Page 103 of Small Town Boy

Her exasperated laugh as she mentions Santa’s second stop is paired with a playful roll of her eyes. Secretly, I know she loved that Mama and Daddy, and even Pops, didn’t listen to her insistence on not getting her anything for Christmas. For the second year in a row. Maybe next year—which will be our first official Christmas as the Kellers—she’ll understand that this is what we do.

Or maybe not.

Either way, I’m over the moon to be able to spend the rest of my life making up for all those holidays she spent alone and surrounding her with the chosen family she deserves.

She’s the Mrs. Claus to my Santa, the Clarice to my Rudolph, and whatever other cheesy holiday pairings you can come up with. Beyond perfect, and more than I could ever deserve.

“All true. But I think he made another one. You should check under the tree.” I waggle my eyebrows knowingly, unable to hide my excitement.

“Noel…”

I shrug. “I don’t know why you are chastising me; it was Santa.”

Bronwyn rolls her eyes again but slides off my lap, walking over to the tree. “There’s nothing under… Oh, wait…”

Right at her eye level, a crooked branch steals her attention. I suck in a deep breath, holding it for a long moment as she stares at it.

C’mon, Honey…

“Noel,” she spins around, holding up the item that was unceremoniously shoved onto a branch. “Why are there keys in our Christmas tree?”

“Santa wanted you to have them.”

I bite my lip, waiting for admonishment for my smart-ass response. Instead, she sasses me right back.

“Does Santa also want to explain what they go to?”

That’s my girl.

“The farmhouse.”

“The farmhouse? I have keys to the farmhouse. Why do I need another set?”

And it’s go time.

I spring to my feet, closing the gap between Bronwyn and me in a single step. She’s the most amazing woman I know, and I still can’t believe she chose me. My hands find her hips, gripping tightly as I pull her close.

“I had originally planned on giving you these for your birthday, but then Nash and…” I stop myself. Not going there. This is about us. Our life together. Our future. I need to refocus. “Do you remember the first night I cooked you dinner?”

“You made turkey noodle stir-fry. So?”

“So….you asked that night who gets the house when either one of us wasn’t a bachelor anymore. I told you there was a plan.”

Bronwyn nods slowly, eyes trained on me as she follows along.

My heart pounds, all the words I rehearsed fading in my mind, like they are running away from a monster. I’m just going to have to wing it and hope that I make sense.

“The plan has always been that whoever took the dive first got the farmhouse. I mean, whoever settled down. That when the time was right, Mama and Daddy would move in here, and whichever twin was left would figure out his own deal. With our wedding next year, Mama and Daddy feel the time is right.”

Bronwyn’s eyes go wide, turning shiny as they fill with tears. For a split second my stomach flips, a worry that they might not be happy tears springing to life. That she hates the idea. It never occurred to me that the farmhouse isn’t where she would want to live. That maybe she wants a place that is ours—only ours.

Shit…

Bronwyn’s beautiful laughter fills the air, squashing all my concerns in an instant.

“Are you serious? Your childhood home is…ours?”

“All ours. To do with as we please.”