CHAPTER 12 #2
"Clark," he breathed.
It was a professional camera. Not top-of-the-line, but good. Really good. The kind that could build a business with.
"I know you've been using your phone," I said. "And you're talented enough that it doesn't matter. But you mentioned wanting to do this seriously, and I thought—" I pulled out the note I'd tucked in the box. "I thought you should have the right tools."
He read the note aloud, his voice shaking: "For building something that's yours here. I believe in you. -C"
"You really think I can do this?" he asked quietly. "Build a business here?"
"I know you can." I cupped his face, made sure he was looking at me. "You're talented, Mav. And people respond to you. I've watched them this week—they trust you, like you. You could build something real here."
"I want to." He clutched the camera like it was precious. "I want to stay and build something and be with you and—" He cut himself off, emotional.
"And you will. We'll figure it out together."
He set the camera down carefully and then climbed fully into my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. We stayed like that for a long moment, just holding each other.
"Best Christmas Eve ever," he mumbled against my shoulder.
"We haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
"What's the best part?"
"You'll see."
***
I woke to Mav's face pressed into my chest, still deeply asleep. His hair was a mess, and he was drooling slightly on my shirt, and I'd never seen anything more perfect.
Christmas morning.
I ran my hand down his back, and he made a soft grumbling sound.
"Wake up, baby. It's Christmas."
"Too early," he mumbled.
"It's almost nine."
"Exactly. Too early." But he was smiling, eyes still closed.
"I did stockings."
His eyes flew open. "What?"
"Stockings. Come on." I climbed out of bed and pulled on sweatpants. "Get dressed."
"You made me a stocking?" He was scrambling out of bed now, pulling on clothes. "Like, a real Christmas stocking?"
"You sound like you're five."
"I feel like I'm five. Nobody's ever made me a stocking before."
That stopped me. "Never?"
"My parents weren't really... we didn't do stockings or much of this." He gestured vaguely. "Christmas was dinner and some presents and that was it."
Something ached in my chest. "Well. Now you have a stocking."
I'd hung them on the mantle last night while he was getting ready for bed. Two stockings—one that said CLARK in embroidered letters (Mitch had made it years ago), and one that said MAVERICK in slightly wonky letters because I'd done my best but hand-sewing wasn't my strongest skill.
Mav stood in front of them, staring.
"Clark," he whispered.
"I know it's not perfect—"
"It's perfect." He turned to me, eyes bright with tears. "You made me a stocking. You made me a Christmas stocking with my name on it."
"You live here," I said simply. "That means you get a stocking."
He hugged me so hard I almost lost my balance, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding tight.
"Come on," I finally said. "Let's see what Santa brought."
He laughed wetly and wiped his eyes, then grabbed his stocking off the mantle. We settled on the couch, Bear immediately inserting himself between us.
The stockings had small things—chocolate, nice socks, a new collar for Bear (Mav's idea), and little practical gifts. Mav pulled each item out with genuine delight, like I'd given him treasure instead of chapstick and packs of gum.
"This is the best Christmas ever," he announced, shoving a chocolate in his mouth.
"We haven't even had breakfast yet."
"Don't care. Best Christmas."
***
I made my traditional Christmas morning breakfast—pancakes shaped like Christmas trees, bacon, eggs, and coffee. Mav sat at the kitchen counter watching me work, occasionally stealing bacon and getting his hand swatted for it.
"You're very domestic for a grumpy tree farmer," he observed.
"I'm not grumpy."
"You absolutely are. Or were." He grinned. "You're less grumpy now. I'm a good influence."
"You're a terrible influence. You ate all the chocolate from your stocking before breakfast."
"And I regret nothing."
I shook my head, smiling despite myself, and slid a plate of Christmas tree pancakes in front of him.
"You're such a Daddy," he said.
"Good. That's what you need."
The words came out before I could think about them, but they felt right. He needed someone to feed him and take care of him and make him ridiculous pancakes on Christmas morning. And I needed someone to take care of.
"Yeah," he said softly, looking at me with those warm hazel eyes. "It is."
After breakfast, we settled on the couch with our coffee. The tree lights were on, the fire was crackling, and Bear was sprawled across both our laps like a furry blanket.
"So," Mav said. "What do you do on Christmas Day? Just... relax?"
"Usually. Sometimes I'd go to a neighbor's house for dinner, but mostly I just..." I shrugged. "Existed. Waited for the day to be over."
"That sounds lonely."
"It was." I set my coffee down, wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "But this year is different."
"Yeah." He snuggled closer. "This year you're stuck with me."
"Stuck with you," I repeated. "Is that what this is?"
"Yep. No take-backs. You kissed me in front of the whole town, which means you're legally obligated to keep me forever."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"It's definitely how it works. I checked the Winterbrook town charter. Very binding."
I laughed, pulling him closer. "Then I guess I'm stuck with you."
"Damn right you are."
We sat there in comfortable silence, watching the fire. Bear's snoring provided a steady rhythm, and Mav's fingers traced absent patterns on my arm.
"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly.
"Always."
"What was your favorite Christmas? Before all this. Before Mitch died."
I thought about it. There were so many—early ones with Mitch, Christmases as a kid when my grandfather was still alive. "The year we got engaged. Mitch proposed on Christmas morning. Completely surprised me."
Mav smiled. "That sounds perfect."
"It was. We were so young. Thought we had forever." I ran my hand through his hair. "But we had twenty good years. That's more than some people get."
"Do you think he'd be okay with this? With us?"
The question caught me off guard. "Why do you ask?"
"Because his ornaments are on the tree. His stocking is still on the mantle next to mine. And I just... I don't want to be erasing him or—"
"Hey." I turned him to face me. "You're not erasing anything. Mitch would have liked you. He would've thought you were good for me."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He always said I needed someone who could make me laugh. Someone who didn't let me get too far in my own head." I smiled. "He'd approve."
Mav was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad he had you. And I'm glad you had him. Because that love—that's what made you able to do this again. To let me in."
"That's very wise for someone who ate chocolate before breakfast."
"Hey, I can be deep and have terrible eating habits at the same time." He snuggled back against me. "This is my favorite Christmas ever, you know."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Because it's ours."
I pressed a kiss to his hair. "Ours," I agreed.
***
The rest of the afternoon passed easy and quiet. Mav played with his new camera, taking pictures of everything—the tree, the snow outside, Bear, me when I wasn't paying attention. I caught him up and threatened to confiscate the camera.
"You're very photogenic when you're grumpy," he informed me.
"I'm not grumpy."
"See? Adorable."
I chased him around the house until he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, then pinned him to the couch and kissed him until he forgot what we'd been arguing about.
Evening came soft and golden. We made sandwiches for dinner—neither of us wanted anything fancy—and ate them while watching a Christmas movie that Mav swore was a classic and I'd never heard of.
"This is nice," he said, leaning against me. "Just... this. Being here with you. Not doing anything special."
"This is special."
"You know what I mean. It's just... easy. Being with you is easy."
"It should be," I said. "When it's right, it's easy."
"Is that what this is? Right?"
I looked down at him—messy hair, bright eyes, completely relaxed in my arms. "Yeah, baby. This is right."