Epilogue
Lauren
I wake up with my face nudged into the crook of Caleb’s neck, his hot breath feathering over the top of my head and his arm heavy on my hip.
Small cat paws dig into my calves as, presumably, Jenna climbs up my legs.
A soft ‘meow’ from the ground next to my bed makes me aware that both cats are here, ready to demand their breakfast. I let out a deep sigh, letting myself revel in the blanket's warmth and Caleb’s hold, before I can get myself to open my eyes.
Carefully, I lift his arm and wiggle out of his hold.
He’s still sleeping peacefully. I get up quietly and close the window, turning on the heater before I leave the room so he won’t wake up in the complete cold. Taytay and Jenna walk ahead to the hallway, and I softly close the door behind us.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper and scoop the two of them up, kissing their little heads. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
By the time the coffee’s done, Caleb trudges down the stairs, barefoot and his eyes still hooded with sleep. I knew he wouldn’t sleep much longer. His inner clock wakes him up at the exact same time every day, only twenty minutes after Jenna and Taytay usually come to wake me.
It never stops. Even on days he’s not opening his café. Today, for example.
“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse as he rubs his eyes, not even trying to hide his yawn.
“Good morning,” I say cheerfully and hold up his mug, signaling that his coffee is in there. “Merry Christmas.”
That elicits the smallest smile from him. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
The only response I can offer is a silly grin, my stomach tingling with giddiness. He circles around the kitchen counter, closing in on me, and takes my mug out of my hand. Setting both mugs aside, he pushes me against the counter.
I run my hands over his shirt, lacing my fingers at the back of his neck and running my thumbs through his hair.
“Did you sleep well?” I whisper, and he nods without another word, pressing his lips against mine, the taste of his black coffee mixing with my gingerbread syrup latte.
“I got you something,” he whispers against my lips. When my eyes flutter open, I find him watching me with an unsure crease between his eyebrows, not meeting my gaze.
“Thought we said no presents?” I tease him and arch my eyebrow, but the grin tugging at my lips betrays my mock pout.
“It’s only something small,” he mumbles and takes a step back. I miss his warmth immediately, but he lifts a finger, motioning for me to wait, then disappears into the hallway.
“Here.” He walks back into the kitchen, holding a little box that snugly fits in his palm.
“You weren’t kidding.” I grin and make grabby hands for it.
“Don’t shake it,” he warns before he hands it over, and I hold it extra carefully.
He wrapped it in beautiful deep-red gift paper and bound it with a perfect golden bow. Slowly, I pull at the strings until the knot opens and gently pick the paper apart.
“It’s not much, and I’m not sure you’re going to like it and-” Caleb rambles.
“Shush,” I say playfully and put my fingers over his mouth. “It’s from you. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“I hope so.” He can’t help but grumble against my palm, his eyes nervously darting around the room as I carefully open the box.
“Oh my God, Caleb!” I stare at it in awe. It’s an ornament! Carefully, I find the ribbon and lift it out of the box. “Oh, my Santa, this is stunning.”
A heart-shaped gingerbread ornament, complete with a border of icing, sprinkles and plastic candy.
“I saw it at the Christmas market and thought of you,” he admits shyly.
Carefully, I set it right back down in the box before I jump off the counter to throw myself at Caleb, getting on my tiptoes for a kiss.
“It’s perfect, Caleb. I love it.” His hands lock at the small of my back as he hugs me tightly.
“Good. I’m glad.”
I take his hand and pull him with me, finding the perfect spot for it on the tree.
Slightly above my head, high enough that the cats won’t reach it and I can see it easily.
I lean my back against his chest, grinning as his arms slide around my middle.
Gosh, I could look at it for the rest of the day.
“So, what if I told you I also got you something?” I tease, glancing at him over my shoulder. He cocks an eyebrow.
“You hypocrite.”
“Hey, you’re the first one who broke our agreement.” I giggle and step out of his arms, rushing to my library room. I grab both presents, and as I walk back into the living room, his eyes widen.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him, then hand him the bigger one first. “This one is as much a present for me as it is for you.”
There’s some healthy skepticism in his expression; a crease forms between his eyebrows and his grin is only slightly forced.
“Open it.”
It’s not even remotely wrapped as perfectly as his. I don’t have the patience for perfect measurements and using as little tape as possible.
Instead of opening it carefully, he tears the paper open. Once he takes the sweatshirt out of it, he freezes — then bursts into barking laughter.
“Fuck, I should’ve known.”
It’s a Christmas sweater, a deep Christmasy red with white accents and a Christmas tree pattern along the chest.
“I have a similar one,” I explain, and run back to the library to get it. “Look!” I unfold it and hold it up in front of me. They’re exactly the same shade of red, only mine has a gingerbread pattern instead of Christmas trees. “They kind of match.”
“God, you’re ridiculous.” He leans in for another kiss. “In the best way.”
He picks up the second present. It’s around the same size, and he turns it in his hands as if he’s trying to figure out the contents by staring at the box intently. He pulls the paper off to reveal a box, and when he opens it, his eyes widen.
“A new cap?” he asks amusedly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he takes it out and turns it in his hands.
“Yep,” I grin. I’m glad he loves it. “And because I’m corny, I had both of our initials stitched into the inside.”
I take it from his hands to show him. It’s subtle, small stitching right above the visor. You can’t see it when he’s wearing the cap, but that was never the point.
“I noticed your old one is pretty much dissolving. Of course, you don’t have to wear it, but I thought maybe you might want a backup. And- “ It’s my turn to ramble, but he leans in and swallows the rest of my sentence with a kiss.
“I love it,” he mumbles with a nod.
“Good,” I grin. “Now, let’s have our coffee in peace before we go over to Nic’s for another round of overeating. And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wear that sweatshirt.”
It’s surprisingly exhausting to wade through snow that reaches halfway up my calves, especially while trying to hold a tray with Speculoos dessert level. By the time we make it to Nic’s, I’m sweating and exhausted.
“On a scale from one to ten,” I huff out, half laughing, “how high do you think the chances are we can convince Henry to get nine more huskies, so we can have them pull us on sleighs?”
“I’d say a three,” Caleb says, sounding exhausted. “He’s got his hands full with Jensen already.”
“Boo,” I reply with a pout, lifting my hand to ring the bell.
“Merry Christmas!” Nic says cheerily, beaming as she opens the door.
“Merry Christmas,” I reply just as enthusiastically and pull her into a quick hug. Of course, Henry is already here. I hear him rustling as he sets the table in Nic’s living room. My eyes dart behind her and widen. “And oh my god, who is this cutie?”
A new dog pops his head around the corner to the living room. It’s a black Labrador, its nose sprinkled with specks of gray fur.
“Seriously?” Caleb chuckles. “Let me guess, is this your ghost cat’s doing again?”
“No, this one is on Brooke,” Henry calls from the living room. “His name is Shadow.” I lean down to let the dog sniff my hands and scratch his ears once he deems me acceptable company. Then he trudges off to Caleb.
“Brooke is the girl who’s running the shelter one town over,” Caleb explains and lets the dog sniff him too.
“This old man was surrendered three days ago,” Henry explains as he enters the hallway.
“His previous owner had to move into an assisted living facility on the other side of the country to be closer to his children. They couldn’t take his dog along and had to surrender him.
” His eyes soften. “Call me sappy, but I couldn’t bear to leave him in the shelter over Christmas. ”
“Hi, Shadow,” I say sweetly and crouch down. The dog comes closer with slow, careful steps. As soon as I start petting him, he wags his tail, nudging his head against my hands.
“Aw, aren’t you cute?” I coo and run my hand over his back. Caleb and Henry walk into the living room, and Shadow immediately decides that’s more interesting, so I get up.
“Come on, Lauren, let’s tackle the potatoes.” Nic pulls me with her to the kitchen.
“What? Do you need me to hold your hand while you mash them?” I ask, amused. Nic shakes her head.
“That’s okay. But I need you to keep Pumpkin away from them.”
She nods towards the kitchen counter. Somehow, her orange cat has managed to get onto it.
“Has she learned to jump that high?” I ask and scoop her up. “Hello, you cutie.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Nic shakes her head and pulls a potato masher from one of her drawers. “Either she’s learned how to fly, a damned good jumper, or she’s an incredible climber.” She shrugs, then begins to mash up the vegetables. “Either way, a little adorable menace.”
“Yes, you are,” I coo, and press a kiss to her little head. “So, Shadow,” I continue, narrowing my eyes at her. “Poor little thing. Are you keeping him?”
Nic shakes her head. “I’d adopt him in a heartbeat if I could, but I’m already swamped with all the mayhem the cats cause. And I’m sure Chaos has more in store. It has only been a few months, after all.”
The doorbell rings, and Henry shouts, “Got it!”
By the time Kieran enters the kitchen, the beef Wellington is done, as are the mashed potatoes and all the other side dishes.
“Before you say anything,” I say when I see his eyes darting from Nic’s to my sweatshirts, a pained expression washing over his face. “I got you this.” I throw a green sweatshirt at him.
“Does that mean you and Caleb are adopting me?” he asks, trying to give his voice an amused tone, but it doesn’t quite mask the level of appreciation. Immediately, he takes off his sweatshirt to pull the new one on, modeling it for us until Nic’s last timer goes off.
We carry all the food over together, and when I take a seat beside Caleb, I can’t help but remember Thanksgiving. It was not even a month ago, but so much has changed since then. Yet a lot has remained the same.
I’m still spending time with the people I call my family. I’ve found a home where I actually feel welcome and people who accept me for who I am, instead of chasing a weird fantasy image of me they have in their heads.
Under the table, I lean my foot against Caleb’s calf.
He glances at me, reaching over to give my thigh a reassuring squeeze.
Jensen is sleeping on the couch, Nic’s cats climbing all over him, while Dick is chasing snowflakes outside, tied to Nic’s porch with a long leash to prevent him from running off and so we can see when he wants to come back inside.
And Shadow? Well, Shadow is resting next to Caleb, chin on his thigh, while Caleb’s other hand absentmindedly rests on his little head.
“Apparently, Shadow picked you as his new human,” Kieran jokes.
Nic stretches her neck to see what he means. “Aww, he looks so happy.”
“I’m not adopting a dog,” Caleb says gruffly and shakes his head. I bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from giggling. There it was. The slightest break in his voice.
“Are you sure about that?” I tease him and squeeze his hand.
“No,” he whispers, but it’s still loud enough for everyone to hear, and break into a grin.
Later, when we’re all sprawled out on Nic’s couch and on the ground of her living room, barely daring to move because we’re so full and sipping on our mulled wine, Shadow is sleeping, his head in Caleb’s lap.
“You should adopt him,” I whisper. The others are watching Die Hard very intently.
“How would that work logistically?” he asks, curious, but not completely opposed.
I reach over him, running my hand over the dog’s head.
“He’s obviously good with small cats,” I whisper, considering Pumpkin is curled up right on top of him.
“He can hang out at your café during the day. I’m sure I or Kieran can take him along on a short walk in the main square park if you’re busy. ”
“I can totally do that,” Kieran throws in, lifting his arm with a groan to signal his volunteering.
“I’m adopting him, aren’t I?” Caleb lets out a deep sigh, but it’s not a dejected one. Dare I say it, it even sounds happy. I lift my chin, and he leans in for the kiss I’m asking for.
“Merry Christmas,” I mumble against his lips.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers back.
Thank you so much for reading A Love Like Christmas Time!