I glance around at my friends—my brothers. They’re ready to fight a battle that isn’t theirs, and gratitude builds inside of me.
They’re here.
We’re here.
And somehow, that’s enough.
I just have to show Erin that, too.
I openthe door to a grinning Rudy wearing the ugliest fucking sweater I think I’ve ever seen. It’s an assault of clashing reds and greens. Of course he’s proud of it. I shake my head, stepping aside as he enters.
“Wow, just wow,” I mutter, but his grin only widens.
Laughter echoes from the living room as Rudy greets everyone, complimenting the other monstrous sweaters.
“Rudy!” Roman yells, barreling straight for him. Rudy catches him with ease.
“Hello, my little sous chef. Ready to make the best dang Ho Ho Hockeymas meal yet?”
“Yep, but can we FaceTime Uncle Brodie and Bella when we make the potatoes? Bella wanted to do it with me.”
“I thought they decided against being in California for the holidays?” Rudy asks, looking between Roman and me. Roman shrugs, barely disappointed.
“Bella said her meanie client was having a bitch feast,” Roman says, like it’s not that big of a deal.
I chuckle at his mispronunciation of the phrase just as Oliver snags a gingerbread cookie from the island and yells, “Ten dollars!”
“We’ll call them,” Rudy promises, fishing into his wallet on behalf of Bella. “Santa will make sure her meanie client gets a big lump of coal.”
Roman cackles in delight.
The front door opens again and Erin steps in, shrugging off her coat. I can’t help but notice her light blue jumper covered in ridiculous gingerbread men—courtesy of her brother. Her hair swings down her back, black jeans hugging every curve.
Gorgeous.
I go to help with the bags, but she places them on the floor and melts into my arms. We pull apart and stand there a moment, taking each other in.
“I’m sorry Bella couldn’t make it home. We could fly out in a couple days if you want,” I whisper, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
She shakes her head. “I just want to be with you. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, baby. More than okay.”
I kiss her forehead and take her hand, leading her to the living room. She hugs the guys, lingering with Hayes in a long, protective Papa Bear hug. One each of us has had over the years. I’m glad Erin gets them now, too.
She settles into my lap, cradled against me, as the card game unfolds. Fifteen minutes later, Oliver throws his cards down with a dramatic flair. Rudy and Roman butcher a country version of “Santa Baby” in the kitchen, Roman’s accent so bad it’s hysterical. Erin snorts, and I let that freeing sound wash over me.
Another ten minutes go by before Roman finally summons us to the table. The spread of food is magnificent. The aroma of roasted meat and spices mingles with the faint scent of pine from the little tree that Roman decorated in the corner.
It’s perfect.
We take our seats at the long rectangular table, and everyone digs in.
“Okay, we know the rules but Goose doesn’t. Roman, you wanna do the honors?” Rudy asks.
“During dinner, we say one thing that we’re glad happened to us,” Roman explains, finishing off his cheesy mash with a big grin. “I’m glad that my mom and Dex are getting married because he makes her really happy.”
Brax ruffles his son’s hair, pride present in his eyes.
