John leans over, his eyes widening as he catches sight of the locket. “Wow, Grandma. Are you sure?”
Maggie nods, her voice unwavering. “Positive.”
“I’ll put it on you.” John’s fingers brush against mine as he takes the necklace and fastens it around my neck with warm, steady hands. Something flutters in my chest. For the first time since Grandpa passed, I don’t feel like it’s just me and Powerfluff. I’m no longer alone.
The gift-giving continues around us, each present met with genuine gratitude and laughter. John’s aunt Tess opens a setof gourmet spices. “Oh, I know exactly what to do with these.” His great-uncle Rusty dons a new fishing hat and strikes an exaggerated pose. Everyone laughs, and that only makes him pretend to cast with an imaginary rod.
I stare in disbelief. There’s no rivalry over gifts—just love. Every gift, no matter how small, is treated like the greatest treasure. I realize this isn’t about the gifts, but about the connection of being together and celebrating one another.
My chest aches. I’m witnessing what a true family gathering should be—full of warmth, laughter, and acceptance. This is what I want, not only today but…forever.
After the gift opening, I grab a mug of hot chocolate and sit on the back porch swing, staring at the star-filled night sky. The air is cool, and my breath forms clouds like it did in my freezing apartment, but my drink keeps me warm.
“I wondered where you’d gone,” John says, stepping outside onto the porch.
I scoot over to make room for him on the porch swing. “Just…thinking. Your family is amazing.”
He settles beside me, his arm draping casually across the back of the swing. “They can be a bit much sometimes, but I love them. They are so happy you’re getting along with them.”
“Getting along with them?” I shake my head and then laugh. “I feel like I’ve been adopted. I still can’t believe your grandmother gave me a family heirloom!”
A shadow flickers across John’s face, and he shifts slightly. “About that. I had no idea she was going to do that. If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll talk to her—”
“No, John. The locket is perfect. I love it.”
Our eyes lock. Something in his gaze, something raw and unguarded, quickens my pulse. His eyes drop to my lips, and I lean against him. Attraction buzzes in the space between us.
I want to kiss him.
As I tilt my head, the back door opens. Maggie steps out. “There you are. Come in. It’s time for the carol sing-along!”
So much for a kiss. Maybe later.
John stands and offers me his hand. His smile is apologetic. “Shall we?”
I take his hand, and he easily pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go spread some Christmas cheer.”
Back inside, the family gathers around the piano with songbooks in hand. George sits at the keys, his fingers poised to begin as he gives everyone a nod. The room is awash with golden light from the fireplace and candles now lit, and I feel the energy shift—like everyone is connected by the holiday spirit. As we join the group, Maggie hands us each a songbook, her eyes twinkling as she gives me a knowing smile.
“All right, everyone…” George’s voice is full of excitement. “Let’s start with a classic. ‘Jingle Bells’ on three!”
The room erupts into song, laughter mixing with the jangling melody. Not all the voices are in tune, but no one cares. John steps behind me and pulls me toward him, my back against his chest, enveloping me in warmth. Joy seeps into my bones. It’s cozy and comfortable. I want to date him for real and have his family adopt me.
After a few songs, I sing louder. It’s hard not to be caught up in the way John’s entire family sings with abandon. Everything about them, from their laughter to their holiday spirit, is contagious. I can’t stop smiling, even though my cheeks hurt.
As the final notes fade, John lets go and stands next to me. He watches me, his eyes soft and unguarded. Something in his gaze makes me tingle.
Maggie claps her hands. “It’s time for another Christmas tradition.”
Another one? I glance around, and everyone is looking at John and me. Maggie points above our head,heads where a sprig of mistletoe dangles from the ceiling.
I wanted a kiss but not in front of everyone. “We don’t have to—”
“Itistradition.” A smile plays on his lips.
Time seems to slow as he steps closer, and everything else around us fades away. The laughter, the chatter, even the music become a distant hum. John cups my face, and my breath catches. His warm touch quickens my pulse. His family is watching, but this is for just us.
He leans in, his eyes searching mine before our lips meet. The kiss is soft, tentative, as if he’s giving me the chance to pull away. But I don’t want to. I cut the distance between us, my eyes fluttering shut as I feel his warmth, his confidence growing as the kiss deepens. I touch his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my hand.
