he beams up at me with a lazy, toothy grin.

“Mewy Chwistmas,” he yawns.

I smile right back at him, knowing he’s been working with Bash and Enzo to say those two words for the last few days.

“You ready to go see what Santa brought you?”

“Santa!” he mimics loudly, though I’m not sure he completely understands, but he understands the “go” and it’s clear he is more than ready.

After changing him and slipping myself into a set of appropriate flannel pajamas, we make the long walk from the bedrooms to the main living room.

The smell of coffee wraps me in a warm hug, and I tell myself no matter what happens, at least there’s a hot cup of coffee to feed my soul or catch my tears. Either way, this morning is about Zach.

Practically bouncing with each step, Zach tugs my hand forcefully, mumbling the names of Luca and his best friends in excitement.

I just hope the four of them share the same sentiment. There’s no way of knowing what I’m going to walk in on, if the guys are even awake yet. I considered going to find Luca last night to talk but figured it would be best to let us each have the night to process. God knows I needed it. With the sun came more clarity—and anxiety—but also a weird sort of anxious peace.

It’s an oxymoron, I know, but that’s the best way I can describe it. Logically, I know everything is still a clusterfuck, but at the same time, my heart and mind know I can’t keep hiding behind these walls.

Thankfully, I know Luca won’t let me. I just need to see if he’ll meet me halfway.

I hope he’ll meet me halfway.

When we enter the living room, my eyes stay glued on Zach. He stops in his tracks, his eyes going wide with wonder.

“Wooow,” he gasps with all the innocence of a child, and I wish I could bottle the moment and keep it forever to remember what the magic of Christmas looks like.

Zach takes off running, and I follow his movements across the room, stopping first at the stockings overflowing with tiny toys and presents, next to a giant play Range Rover that Luca insisted he needed. From there, he follows the Santa footprints to the tree, stepping in each of them as he goes. I can’t help but let my thoughts drift, knowing they’re Luca’s footprints—and if he grows up to have even half that man's heart, the world will be a better place. Finally, Zach turns and runs over to the couch, jumping into the space between Luca and Enzo. Bash and Holt sit on the opposite side of the sectional.

I didn’t even realize they were in the room, all of them sitting like silent statues as they watch my son.

Luca sweeps Zach into his arms and wishes him a Merry Christmas, which Zach excitedly returns before pulling away and greeting each one of his uncles in the same manner.

As he does, Luca stands and grabs a steaming mug from the coffee table and closes the space between us. Dressed in a navy blue robe over a pair of flannel pants, with scruff and unkept hair, he looks every bit the role of Dad on Christmas morning. He’s even got on fuzzy slippers to complete the ensemble.

My breath catches in my throat as he hands me the coffee, my fingers brushing his, and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead. I feel the ease of it course through my body all the way to my toes.

Cautiously, I pull back to search his eyes for any indication of where he’s at—where we’re at.

“Merry Christmas, Leigh.”

Leigh.

Not Little Thief.

There was a time he called me that out of anger. And then once I knew the true meaning, it was out of adoration. But my name? It lacks both, leaving me with nothing to go on.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper.

His lips curve up, a good sign we’re not about to have a fight and ruin Christmas morning. He takes a step back and extends his arm, offering for me to pass him and join the group.

“Now that the guest of honor is here”—his eyes dart to where Zach is snuggling in Enzo’s lap—“let’s get Christmas morning started.”

I clench my jaw to keep it from dropping.

That’s it?

That’s all I get?

No explanation. No fight. No demands.

Just a kiss on the forehead and we’re moving on?

“Leigh? Are you coming?” Luca’s voice pulls me back, and my eyes track to where he’s now sitting on the floor, playing Santa and handing everyone their stockings.

Dumbfounded as to what the hell is going on, I nod and pad across the short distance and sit across from him. Zach races from the couch to my lap and tears into the stocking Luca hands him, holding up each toy for me to examine and tossing aside the new toothbrush I made sure was in there for him.

“Just go with it,” Luca whispers. “There’ll be time to make sense of everything later.”

I nod silently, not because I don’t have anything to say—because trust me, there is so much I want to say to this man—but because I’m afraid if I speak, a sob will be the first thing that comes out.

Swallowing hard, I blink away my tears, watching as Zach finishes with his stocking and moves on to examining his new Range Rover.

It’s the first year he’s old enough to start getting into the excitement of Christmas morning and instead of fighting with me or demanding we figure things out, Luca is giving me—us—the gift of experiencing it without any of the weight of paternity, relationships, or what comes next.

Don’t get me wrong, I still feel it in every smile Luca gives me and the longing side glances he gives Zach when he thinks none of us are looking.

We spend the morning laughing and smiling as we watch Zach shred open gift after gift. So many that I’m not sure how the heck we’re going to get them all back to New York. Luca assures me it won’t be a problem, but I’m more worried about where I’m going to house them.

Bash disappears only to return with fresh baked cinnamon rolls, and of course, a mimosa flight—with orange, cranberry and pineapple juices as options— for each of us. Because according to him, it’s not Christmas without champagne to celebrate. He’s even got sparkling cider for Zach in a sippy cup champagne flute.

By the time we’re done with gifts and breakfast, we’re well lubricated enough that Enzo, Holt, and Bash provide us with entertainment, singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas, but with each of them only singing one word at a time. They only make it through one verse before they start making up the words, and by the end of the second, we’re all laughing too hard to continue.

It’s perfect.

Every fucking moment of it.

And I’ve never been so sure this is where we’re meant to be.

I silently get up and whisper in Enzo’s ear, watching as a knowing smile tips his lips. He nods and stands from the couch, tipping his head at Holt and Bash before he goes and crouches in front of Zach. “Hey little man, want to go outside and see how fast the car can drive in the snow?”

“Enzo,” Luca warns.

“Just on the deck, Enzo,” I reiterate.

“So we can’t see if it fits in a gondola and go cruise the main strip for ladies?” Holt asks, already up and tugging a coat over his pajamas.

“Not this time. Maybe after his nap.”

“Deal,” Bash agrees, slipping his shoes on.

The three of them grab my son and make themselves scarce, leaving me alone with Luca.

I spin around to where he’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, eyeing me suspiciously. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get me alone.”

I resist the urge to slide up between his legs and run my hands through his hair. Talking first. There will be time for that later. Hopefully. I told Enzo I needed at least an hour.

Crossing the room, I slip behind the tree and pull out the envelope I’d nestled in the branches last night.

Luca’s shoulders tense the moment he realizes what’s in my hands, but he doesn’t say anything, only watches intently as I stop in front of the fireplace.

I glance down one last time and find exactly zero doubt in my heart when it comes to what I hold in my hands. When I look back up, my eyes track every inch of Luca’s face, and I can’t wait to calm the anxiety in his features.

“Let me start by saying thank you.”

“You know what that phrase does to me.” There’s a hint of hope in his tone, and it only reminds me that this man is the exact opposite of me. Which is why he’s exactly what I need.

“I know.” I smile playfully. “And I hope I get to make you hard by uttering them for a very long time.”

“Leigh.” Luca exhales, his hope wavering. “What are you saying? Because I’m on edge here and I don’t know what I’m allowed to say.”

“I’m saying I was wrong.”

He raises a brow. “Come again?”

Holding steady eye contact, the same way he does when he wants to make sure I’m listening, I inhale a long breath. “I was wrong last night for demanding you look at these.” I lift the envelope, noting the way he frowns. “I was afraid. None of this is what I planned. I didn’t come here expecting to find a family. I wanted to make sure you knew you might have a son and get our work done in time to get home for Christmas. But then you were…you. Frustratingly sweet, annoyingly persistent, and totally fuckable.”

His wicked grin makes an appearance. “I’m going to add those to my resume.”

“Of course you are,” I huff, rolling my eyes.

“But if we’re admitting faults, I was wrong too.” Luca stands and closes the distance between us in four swift steps. “I shouldn’t have gotten ahead of myself. You aren’t one to jump five steps ahead without a fifteen-point plan and a list of to dos. I won’t take it back because, if you’ll have me, I fully intend on marrying the shit out of you. But I promise I’ll try to look before I leap.”

I open my mouth to protest his proposal, as this is exactly what scares me, but Luca continues.

“Calm that pretty little mind of yours. I mean someday, Leigh. Not today. Not tomorrow. But someday, if you’ll have me, the offer will always be there.” He reaches down and takes the hand not holding the results, intertwining it in his. “The question is, Leigh, what do you want? Because I’ve already told you, I don’t need those.” He dips his head toward the envelope.

“Neither do I.”

His lips part, and he does his best to hide his shock. “Don’t fuck with me, Little Thief.”

“I’m not.” And to prove it, I turn around and toss the unopened results into the fire.

The moment they are engulfed in flames, Luca wraps me in his arms. I chuckle against his chest before pulling back and bracketing his jaw with my hand. “You knocked down all my walls with those big ass feet of yours, and I’m glad you did. I’m still terrified we’re moving too fast, but there isn’t anyone else I can imagine sharing moments like these with. Zach loves you, and he deserves the world. A paternity test won’t give him that. You will.”

Tears fall freely down his face, and I wipe them away with my thumb.

“And what about you, Leigh?” His lip quivers. “Are you saying you love me too?”

I smirk, “I’m saying if you’re a good boy, I’d be willing to tolerate you for the foreseeable future.”

“Close enough,” he chuckles and slants his lips over mine. But before he presses against me, he stops. “For the record, I love you too.”

He loves me.

And even though I didn’t say it out loud, I think I love him too.

Luca threads his fingers through my hair at the same time his hand grips my hip, pulling gently with both, so there is no part of us not touching.

It’s as if we are two lost puzzle pieces, finally figuring out how to fit together. It’s magical.

He lets out a gruff moan of relief and I part my mouth, delving into his to deepen our kiss. Slow and measured, we explore each other until I’m not sure where he ends, and I begin.

And I get the feeling maybe that’s the way we’re supposed to be.

He pulls away, only slightly, and smiles. “We should go out, so you don’t miss seeing Zach in his new whip.”

“Are you sure?” I run my hand up his chest, gently grazing the bars in his nipples. “As much as I want to see a toddler driving a Range Rover, Enzo promised me an entire hour for us to kiss and make up. And I might have a matching set of those panties you liked so much in red.”

“As enticing as that sounds,” he says, tilting his hips so his already hardening cock presses against my core, “and believe me, it’s enticing as shit, but I plan on kissing you under the mistletoe for years to come. Let’s go spend this first Christmas with our family.”

Our family.

The fear that once consumed me, that I would lose Zach and end up alone for the rest of my days, melts away under his blue-eyed gaze.

Because while people leave us—through death or of their own volition—some people stay, and that’s what I’m choosing to hold on to.

I look up at Luca and smile, content and at peace. “Thank you for bringing back the magic of Christmas.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “And then you had to go and thank me.”

“I’m just saying, I think our family can wait long enough for you to bend me over the couch real quick.”

Luca groans again and buries his face in the crook of my neck. “Are you sure you won’t marry me?”

I give a coy chuckle. “Not today.”

He pulls back and smiles, pressing his forehead to mine. “But you’re saying there’s a chance?”

God, I love this man’s unwavering hope.

“Make me come and I’ll consider it.”

Luca’s hands cup my ass, and lifts my legs locking them around his hips. In four long strides, we’re at the sofa. He tosses me down, drops to his knees, and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my pajamas.

“I’ll make you come every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to keep you.”

And then kisses me under the mistletoe.