“Then spend it with us,” I say quietly. “Let this be the first of many.”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and I can practically see her running through every scenario, every risk, every possible disaster. “Okay,” she finally says. “I’ll stay.”
I step forward, ready to pull her close again, but footsteps creak overhead. We both freeze.
“Desiree?” Gina’s voice carries down the stairs. “You find the wine okay?”
“Shit,” Desiree breathes.
I grab two bottles at random, pressing them into her hands. “Go. I’ll join you soon.”
She hesitates, then calls up: “Yeah! Just browsing.”
The footsteps retreat. Desiree exhales slowly.
She looks at me one more time, then heads for the stairs. I watch her go, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to follow her.
She’s staying.
When I finally climb the stairs, I can hear Bella’s voice before I even reach the kitchen. The sound centers me—reminds me why I need to be careful, thoughtful. No matter what happens between Desiree and me, Bella comes first.
“Daddy!” She spots me the second I enter, frosting smeared on both cheeks. “Look! I maked a snowman for Santa!”
“Made,” Desiree and I correct in unison. Our eyes meet, and she smiles before looking away. There’s flour dusting her braids, and the mark I left on her collarbone has deepened to a dark rose.
“Santa’s gonna love it, B,” I add.
“Daddy, why are you smiling like that?” Bella scrunches her nose. “You look silly.”
Across the island, Penny snorts. “Uncle’s always silly.”
“Not always,” Mycah protests, looking up from the reindeer he’s carefully outlining in brown frosting. He’s trying to maintain his too-cool-for-this facade, but the concentration on his face gives him away.
I force my expression to neutral. “Do I look silly?”
“Super silly,” Asher confirms cheerfully, waving a frosting-covered spatula that sends droplets of green across the counter. “Like when you tried to build that snowman earlier, and it fell over!”
“That was the wind’s fault,” I protest.
Gina catches the spatula mid-wave. “Asher, baby, let’s keep the frosting on the cookies.” She wipes the counter with a cloth, then gives me a look over the kids. “Though Enrick does seem particularly jolly today.”
Maverick doesn’t miss a beat. “You know, Bells, I think your dad just really loves Christmas cookies.” He reaches over to steady Isa’s cookie before she dumps half the sprinkle container on it. “Right, Enrick?”
I push away from the counter, heading for the sink. “Must be the Christmas spirit.”
The water runs cold over my hands. Behind me, the conversation flows around the kitchen.
“Penny, that tree is actually really good,” Desiree says.
“Thanks! I’ve been practicing.” There’s a pause, the sound of frosting tubes being swapped. “Hey, can you pass me the red? I want to do ornaments.”
“Can I put sparkles on mine?” Isa asks.
“Me too!” Bella demands. “Daddy, come sit! You gotta help!”
I turn to find her patting the stool beside hers—the only empty seat at the island, wedged between her and Desiree. Penny’s on Desiree’s other side. Mycah and Asher flank Maverick on the opposite side, while Gina moves between them all.
“Daddy, sit here!” Bella insists again.
