Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
A minute later, my office door bursts open. Asher rushes around the desk and sweeps me to my feet.
“I love you,” he says, stroking his hand over my belly, “and I love our precious Christmas gift.”
EPILOGUE
ASHER
Eight Christmases Later
“Ican never get enough of you in that outfit, Santa,” Holly says, skipping to me, bringing the smell of fresh-baked cookies with her. She pulls down my beard enough to kiss me on the lips.
I loop my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. She moans when I sink my hands into her hips. During the lead-up to the wedding, people told us marriage was hard work. It would be an effort to keep the spark alive, they said.
Almost a decade later, I still don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.
“Careful,” she whispers. “We don’t want the kids to think I’m cheating on their daddy with Saint Nick.”
I chuckle, putting her at arm’s length so I can get a look at my wife. She’s wearing a sweater with snowflakes printed on it, hip-hugging white leggings, her hair tied up in a black bow, and red-cheeked from all her baking.
My wife is so beautiful and impressive. Between heading up the most successful three years of marketing the company’s ever seen, being a kick-ass mom to our kids, and directing her first feature-length film, she still finds the time to be irresistible.
“I know that look, Santa,” she murmurs, putting her hand on my chest. “Later …”
I kiss her again, then pull up the beard.
“Let’s go spy on the little ones.”
She grins.
Together, we creep down the hallway. Danny, our eldest, sits cross-legged on the floor with our toddler, Laila, sitting in his lap. Sebastian sits on the couch. All three of them stare at the TV screen, rapt.
They love this home movie.
It shows my woman at the climbing center overcoming her fears.
It shows me the first time I was ever Santa.
It shows Holly holding Danny in her arms when he was born. I sat beside them, gently leaning over my son, stunned by how precious and small he was.
Laila turns, her eyes widening. “Santa!” she yells. “Mommy, Santa’s behind you.”
Holly turns, putting her hand to her chest, feigning shock. “Santa, what are you doing here?”
“Ho, ho, ho,” I say, grinning, not having to fake the Christmas cheer anymore. “I’m here to see what the little ones want!”
“Santa, Santa!” Laila beams, raising her arms to me.
I scoop her up as Danny and Sebastian come running over.
THE END