My heart skips a beat. I look up at him, questioning. He just nods, his expression serious, expectant. I carefully peel back the gold paper, revealing a plain white box. I lift the lid.
Inside, nestled on a bed of white gauze, is a key. Not a car key or a fancy fob. It’s a simple, sturdy bronze key.
I stare at it, confused for a second. Then it hits me. The apartment. He’s giving me a key to his apartment.
I look up at him, my throat tight. “Denton…”
He takes a breath, his thumb brushing over the key in my palm. “It’s a key to the apartment. This place…” He gestures around the apartment, now filled with warmth and light and the happiness of a child. “…it’s no longer just my place. It’s becomeours. Mine, and Tabby’s, andyours, Holly. Whenever you’re ready. No pressure. No expectations. I just want you to know that eventually I’d like you to live here with us.”
Tears prick my eyes, blurring the image of the key. It’s a symbol of belonging, of being chosen, not just in the heat of a grand declaration, but in the quiet light of Christmas morning.
I curl my fingers around the key, the cool metal warming instantly against my skin. I look up at Denton, at the love and hope shining so clearly in his stormy eyes, free of walls for the first time. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.
Denton leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s soft, sweet, and filled with a depth of feeling that leaves me breathless.
“Ooooh! I saw you two kissing!” Tabby’s voice breaks the moment. We pull apart, laughing. She’s standing by the coffee table, holding her new apron and oven mitts, grinning impishly. “Can we make pancakes now? With chocolate chips? And sprinkles?”
Denton chuckles, resting his forehead against mine for a second before looking over at his daughter. “Pancakes with chocolate chips and sprinkles coming right up.” He stands, offering me his hand. “Team effort?”
I take his hand, letting him pull me up. “Team effort,” I agree, squeezing his fingers. I tuck the precious key safely into the pocket of my sweatpants.
We migrate to the kitchen. Denton expertly mixes the batter while I fry bacon, the sizzle and pop adding to the symphony of Christmas morning. Tabby helps flip the first group of pancakes and then sets the table with meticulous care. The air fills with the mouthwatering scents of frying bacon, vanilla batter, and rich coffee.
I flip some more pancakes, watching the bubbles form and pop on the golden surface. Beside me, Denton hums ‘Deck the Halls’, his shoulder brushing mine as he reaches for the chocolate chips and sprinkles.
Tabby chatters excitedly about the pancakes. The scene is pure pandemonium – batter drips onto the pristine counter,bacon grease spatters the stovetop, sprinkles decorate the floor like festive confetti. It’s messy and out of control.
And it’s absolutely, utterly perfect.
My phone buzzes with a text from Charlie.
Merry Christmas, babe! Everything still going well?
I smile while I type back:
SOOO good! I’ll update you later. Merry Christmas!
She knows all about what’s happened the last few days and, of course, she was there for Denton’s big speech the other night. I know she’s still a little worried things will go south again and I love her for worrying about me.
I look at Denton, his profile softened in the morning light, a smudge of flour on his cheek from where he’d brushed his hair back. He catches my gaze and smiles, a slow, warm curve of his lips that reaches his eyes, turning them the soft gray of a winter dawn. My heart swells.
He’s not the grumpy defenseman anymore. He’s just Denton. My Denton. Tabby’s dad. And together, in this kitchen filled with warmth and the promise of pancakes, surrounded by the glittering evidence of our shared holiday, we are home.
Chapter 37
Holly
In the past several weeks, so much has happened it makes my head spin.
First off, Sugar Rush was saved. Denton did just as he described he would and saved the whole block from development with the help of some investors.
I took the biggest sigh of relief when it was all said and done. My bakery and my dreams were still alive. I could keep getting up every morning and doing what I loved – making tasty treats for the wonderful people in my neighborhood who come to my bakery because it makes a difference in their lives.
The next big bit of news was that Tony Taviani had been arrested for tax evasion. This wasn’t a huge surprise to me – the man seemed to seriously lack scruples – but I also couldn’t believe that happened.
I’ve also started sleeping at my own little apartment less and less and spending more time at Denton’s place. There have been plenty of ‘sleepovers’ and I’ve gotten really good at being quiet so Tabby doesn’t hear any of our ‘late night activities’.
We’ve spent loads of family time together every week – dinners with Tabby and sometimes Denton’s mom, taking Tabby to the new ballet classes she’s started, weekend movienights with way too much popcorn and soda and quiet Sunday afternoons where we all lay around in the living room reading.
