I look away, but from the burst of excitement in the room, it’s clear there’s a full-on lip lock in progress.
“I guess we didn’t need the pantry after all,” Elle whispers with a soft giggle.
A low whistle comes from Seth's direction, followed by a “Way to go,” from Thomas.
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” Mom says.
Dad just smiles, a knowing look in his eyes.
I glance at Elle, nestled warmly beside me, and press a light kiss to her lips.
Finally, Tina breaks it off with a little sigh. “Merry Christmas to me,” she says, a teasing smile on her face.
Then I catch Nate leaning in, whispering, “Are you still going on that date?”
“What I’ve got planned tonight is a full-blown rom-com, bells and whistles included,” Tina says, not breaking eye contact. “This”—she gestures between the two of them—“this was just a commercial.”
“Ouch,” I murmur. “That’s gotta sting.”
Next to me, Elle is clearly fighting the urge to laugh.
***
The fire’s already crackling when Elle knocks on the door at eight in the morning. The scent of pine and cinnamon lingers in the air.
Beneath our Christmas tree sit six gifts waiting to be unwrapped. One of them is a huge box holding thebuild-your-own dollhousekit Hannah and I will tackletogether. From the roof to the tiniest piece of furniture, it’s a project that’ll take weeks to finish, but it’s one I’m most excited to share with my daughter.
The smallest gift is tucked inside a box within a box. Elle has no idea that all my hopes and dreams for our future are nestled inside that small velvet box.
I open the door and let my gaze sweep over her. She takes my breath away. There’s something about seeing her like this—soft, warm, mine. Her hair is loosely braided over one shoulder. Beneath her wool coat, she’s wearing the pajama set that matches mine and Hannah’s, and those fluffy slippers Mom gave her last night.
“Good morning,” she says, shooting me a wide smile.
“Good morning,” I reply, reaching for her. I wrap my arms around her and breathe in the scent of her hair.
“Wait!” she exclaims, reaching inside her coat pocket. She pulls out a ribbon-tied mistletoe and holds it over our heads.
“Now can I kiss you?” I ask, pulling her close.
She closes her eyes and tilts her head, inviting me to kiss her.
I do. A slow, all-consuming kiss that leaves both of us dazed.
“Want some coffee?” I ask, my voice husky with longing.
Humming to herself, Elle walks into the kitchen and pours coffee into the mugs we bought at the holiday market last weekend. Hers saysLet it Snow, mine saysBah Humbrew.
We’re both gazing at each other when we hear Hannah stampeding down the stairs, clutching her favorite fleeceblanket. She lunges onto the couch, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement.
“Can we open gifts now?” she asks, bouncing once, then trying to play it cool.
I laugh. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We all sit on the plush carpet, close enough to the fireplace to feel its warmth touching our skin.
Elle hands me a box wrapped in festive Christmas paper, the kind with tiny cardinals perched on snowy branches. A wide satin ribbon is tied around it, the bow perfectly centered on top. Right underneath the bow, tightly tied with ribbon is a smooth wooden ruler, the craftsmanship obvious even at a glance. My fingers graze the wood and I immediately notice the words engraved on it,Measure Twice. Love Once.
Something tight pulls in my chest. I lean over and kiss Elle, "I love it," I say, before moving on to the box.
