Chapter 36
Holly
Ishift slightly, turning within the circle of Denton’s arm to face him. He stirs, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes flutter open to meet mine in the gentle morning light. A slow, drowsy smile curves his lips, transforming the usually stern lines of his face. It’s a smile just for me, unguarded and tender.
This is the third morning in a row I’ve woken up next to him and I can’t believe how amazing it all feels.
“Morning,” he murmurs, as he pulls me closer to him.
“Morning,” I whisper back, my heart doing a slow, joyful flip in my chest. The sheer normalcy of it, the quiet intimacy of waking up beside him, feels like a dream. “Merry Christmas.”
His smile deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Holly.”
He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold mine. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Mmm,” I hum, snuggling closer, resting my head on his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear is the most comforting sound in the world. “Better than okay. So much better.”
His arm tightens around me, pulling me flush against him. He presses another kiss to the top of my head. “Good,” he says. “Me too.” We lie there in comfortable silence for a few moments, wrapped in the quiet peace of the morning.
The peace is shattered by the rapidpitter-patterof small feet on hardwood, growing louder by the second. Then the knock on the door comes.
“Daddy! Holly! Wake up! It’sChristmas! Santa came! He really did! Comesee!”
Tabby’s voice, high-pitched with barely contained excitement, pierces the quiet. Denton groans softly, burying his face in my hair for a second before lifting his head. “We’re awake, Tabby Cat!” he calls back, his voice rough but warm. “Give us two minutes, okay?”
A dramatic sigh filters through the door. “Oooookay. But hurry! There’s presents! Big ones!”
Her footsteps retreat, a little slower this time, probably hovering just down the hall.
Denton chuckles. He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. His hair is adorably mussed, his eyes still soft with sleep and contentment. “I was hoping for a few more minutes alone with you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine again. “Ready to face the Tabby whirlwind?”
I grin up at him, the last bits of sleepiness vanishing under a wave of pure affection. “Absolutely! Christmas morning is the most exciting morning of the year. Especially when you’re with a five-year-old.”
It turns out Tabby is one hundred percent fine with me having ‘sleepovers’ with her dad. The morning after I first stayed the night, I got up early and left before she was up yet. She immediately let Denton know that she wanted me to be here in the morning. Every morning if possible, actually. We both got a good laugh out of that and haven’t looked back.
We disentangle ourselves, the cool air hitting my skin as I slide out of the warm bed. Denton grabs a pair of sweatpants from a nearby chair, pulling them on along with a plaid flannel shirt.
I grab my own sweatpants and sweater and shrug them on.
Denton takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together. The simple act, so natural now, sends a wave of warmth through me.
The living room is bathed in the pale morning light. The tree glitters in the corner, its lights casting a warm, festive glow. Tinsel shimmers, ornaments gleam, and nestled underneath the branches, spilling out onto the rug, is a huge pile of presents wrapped in bright paper and adorned with oversized bows.
Tabby stands in the middle of it all, her energy barely contained. She’s wearing footed pajamas patterned with dancing elves, her dark hair shooting every which way, her eyes wide with Christmas morning wonder.
The sight of it – the tree, the presents, the joy radiating from Tabby – hits me square in the chest. It’s everything I’d ever imagined a perfect Christmas morning could be, amplified a thousand times because it’sours. Denton squeezes my hand.
Tabby spins around as we enter, her face lighting up like the tree itself. “You’re awake! Finally!” She bounces on the balls of her feet, pointing dramatically at the pile. “Look! Santa came! He broughtso manypresents! See? See the big red one? And the sparkly gold one? And that squishy one? And?—!”
She stops abruptly, her gaze zeroing in on our joined hands. Her eyes widen further, darting from our hands to Denton’s face, then to mine. A slow, radiant smile spreads across her face, brighter than any ornament on the tree. “You’re holding hands,” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. “Just like a family.”
The simple statement, spoken with such innocent certainty, steals my breath. I look at Denton. His eyes are suspiciouslybright as he looks down at Tabby, then back at me. He squeezes my hand again, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Yeah, Tabby Cat,” he says. “Like a family.”
Tabby beams, clapping her hands together. “Good! Now can we open presents? Pleeeease?”
Denton laughs, a warm, rich sound that fills the room. “Alright, alright. Present opening time. But first…” He gestures towards the sofa. “Hot cocoa?”
“Yes!” Tabby scrambles onto the plush cream sofa, tucking her feet underneath her. “With extra marshmallows! And sprinkles!”
