“Look at you, all decisive and shit.” He clasps my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, bro. Mom and dad would be too.”
“Thanks.”
“But you’re not going anywhere until you help me finish the kitchen.” He tosses the dishtowel at my chest. “Those pots aren’t going to scrub themselves.”
I catch it reflexively, and I laugh. “You’re an asshole.”
By the time we finish in the kitchen, everyone has gathered in the living room. The room glows with candlelight and the soft twinkle of Christmas tree lights.
Desiree changed into soft pajama pants and a fitted long-sleeve shirt. When I settle onto the couch beside her, I catch the scent of her orange-blossom moisturizer.
“Finally,” Penny says from her spot on the floor. “Uncle takes forever to wash dishes.”
“Quality work takes time,” I defend.
Bella scrambles up from the floor and wedges herself between us. “Daddy, sit closer to Mommy so I fit better.”
Desiree leans into the contact as I shift closer, eliminating the small space between us. Our bodies align from shoulder to knee.
Bella wiggles contentedly between us, and when Desiree’s hand finds mine behind Bella’s back, I lace our fingers together. Her thumb strokes across my knuckles, and I know she’s thinking about tonight too.
“Alright, everyone settled?” Maverick asks from his armchair, Gina perched on the arm beside him. He holds an old leather Bible our mother used to read from every Christmas Eve.
“Can we have hot chocolate during the story?” Asher asks hopefully.
“You had two mugs after dinner,” Gina reminds him.
“But I want more!”
“The story first, then we’ll see,” Maverick says, which I know means ‘definitely not.’
Mycah rolls his eyes from his spot on the other couch. “Just read already, Mr. Maverick.”
“Patience,” Maverick says mildly, finding his place. “This is important.”
Isa climbs into Gina’s lap, thumb in her mouth, while Penny braids her hair absently. The room settles into expectant quiet.
“In those days,” Maverick begins, his deep voice filling the room, “Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world...”
I’ve heard this story every Christmas of my life, but tonight it hits differently. Joseph protecting Mary, making sure she had shelter, keeping his family safe despite impossible circumstances. The shepherds — ordinary men given extraordinary news. The wise men, following a star on faith alone.
Bella leans against my arm, her eyes wide as Maverick describes the angels appearing to the shepherds. Desiree’s watching Maverick, but a small smile plays at her lips—the same smile she gave me right before she tasted herself on my fingers.
My dick twitches at the memory. Completely inappropriate for the moment, but I can’t help it. Can’t separate the sacred from the profane when it comes to her. Both feel like worship.
This is what I dreamed of for the past five years. Not just having Bella for Christmas, but having them both. Having Desiree’s warmth beside me, Bella safe between us, the three of us existing in the same space.
“And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen,” Maverick concludes, closing the Bible.
“Is that why we have Christmas?” Bella asks. “Because baby Jesus was born?”
“That’s right, B,” Desiree says.
“And because of presents,” Asher adds practically.
“Asher,” Gina scolds, but she’s smiling.
“It’s true!” Mycah supported.
