Chapter 6
JONAS
Paige would make a damn good mom.
That thought hit me square in the chest as I watched her crouched on the other side of her booth, her coat brushing the frosted grass while she showed a little boy one of her hand-painted bells.
The kid was giggling, pudgy fingers curled around the shiny brass, and Paige was matching him smile for smile, her eyes lit like the Christmas lights strung above us.
I was supposed to be helping Wade set up the wreath-making station, but every time I glanced back at Paige, it felt less like work and more like watching the future I never thought I could have.
“What’s with you, man?” Wade asked, eyeing me as I twisted pine branches into a wire frame.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re grinning like a kid who just found a brand-new bike under the tree.”
If only he knew. I hadn’t smiled on Christmas morning since I was old enough to stop believing Santa was coming for kids like me. A few charity toy drives, the occasional foster family that tried to make the day special—but most of my Decembers were more empty than full.
But now…now it was different. With Paige, the future looked like more than survival. It looked like light. Like warmth. Like home.
“Just in a good mood,” I muttered.
“Right.” Wade smirked. “Nothing to do with the pretty bell maker you’ve been shadowing all day?”
I didn’t answer. My gaze slid back to her instead.
Paige was letting the boy shake the bell, her laughter blending with the sound of carols floating from the speakers overhead.
His mom dug for money in her purse, and Paige crouched lower, making silly faces until the kid squealed so loud half the booth turned to look.
My chest tightened.
She’d be the kind of mother who knew how to make scraped knees stop hurting and Christmas mornings sparkle. The kind who created traditions kids remembered long after they grew up. The kind I’d only dreamed about.
And I had no fucking clue how to do my part in a family like that.
“Uh-oh.” Wade’s voice cut in, low and knowing. “That look on your face? That’s a man circling the edge of a panic spiral.”
I forced my eyes back to the wreath frame. “I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t. The more I pictured Paige with kids, the heavier the weight in my chest. What did I know about family?
About fatherhood? My blueprint for childhood was twelve foster homes and a lot of nights lying awake, wishing someone would come back for me.
The military had been the closest thing I’d had to stability—and that wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.
“You look like someone canceled Christmas,” Wade muttered.
Might as well have. My shot at giving Paige everything she deserved? That was a holiday miracle I didn’t trust myself to believe in.
We finished setting up the wreath table, and Wade suggested hot chocolate. I followed him automatically, but my eyes stayed locked on Paige. The way she waved goodbye to that mother and child—like their happiness had been a gift to her instead of the other way around—wrecked me.
And then I remembered yesterday. The way she’d trusted me with her body. Her first time. How she’d looked at me like I was safe, like I was worthy. And now here I was, doubting whether I could ever be enough.
“So,” Wade said as he took his cup from the vendor, “when do we get to meet her officially? Luca’s already planning Christmas dinner.”
The thought of sitting at that table, surrounded by holiday cheer, made my stomach drop. “I don’t know. We’re still figuring things out.”
Wade gave me a look. “You’ve been glued to her hip all day. That’s not figuring things out. That’s full-on attachment.”
“It’s complicated.”
“How? You like her. She likes you. End of story.”
If only.
“She deserves someone who knows how to build that kind of life,” I said quietly.
“You mean picket fences and golden retrievers?” He scoffed. “News flash, Jonas—Paige lives out of her car half the year. She’s not exactly playing house.”
“That’s different.”
“Different how? She’s adventurous. You’re loyal. That sounds like a pretty damn good combination to me.”
I didn’t answer. The silence told him everything.
He studied me, his expression shifting. “What’s really going on?”
I hesitated, then forced it out. “Foster care. Twelve homes. No real family. No blueprint.”
Wade went still, then let out a slow breath. “Shit, man.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.” I shrugged. “But it means I don’t know how to do this. Not the right way. And she deserves someone who does.”
“Jonas, listen to me. You know how to show up. You know how to fight for people. You think that’s not family?”
I wanted to believe him, but fear sat heavy in my chest.
Before I could argue, a familiar laugh carried across the crowd. Paige. I turned automatically. She was surrounded by another family now, three kids tugging on her hands, her face glowing as she bent down to their level.
“She’s good with kids,” Wade said.
“Yeah.” My voice was rough.
“You want any?”
The question hit me like a sucker punch. “I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out before you screw this up,” Wade said flatly. “Because from where I’m standing, she doesn’t look like a woman settling for someone who doesn’t know what he wants.”
I knew exactly what I wanted. But she deserved someone who wouldn’t screw things up.
I was still wrestling with that when Paige appeared, a frown creasing her forehead. “Hey. You disappeared.”
I forced a smile. “Helping Wade.”
Her eyes narrowed. She knew. She’d always know.
“Wade,” she said without looking away from me, “give us a minute?”
He clapped my shoulder on his way out. “Think about what I said.”
When he was gone, she stepped closer, her hand brushing my sleeve. “Jonas, what’s wrong?”
I almost lied. Almost buried it deep. But then she looked up at me with that trust in her eyes—the same trust she’d given me last night—and I cracked wide open.
“I was watching you with a kid this morning,” I admitted.
Her face softened. “The kids were so sweet. One little girl wanted sleigh bells because she’s hoping Santa brings her a pony.”
“You’re good with them.”
“I like children,” she said simply. “Why does that bother you?”
“Because you’d make an amazing mom.” My throat felt tight. “And I don’t know how to be a dad. Or a husband. Or do any of this family stuff.”
Her eyes widened.
“I grew up in foster care,” I said quickly. “Twelve homes. No family. No Christmas mornings worth remembering. I don’t know how to do it right, Paige. And you deserve someone who does.”
For a beat, she just stared. Then—to my shock—she laughed.
“You think you’re going to mess up a family you don’t even have yet?” she asked.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” She rose onto her toes, cupping my face in her hands.
Her touch steadied me, even as she shook her head.
“Jonas, nobody knows what they’re doing.
My parents? My dad lost his parents as a teenager.
My mom’s father walked out when she was ten. They figured it out. Everyone does.”
“Not me.”
“Yes, you.” Her grip tightened. Her voice burned with conviction. “You think I don’t see you? You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life. You just didn’t call it family before. But that’s what it is.”
The lump in my throat grew. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of failing you. Of not being enough.”
Her eyes shone. “Jonas, you are enough. You’re everything. When you touched me yesterday, I felt like I was finally home. And today? Watching you worry about kids we don’t even have yet? That just proves you’d be an incredible father.”
The fear didn’t vanish, but it loosened its chokehold.
“I’m already falling in love with you,” I said. The words tore out of me, raw and unpolished but real.
Her smile was all the answer I needed. “I’m falling for you too.”
“Even though I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“Especially because you don’t.” Her lips brushed mine. “It means we get to figure it out together.”
I wrapped her in my arms, inhaling the scent of pine and cocoa and her. “You really want this life with me?” I asked against her hair.
“You’re not broken, Jonas. You’re seasoned. Like a cast-iron skillet.”
I huffed a laugh. “Did you just compare me to cookware?”
“Only the kind that makes everything better with time.”
I kissed her again, deep and certain. “I want to marry you. Not today, but soon. I want to give you the Christmas mornings I never had.”
Tears glimmered on her cheeks, but her smile was brighter than the festival lights. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
She grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the booth. “Come on, future husband. Let’s practice being a family business.”
Future husband. Damn, I liked the sound of that.
And for the first time in my life, Christmas didn’t feel like a reminder of what I’d lost. It felt like the beginning of everything I’d been waiting for.