“Maddie!” I squeak, my face bursting into flames, “there are children present.”
Cole groans. “This is an actual nightmare.”
Marla waves a hand, cheeks flushed. “We don’t need the details.” In a quieter voice, she says to me, “Hailey, dear, are you happy?”
That question hits harder than I expect. I look over at Cole, this man who drives me crazy sexually and makes me feel more like myself than I have in years, even after just a few weeks. I nod. “Yeah,” I say, my throat tight. “Really happy.”
Something in his expression shifts. The frustration fades, replaced with that quiet tenderness he never shows in front of people. He sets his mug down and turns to face the room, his voice steady but low. “Look, I get that this is a lot. But I love her.”
The air leaves my lungs in a rush. Every conversation, every touch, every stolen look that we’ve kept behind closed doors suddenly feels so small compared to hearing him confess it to his family.
There’s a collective gasp, followed by Maddie’s delighted shriek. “Oh my God!”
Marla’s hand flies to her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. Even Mr. Bristol looks soft around the edges, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well,” he says, “that’s one way to make an announcement.”
Cole glances at me. “So much,” he murmurs.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. I step closer to him, our shoulders brushing. “I love him too.”
A few people actually clap. Someone whistles. The neighbors who were supposedly leaving hours ago start hugging each other like we’ve just delivered the season finale of some emotional play.
Marla laughs through her tears, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “Well, Merry Christmas to me. I’ve always wanted another daughter.”
“Guess that makes this officially a Bristol Christmas miracle,” Mr. Bristol says, chuckling as he finally relents and raises his hot chocolate. “To the happy couple.”
“To the happy couple!” echoes through the living room.
Cole’s hand slides into mine, rough and warm. He leans in, voice low enough only I can hear. “Told you it’d be okay.”
I smile up at him, still dazed. “You also told me no one would find out.”
“Yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I was wrong about that part.”
Across the room, Maddie snaps a picture, then grins. “Okay, fine, I approve. You two are disgustingly cute.”
“Delete that,” Cole warns.
“Not a chance.”
The chaos eventually dissolves. The kids abandon story hour for sugar cookies. The neighbors finally, mercifully, decide they’ve gotten their entertainment for the night and trickle back out into the snow led by Jim singing at the top of his lungs.
By the time the house quiets, it’s just family again. Maddie’s curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under her as she stares at Cole and me with a mischievous grin.
Cole’s hand rests low on my back, thumb moving in slow, lazy strokes that make my heart trip all over again. It’s the first moment I’ve felt like I can actually breathe since the porch incident.
He leans down, lips brushing my temple. “I’m going to help Dad outside before he starts another neighborhood sing-along.”
I nod, smiling up at him. “Go. I’ll… do damage control.”
He kisses me once more before heading for the door.
I turn toward the couch, nerves tightening my stomach. “Hey, Mads?” I cross the room and sink down beside her. My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to. “I’m so sorry you found out like that.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Like what? In front of my parents, the neighbors, and the entire children’s choir?”
“Exactly that.”
She holds my gaze for a long second, and I can’t read her. Maddie Bristol, my partner in crime since kindergarten, the girl who held my hair while I puked tequila senior year and swore we’d never let a guy come between us.
