Justus had never feltsuch contentment as he did seeing the children’s faces light up while they opened presents. Ribbons and shiny paper were littered beneath the tree, and Knox was chasing the puppy around the room like it was his new favorite toy. Sadie strummed a soft melody on her guitar while everyone conversed and sipped hot coffee. Zoë had new barrettes in her hair, which she was showing off to everyone. Rose, not as hyperactive as the other two, was content to sit still and play with her toys.
Silver had excused herself to baste the turkeys and finish preparing lunch. Logan followed behind and stated as fact that he was helping her for the remainder of the day. Justus chuckled as she balked at Logan’s offer and flashed out the door ahead of him.
Page leaned back in her chair by the hearth, encased in an enchanting aura of rich gold and shadows from the firelight.
Justus reached behind the tree and retrieved a box. “Rose, I have another gift.”
She set down a doll and looked up with expectant eyes. After tearing away the red paper, she looked at the box. “What is it?”
He knelt down and rubbed the tattoo on his right arm. “It lights up on the ceiling. At night you can look at the stars.”
Maybe the gift was too mature or too boyish for Rose. Sometimes he forgot that maybe little girls just wanted to play with dolls.
His heart sank when she pushed the box away and stood up. It shouldn’t have mattered what a small child thought of his gift, but Justus was new to fatherhood.
But then Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too,” he whispered back.
“Can I play with it now?”
Justus let go and pinched her cheek. “Let me set it up, and you’re not to touch the machine or the cord.” He opened the box, pulled out the projector, and searched for a socket on the nearby wall.
Page and Novis noisily cleared away the torn paper and ribbons, stuffing them into a large trash bag.
After tucking the cord beneath the rug so no one would trip over it, Justus set the projector on the floor and switched it on.
“Whoa!” Knox exclaimed from across the room. He ran over, his eyes looking up at the ceiling.
Sunny caught him just in time as he stumbled over the edge of the carpet. “Slow down, little man.”
Justus tossed a few blankets and oversized pillows onto the floor. The children gathered around and passed out the stockings. They turned onto their backs with chocolates in their hands and dreams in their eyes as they watched a visual display of supernovas, colorful nebulas, and stars twinkling across the ceiling.
Novis sipped his merlot. “Mind if I ask where you bought that?”
Justus chuckled. “It was a custom job, but I’ll give you his number.”
“Very clever. A gift that makes them lie still.”
Ella had fallen asleep on the couch, a blanket over her legs and her head resting in Simon’s lap. She’d passed on breakfast, but not the glass of wine that Simon had offered to warm her up. It was good to see them together even though neither of them had made any public declaration about their relationship. Simon needed stability in his life, and a good woman has a way of making a man want to change for the better.
Lucian raised his arms and chanted a victory cry from the table where he was playing checkers with Finn. Sadie peered at them with mild interest while strumming a few chords on her guitar. It was the kind of melody that made a man want to sit with a glass of wine, close his eyes, and reflect on his life. Some of the tunes had been Christmas songs, but this was something he hadn’t heard before.
“What are you doing?” Page asked when he reached behind the tree.
Justus pulled out a large, flat present and set it in front of her.
“What’s this?” she whispered. “I thought we said no gifts?”
Justus didn’t answer. He stepped around the children and sat on the sofa on the opposite side of the fireplace, watching anxiously. Instant regret settled in when she began tearing the paper at the top and then ripped it down the back. Maybe he should have given it to her upstairs.
Or not at all.
She had it facing the wrong way, and when she turned it around to remove the rest of the paper, her jaw slackened. “Justus.” Tears glittered in her eyes as she admired his gift.
Justus had spent months on the oil painting. He’d titled itMes Anges. It was a portrait of a sleeping mother and child.
Page and Rose to be exact.
