Chapter 31 Parker
PARKER
Growing up, Christmas was rarely special with my parents.
In the corner of our living room, my mom would set up the twelve-inch plastic tree she found in a donation box on the side of the road.
Maybe it was considered stealing for her to have taken it from in front of a stranger’s house, but at twelve years old, I’d never felt more excited than when she walked in the door holding it.
The lights on it no longer worked—not that they would have plugged it in anyway—but it helped us feel a little more cheerful during the dreary months of winter.
On my fourteenth Christmas, Beckham noticed our house was dark, as always, when he came by to give me a present—a wooden horse he’d carved from a fallen branch near the pond on their property.
He’d returned the next night with a small generator in the bed of his truck and dozens of strings of lights.
He’d spent hours looping them around scratchy branches, and when he was done, he’d texted my shattered phone to tell me to come outside.
There were many times I’d thought I’d fallen in love with Beckham as a kid.
Like the time he punched a boy at school for making fun of my worn clothes.
Or when he picked me up and jumped into the pond and didn’t let me go, even as I squealed and laughed.
Or all the nights I spent in his bed beside him, the ones where we just stared at each other and breathed the same air, enjoying each other’s presence.
But the night he lit that tree? My heart never shone brighter.
From that year forward, I went over to the Bronsons’ house for Christmas Eve dinner. Sometimes, I’d spend the night and wake up on Christmas morning to find presents with my name on them stuffed under the eight-foot tree.
This year was no different.
We’d shown up to Beckham’s parents’ house at eight a.m. sharp, per Avery’s request. Though there weren’t as many gifts now that we were all grown, it was still magical walking into that old farmhouse and seeing the Christmas spirit on full display.
“Ugh, finally!” Avery called out before shoving up from the kitchen table at breakneck speed and sprinting over to the tree.
Sage’s mouth popped open as she fought a smile from where she stood at the kitchen counter. “Avery McKinley, that is not polite.”
Callan set a hand on Sage’s lower back, placing a kiss on her cheek. “She’s just excited, baby.”
Sage gave him a wide-eyed look that screamed she was well aware.
Avery popped up from where she’d crouched and waved over at me and Beckham, still standing in the entryway. “Hi, Parker. Hi, Beckham.” Then she promptly faced her mom, the sassiest look on her face, before plopping back down to the floor in front of the neatly wrapped presents.
The two of us laughed as Beckham helped me out of my coat and hung it on the rack by the door, then did the same with his. The woodsy scent from the Christmas tree and the fire in the fireplace, mixed with whatever casserole dish Charlotte had in the oven, had my stomach growling.
Beckham’s brows rose as he eyed my belly. “Sounds like someone’s hungry.”
“Well, I am eating for two, and it’s past my typical breakfast time.”
With that knowledge, Beckham set a palm on my belly before leaning in to kiss me. “I’m going to find my mom and see how much longer that food has.”
“I’m sure she’ll be out here soon,” I told him.
He frowned, though his expression was still playful. “My baby mama is starving, and I can’t have that.”
His words had warmth pooling low in my belly, but before I could say anything, his hand slid off my stomach as he disappeared down the hallway to find Charlotte.
Not a second later, Lettie looped an arm through mine and led me toward the living room.
“Did you talk to Beckham about the comments?” Lettie asked, voice low and close to my ear.
“I did.” I glanced down the hallway as we passed it, not wanting Beckham to hear for fear bringing it up would only make him worry and ruin his mood. “He wasn’t exactly happy, if you couldn’t have guessed.”
“Oh, I definitely figured that.” She shuffled me onto the couch, my hips sandwiched between her and Brandy. Lettie scooted as far as she could into the arm of the couch to give me and my stomach space.
Travis was in his recliner, glaring at the fire like he’d battled it all morning.
Oakley and Lennon sat on the ground, the latter’s back to the coffee table and Oakley resting back in his arms. Callan now stood at the edge of the living room having a hushed conversation with Sage, the two of them oblivious to Avery, who was currently digging her fingers into thick wrapping paper, making progress at tearing into a present.
Reed was beside Brandy, hand firm on her thigh, and Bailey was nowhere to be found, presumably outside tending to the animals before breakfast was served.
“I don’t know what else to do,” I muttered, leaning into Lettie’s side. “I blocked the accounts. Put my profile on private. I’m not posting, especially not sharing any personal details. I have no idea who could want information that desperately.”
“Any old flings from the ranches you visited?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t really have time for much of that, and if I did, it was never serious. Besides, ya know…” I gestured to my stomach.
“Have there been any more since the night of the bar?”
“Thankfully, no. But that almost unsettles me more. They clearly know I have ties to Bell Buckle, and now to your family. Ask anyone in this town, and they’ll know where the Bronsons live. That’s not exactly comforting.”
“No one would tell a stranger where our ranch is,” Lettie explained. “You know that.”
I gnawed on my bottom lip, tearing at skin that was dry from the cold. “I know. But all it takes is one slip-up, like the one on my account.”
She set a comforting hand on my own. “Nothing will happen to you, or to us. We’re safe.”
“Internet stalkers… They can get obsessive.”
She squeezed me. “Did Beckham say he was going to do anything?”
“If he has a plan, he didn’t tell me. But there’s not much we can do when we don’t know who the person is.”
“True.” She forced a reassuring smile, but all it did was prove she was just as lost on what to do about this as I was. “Just keep an eye out. Don’t go anywhere alone. And don’t overthink.”
I snorted. “Overthinking is what I do best with my baby months away from being born.”
This time, her grin was a bit more confident. “So focus on that. Don’t let this weirdo ruin one of the best times of your life.”
“The back pain and waddling beg to differ on that.”
“This doesn’t fit me!” Avery yelled out, pulling everyone’s attention to her—and the gold ring with a sparkly diamond that was dangling from her petite finger.
Collective gasps sounded around the living room, and from behind the couch, the biggest inhale of all signaled Charlotte’s entrance. I peeked over the back to find Beckham at her side, a confused look on his face.
When I swiveled back around, Callan was beside Avery, on his knee, facing a surprised Sage. The woman was speechless, eyes round and mouth agape.
“This kind of happened way out of order, but what else is new?” Callan said, and someone chuckled. He slid the ring off Avery’s finger, and once she realized what was happening, she screamed.
“Are you marrying Mama today?” Avery asked, her voice a high-pitched shriek.
Sage looked between the two of them. “Avery knew about this?”
Callan’s mouth twitched with a smile. “I had to ask her permission.”
“You kept a secret?” Sage asked her daughter, incredulous.
Pride showed on the little girl’s face. “I did. Daddy said he’d buy me another horse if I didn’t tell a soul.”
Sage frowned at him, but behind her false look of chastisement was so much love and adoration for Callan.
Callan shrugged. “It was a necessary bribe.”
Lennon cleared his throat like he was reminding his brother what he was there to do, and Callan shot him a quick glare before focusing all his attention back on Sage.
“Will you be my wife, Sage? For a million years and every day past that?”
As if the words had opened the floodgates, tears immediately pooled in her eyes, a few trailing down her cheeks. And she nodded. “Yes. A million times, yes.”
She leaned down, pressing her lips to his, and Callan scooped his two girls into his arms in one massive hug.
The room erupted in claps, cheers, hoots, and hollers as Callan slipped the ring on Sage’s finger and kissed it. And while the family gathered around them to say their congratulations, I tilted my head back to find Beckham with his hands braced on the back of the couch, his gaze focused on me.
I had no doubt we were both thinking of Ellis’s one question that stood out to both of us the most.