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All three men were very dedicated to their mistletoe duties, taking turns kissing me underneath it until I was breathless and laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I check the clock on the nightstand and blink in surprise. It’s nearly ten in the morning, much later than I expected. I’m usually up by seven regardless of how late I went to sleep, an ingrained habit from years of early morning shifts and tight schedules. I knew we’d worn each other out last night, but I figured I’d still wake up at my usual time. Apparently my body decided it needed the extra recovery time.
The men start stirring around me, and Gabriel groans dramatically from his position near the edge of the mattress.
“I always try to sleep next to Maeve, and somehow I always end up on the outside edge like I’m about to be ejected from the bed entirely,” he complains, although there’s humor in his voice.
“You’re fine,” Hayden grumbles from behind me, one arm tightening around my waist possessively.
“You can have the prime spot tonight,” I assure him, twisting to press a kiss to his shoulder. The skin is warm and smells like the expensive body wash he uses mixed with something that’s purely him. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”
I give each of them a good morning kiss, savoring the lazy warmth of Christmas morning. Ford’s lips are soft and languid, his tongue darting out to taste mine. Hayden’s kiss is more demanding even in his drowsy state, his hand cupping the back of my neck. Gabriel’s is playful, his mouth quirking up in a smile against mine.
“Damn, we slept late,” Ford notes, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Mom will be storming up here any second. I’m shocked she’s let us sleep in this long.”
“Well, we were occupied for quite a while,” Hayden points out with a satisfied smirk.
Heat floods my cheeks as I remember exactly what kept us busy last night. “Right. Well, I’d hate to throw off Elaine’s Christmas schedule. Let’s get moving.”
We all get dressed quickly, pulling on comfortable clothes—jeans and sweaters, the kind of casual Christmas morning attire that feels relaxed but still presentable for family. Then we head downstairs, but I stop dead when I reach the foyer landing, my hand gripping the banister as I take in the scene below.
Everything has changed.
All the traditional green and red decorations that were here yesterday have vanished, replaced with an elegant winter palette that takes my breath away. Blue lights twinkle like captured starlight from white garlands that drape gracefully along the staircase railings and doorways. A stunning white tree stands in the living room, decorated with blue ribbons, silver ornaments, and what looks like hand-crafted snowflakes. Even the stockings hanging from the mantle have been swapped out for white ones with blue embroidery. The whole house looks like it belongs in a sophisticated winter wonderland, something out of a high-end magazine spread.
“What is all this?” I ask, my voice coming out smaller than intended as I stare with wide eyes at the transformation. I can see every detail clearly now—the way the blue lights cast a warm glow that doesn’t strain my eyes, how the silver ornaments catch and reflect the light without creating harsh contrasts I can’t distinguish.
“After you fell asleep last night,” Ford explains, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close, “we came down here and replaced everything. Took us about three hours, but it was worth it.”
“We wanted you to actually be able to enjoy the decorations,” Hayden adds with none of his typical gruffness. “To see Christmas the way it should be seen.”
“You did all of this? While I was sleeping?” I can barely process the scope of what they’ve accomplished. This isn’t just swapping out a few ornaments. They’ve redecorated the entire first floor of this massive house.
“I helped!” Lydia calls cheerfully, appearing from the dining room with a huge grin and what looks like pine needles still stuck in her hair. “When the guys told me their plan, I jumped at the chance to help. We had to get Mom’s permission first, but she was all in once she understood what we were doing. She felt awful that she hadn’t thought about making Christmas work better for you.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I hug each of them tightly, breathing in their familiar scents and feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of their thoughtfulness. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”
“This is how family should treat each other,” Gabriel says simply, his accent making the words even more meaningful. There’s something profound in the way he says ‘family’—like he’s never had one before but he’s claiming us as his.
“We wanted you to actually see Christmas,” Ford adds, pressing a lingering kiss to my temple. “Not just endure it.”
“Well, it worked.” And it’s true. Even when I thought they were just demanding bosses, they paid attention to details about me that most people never noticed.
We head into the dining room for breakfast, where Elaine has laid out a spread that looks like something from a magazine—fresh fruit, pastries, coffee cake, and what smells like cinnamon French toast. As I eat, I find myself daydreaming about next year. Maybe I’ll be here to make my famous cinnamon rolls from scratch, the ones with the brown butter glaze that take three hours but are worth every minute. Maybe I’ll finally get to share my citrus sweet rolls, the recipe I’ve been perfecting for years, instead of just reheating the undeniably tasty but impersonal catered pastries Elaine keeps stocked in the fridge. The thought of having a place in this family’s traditions makes my chest warm.
Then we migrate to the living room for present exchanges under the beautiful white tree. The room feels different in daylight—magical, but also comfortable. Homey, even with all the elegance.
I give everyone the gifts I picked out during our shopping trip in town—a pair of gloves for Charles, a beautiful silk scarf for Elaine, and some art supplies for Lydia. They all seem genuinely touched that I thought to include them, their faces lighting up as they unwrap the presents.
“You barely know us,” Elaine says as she runs her fingers over the soft silk. “This was really thoughtful.”
I duck my head, embarrassed but also relieved that the gifts went over well. “Hopefully I’ll get to know you all even better next year.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, an assumption about a future I’m not sure I have the right to claim yet. But no one seems bothered by the presumption.
“We have something for you too,” Hayden says quietly, and there’s something in his tone that makes me look at him more closely. He seems almost nervous, which is unusual for him. “But it’s a little different. Would you mind coming with us?”
I hadn’t even noticed that they hadn’t given me anything yet. Honestly, I hadn’t expected much beyond maybe a polite gift that Elaine suggested, something nice but impersonal. The thought that they’d planned something specific makes my stomach flutter with anticipation. But I follow the men as they lead me down the hall into the room they’ve been using as their temporary office, the one with the big mahogany desk and built-in bookshelves.
