Epilogue
“Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have we.” —Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
Three Years Later
Tanner
Our Santa was going to be a big hit this year. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and he looked good in a hat. Better in a Stetson, but still…
“I’m not wearing that beard,” Axel groused, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“You have to, Daddy. Santa has a white beard,” Phoebe chided, holding the missing piece that would literally transform my husband into old St. Nick.
“That’s true. Go on, give it a try,” I urged, stifling a grin at the ensuing grumbles.
He furrowed his brow menacingly. “It’s gonna itch.”
“But it’s only for an hour, and it’s a good cause,” Phoebe reminded him, sounding more mature than most eight-year-olds her age. “You can do this.”
“Sure, but there are a lot of other guys who could do it better.”
I widened my eyes. “Better than you? I think not. Put the beard on, and let us be the judges.”
Axel darted a put-upon glare with zero heat between Phoebe and me, then secured the beard and put the hat on. “I look like a North Pole reject. Are you two happy now?”
Phee and I slapped high fives and snickered.
“Yes, yes, yes!” She danced around her father, extending her left leg in a graceful arabesque and twisting in a pirouette. “Papa, will you fix my tiara, please? One of the bobby pins in my hair feels loose.”
I stood behind her, facing the mirror, and rechecked the integrity of the pin holding Phee’s bun in place. “How’s that?”
She tilted her neck from side to side and fluffed the tulle lining of her tutu. “Good. How do I look?”
I swallowed hard and caught Axel’s eye in the reflection before kissing Phee’s temple. “Gorgeous. Like a beautiful ballerina.”
Axel opened his arms, smiling as she hugged him, mindful of her elaborate costume.
“Break a leg, princess. I love you.” He met my gaze across the annex room of the theater. “So much.”
“Love you too.”
“Go on. Ms. Laramie will be wondering where you are,” I said. “We’ll be in the front row, cheering loudly. Well, I’ll be clapping and your dad will be saying, ‘Ho ho ho.’ ”
Phoebe grinned and danced away, calling out, “Bye, Daddy! Bye, Papa!”
Yeah, I was Papa now.
Even before the wedding, Phoebe had insisted that we couldn’t both be Daddy, and I certainly hadn’t argued.
We were a family…the three of us. And in six short months, there’d be a new addition to the Vogel-Spade clan.
Yep, the past few years had been eventful.
Axel had taken over as the primary vet for Oak Ridge Ranch upon Lou’s retirement two and a half years ago—which, if I remembered correctly, was the weekend after he and Phoebe had moved into my house.
It had seemed silly to live separately, not to mention impractical.
I’d had Lila and Gordy to consider, and the hassle of remembering to bring a change of clothes or realizing half of my wardrobe was in Axe’s closet had gotten old fast.
It wasn’t exactly a romantic decision. In fact, it went something like, “My house is bigger, my shower is roomy enough for two, and Phee can have her own bathroom. Let’s move your stuff tomorrow.”
The marriage proposal a month later, on the other hand, was positively swoon-worthy.
Axel had secretly organized a weekend away in Napa under the guise of visiting a rancher in the area who was interested in selling a few cattle.
There was no rancher. Just a beautiful winery with lush vineyards.
We’d gone horseback riding and at some point, Axe had hopped off his horse, gotten down on one knee, and asked me to marry him.
We’d tied the knot at the ranch three days after Christmas that same year. The man who’d claimed he’d never wanted to be a husband or a father was now both…happily.
Phoebe accepted me from day one. She’d told us after her first Christmas at the ranch that her wish to Santa had come true. She’d wished to stay at the ranch and for us to become a family. Two dads was kind of perfect. A sibling or two would be nice also.
Last spring, we’d looked into surrogacy.
We’d done our research and eventually found the perfect match to carry our child—a twentysomething PhD student from Santa Barbara with a bubbly personality who’d wanted to help a couple start a family.
After six solid weeks of morning sickness, Sara had hit the three month mark two days ago, and we could officially let our family and friends know we had a baby on the way.
Phoebe was thrilled.
“Can I have a sister? Please? It’s okay if it’s a boy, but it would be extra super-duper-duper great if it was a girl,” she’d enthused.
Early indications was that Sara was carrying a boy, but I really didn’t think Phee would mind. She was going to be an amazing big sister.
And Axel…my fierce, rough, tough, bear of a man wasn’t sure what to think of the news. “A boy. I don’t know how to parent a boy. I might not be any good at it. I don’t want to mess this up or—”
“Shh. That’s not possible. We’re in this together.”
He’d grinned. “We are. All the way.”
That was a fact. We supported, commiserated, or cheered each other on through thick and thin. And vowed to do the same for our children.
And if that occasionally meant doing things you’d sworn you’d never in a million years be caught dead doing—like donning a Santa costume for your daughter’s holiday ballet recital—so be it.
I straightened the fur collar on my husband’s coat and smoothed out the faux white beard. “Can I lick your candy cane later, Mr. Claus?”
Axel snort-laughed and grabbed my junk through my jeans. “Watch it, cowboy. If you wind up on my naughty list, you’ll be over my knee.”
“Promise?”
“I guarantee it.” He kissed me, cupping my nape in his signature rough yet tender way. “Tell me something, husband…what the fuck am I supposed to do besides say ho ho ho?”
“Smile.”
“Like this?” His brow knit in wicked scowl.
“No, try…lifting your lip at the corners. Yeah, that’s better,” I cajoled. “Not great, but you’ve got the idea. The good news is…you’re only supposed to be holiday eye candy.”
“Hot Santa?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh, brother.”
I grinned. “C’mon, let’s get out there. Jax is holding my seat, next to Rich and his new boyfriend, and Josh and Angie, and Moody and Hudson, and Vicki, and—”
“And the whole damn town,” he supplied with a theatrical sigh. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
“Can I say something first?”
Axel nipped my bottom lip playfully. “Sure. Unless it has anything to do with this ridiculous beard.”
“Nope. You look wonderful…and kind of magical. I love you more every day, Axe.”
His eyes softened. “I love you too. Let’s go spread some holiday freaking cheer.”
I chuckled. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
“Merry Christmas, cowboy.”
He squeezed my hand and led us through a dark hallway to the side entrance of the regional theater. The cowboy and Santa Claus.
My heart swelled with pride as he strode ahead of me, calling a boisterous, “Ho, ho, ho!”
This was my wish come true and the only thing on my Christmas list every year: a lifetime with this man, building our family, and a future filled with love, hope…and a little magic.
Thank you for reading Tanner and Axel’s story!