“It’s snowing. I know,” I said.
“When I came out from the house, there were five or six inches on the ground, and it was still coming down in big, fluffy flakes.”
I frowned, thinking the drive home with my worn tires would not be fun.
“Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Luke said. “We’ve been careful around Addie, but I want to wake up next to you on Christmas morning. Here, in my bed.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave me a knowing look I didn’t quite understand until he said, “There’re six inches of snow out there, Mags. I believe you’re officially snowed in.”
I smiled, my whole body going hot imagining spending a full night with him and waking up beside him. “I didn’t bring any pajamas with me. What ever will I do?”
With a sexy growl, he said, “You’ll have to sleep naked, I’m afraid.”
“Won’t I get cold with no pajamas on?”
“I promise I’ll keep you warm.”
“That’s a really good offer,” I said, my temperature already rising.
“In the morning, I’ll lend you some sweats, and we’ll do Christmas morning the Durham way. Casual, with lots of presents, lots of food, and lots of love.”
Tears filled my eyes again. Who knew one person could produce so many freaking tears? This time they were from utter joy. “Tomorrow will be my very first true, love-filled, family Christmas. There’s no one in the world I’d rather experience that with than you. I love you, Luke.”
“I love you, Mags.”
We disentangled ourselves and stood, left the dozens of battery-operated candles glowing, and ventured out into the snowy night together.
Epilogue
Luke
We hadn’t had a Christmas like this since I was a teenager, when my mom was healthy and seemingly happy.
Our old farmhouse was warm, cozy, and brimming with love, family, and holiday spirit. The whole main floor smelled of the cinnamon rolls we’d devoured as we’d opened presents and the ham I’d put in the oven once the rolls were out.
Waking up with Magnolia in my bed had brought me a peace like I’d never felt before. A sense of completeness, rightness.
This had always been my home, but it’d never felt quite like this.
Making love to Magnolia until the early-morning hours didn’t hurt either. I didn’t even care that my body was tired. My heart was full.
And my nerves were buzzing with anticipation and—I could own it—fear.
“I still can’t get over these,” my dad said, sitting in his recliner and studying the gifts Magnolia had given him. She’d presented my dad with three framed, color sketches of his favorite tractors with their names, Matilda, Dolly, and Jane, underneath. She’d come up with the idea after being here for Thanksgiving and had hired one of the artists at the art studio outside of town to bring it to life.
“Even on the coldest days when you don’t have to go outside,” Magnolia, who was curled up on the sofa next to me, said, “you’ll be able to see your workhorses.”
“And you’ll have a piece of Mom too,” I pointed out, since she’d been the namer of tractors.
I did a double take as my crusty old father wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“I just love ’em, Miss Magnolia,” he said. “I’m going to hang ’em on that wall over there so I can see ’em all the time.”
“Your ‘ladies’ will look great on that wall,” Magnolia told him. “Thank you all for my presents. I love everything so much.” She held up the thick sweater Addie had picked out for her with an appreciative grin, then brushed the soft yarn against her cheek. “This is the softest sweater ever, Addie.”
In addition to the physical gifts, Magnolia had heard from her mother earlier. Bianca had apologized for their argument the other day and acknowledged Magnolia’s point was valid, so they’d made a tentative peace. Then she’d revealed that Felix’s house was on the market. The asshole was leaving town.
