Chapter 25
Zoe
“I think Zoe sabotaged our pieces and made them so they wouldn’t fit.”
The whiny voice coming from the dining room belonged to six-foot-four, professional hockey player, Wesley Sanders, and not the seven-year-old he was teamed up with for our gingerbread house building contest. I’d kept my promise and baked fresh gingerbread for Charlie along with what I believed was my stickiest batch of icing yet.
The entire home smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. Add on Michael Bublé crooning Christmas tunes from the television and the warm glow of the tree Wes had helped Charlie decorate, and the Langfield home felt straight out of a holiday movie.
The original plan had been to just build gingerbread houses.
It had taken all of two seconds for someone to propose the idea of turning it into a competition.
Not all that surprising when you threw four hockey players together, though.
Charlie chose her Uncle Wes as her partner, and they had opted to work on their house in the dining room, so Miah and I “couldn’t copy” them.
From the sounds of it, they were struggling.
Our house, on the other hand, already had all four walls solidly standing and the roof secured.
We’d been able to erect the baked building in half the time it usually took me, and most of that was due to the fact that Miah’s large hands were able to easily hold up all of the walls at once. My tiny hands could never.
Confident that our house was stable, Miah stepped back so he could peek through the kitchen doorway at our rivals. “Are you holding it long enough for the icing to set?”
Silence. Then a huff from Miah.
“Be patient.”
From my vantage point, I could just make out the Dad Look he gave them; lips firm and eyebrows raised. Whether it was directed at Charlie or Wes, though, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.
He returned to my side, shaking his head as he let out another heavy sigh.
“It’s like I have two children sometimes.”
I playfully bumped my hip against the side of his thigh. “Oh, please. You know you’re over the moon that he’s here for a couple days.”
He gave a playful grumble in response, but we both knew the truth.
Charlie wasn’t the only one who’d been counting down to Wes’s arrival.
I, however, had been quite nervous. Wes was like a brother to Miah, which meant his opinion of me held a lot of weight to it.
Not that I ever thought Miah would end things if Wes didn’t like me, but things would be a lot easier if the two of us got along.
My worries had all been for nothing, as usual. I’d barely stepped over the threshold before Wes had shoved Miah aside and scooped me up into a bear hug, somehow even bigger than Miah.
“Do you have a preference on gumdrop colors?” Miah asked, pulling the bowl of multicolored gummies closer.
“Well, that depends…” I crossed my arms over my chest as I examined our options. “What kind of vibe are we going for? Multicolor Christmas or keep it classic with red and green?”
Miah picked out a red gumdrop and popped it into his mouth as he debated. “Let’s go with multicolor. It feels more nostalgic. I always had multicolored lights on the tree when I was growing up.”
I smiled. “All the colors it is.”
I’d been given all icing duties, Miah still not confident in his piping skills, so I grabbed a bag and made a line down the top of our roof.
Miah meticulously placed the gumdrops in rainbow order.
From there, we added a path to the door lined with more gumdrops, and I decided to be extra and add icicles hanging from the roof.
“What do you think, Cupcake? Do you trust me with the confectioner’s sugar?” Miah smirked at me, a measuring cup poised above the opening of the bag.
“I would hope that you learned from last time.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I want to see you in one of my old t-shirts again.”
I bit back a laugh and just eyed him.
“You know you can do that without showering the entire kitchen in sugar, right?”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
I pursed my lips. “You did end up kind of looking like Santa,” I admitted.
“But like… a hot Santa?”
My shoulders shrugged up to my ears as I tilted my head back and forth. “Meh.”
Miah’s jaw dropped and before I could even attempt an escape, he’d snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against his chest.
“Zoe Daniels.”
I just laughed. Even more so when he tickled my side, making me squirm. “Okay, okay,” I relented. “You made a hot Santa and you’ll be a silver fox when you’re old.”
His free hand cupped the back of my head as he bent down to give me a solid kiss.
“Thank you.”
His grin was boyish and painfully adorable.
I snuck a glance toward the doorway, pausing long enough to listen for any hint of movement from Charlie or Wes in the direction of the kitchen.
Confident there’d be no interruption, I returned my attention to Miah and leaned up on my toes to give him a proper kiss.
Unlike me, he had no hesitations and wrapped me up in both arms now, holding me gently, but securely.
Moments like these would be limited the next week or so as we attended our respective family events, so we had to steal them wherever we could.
“But seriously”—I pulled back—“please keep the sugar on the gingerbread. We don’t need the entire counter to be snow-covered.”
Miah let out a dramatic sigh, his arms growing slack around me. “Fine, fine.”
“And you say you feel like you’ve got two kids. I think I’m dealing with three.”
Sticking his tongue out at me did not help his case, but it did make the both of us laugh.
Despite his reassurances, I still supervised as he carefully dusted confectioner’s sugar over the house.
It ended up looking like a cozy, candy cabin after a fresh powdering of snow. In other words, it was perfect.
I patted Miah’s bicep as I smiled up at him. “Proud of you.”
He beamed as if I’d just given him a gold star.
After cleaning up, Miah carried our gingerbread house into the dining room for the voting. Wes and Charlie looked to be finishing up the last touches to theirs, placing peppermints around the base.
“Why is there a ghost wearing a Santa hat in the window?” Miah questioned.
Wes stood taller. “We decided to embrace our wonky, tilting walls and make it a haunted house at Christmas time. Ghosts celebrate the holidays, too, you know.”
“I love it.” I smiled at Charlie. “Very creative.”
“We won, then, right?” Wes looked hopefully around the dining room.
I had to hand it to them; they’d made the most out of a dire situation. I could only imagine what Miah’s would have looked like if he’d had to do it on his own or, God forbid, with Wes. There was a reason the boys hadn’t let Charlie and I team up.
“I say it’s a tie,” Charlie decided. “Daddy and Zoe’s is pretty, but Uncle Wes and I thought outside the box.”
While Wes didn’t seem keen on the idea of there not being a definitive winner, none of us were going to say no to Charlie.
Miah wrapped his arm around her small shoulders. “Great idea, Tot. A tie it is.”
“Jay, I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Wes announced.
Miah paused mid-step on his way to the living room and turned slowly. “Why?” he asked, his suspicion clear.
“Figured I’d make struffoli today since I’ve got the best sous chef I could ask for.” Wes playfully nudged me with his elbow and then cupped his hands around his mouth. “No offense, Charmander!”
If she was able to hear him over the Christmas movie she’d picked out, she didn’t bother with a response.
Miah’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of us, clearly hesitant.
Maybe because he’d be leaving me alone with the person who had all the dirt on him.
Or maybe he worried that Wes would end up grilling me.
Not that I would blame him. It would make sense for him to do a little interrogating of the newest person in Miah and Charlie’s lives.
Either way, I was confident that the two of us would be fine.
Miah’s hazel eyes met mine, his brows lifting up questioningly. I walked over and leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“Don’t worry. I’ll sneak you some,” I promised with a conspiratorial wink.
That at least made him smile.
“Charlie and I will be wrapping presents for my parents, if you need us.”
He gave me a small peck before disappearing into the living room. I joined Wes at the kitchen counter, looking over all the ingredients he had laid out.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard of struffoli.”
“It’s a traditional Italian cookie. Just little balls of fried dough soaked in honey,” he explained, a nostalgic look in his eyes as he adjusted the bowl on the counter. “My nonna used to make large batches of it at Christmastime, and when she passed, it became my job.”
My heart warmed; whether it was an excuse to get me alone or not, I was grateful he was allowing me to assist him with such an important tradition.
“I’m honored to be able to help you today.”
He smiled widely, identical dimples appearing on either side of his mouth.
“Jay is obsessed with it. If he’s ever in a grumpy mood, just make a small batch and he’ll get over it like that.” He snapped his fingers.
We both laughed.
“Noted.”
Wes talked me through measuring out the flour, baking soda, and salt while he zested an orange, pausing halfway through to roll up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. I retrieved the whisk I’d bought Miah from the utensil drawer.
“He really really likes you, you know,” Wes said. He gently nudged the zest into a small pile on the cutting board before scooping it into his hand and sprinkling it into the bowl.
I kept my head down as I whisked together the dry ingredients, but with my hair pulled back, there was no hiding the flush to my cheeks.
It only grew when I felt Wes’s eyes on me.
Hearing Miah say such words was one thing.
It was different to hear it from someone on the outside looking in. Someone I knew Miah confided in often.
“I really really like him, too. A lot.” I more than just liked him, but I wasn’t going to tell anyone else that before I told Miah himself. He deserved to be the first to know.
Wes stepped closer to pour melted butter in, and I traded the whisk for a wooden spoon.
“Honestly, Miah and Charlie are the best thing to happen to me in a long time,” I confessed. And that was putting it lightly. “I feel very lucky to be a part of their lives.”
The kitchen was quiet save the muffled sounds of the television in the other room. The dough had become thicker and I had to shift forward to get better leverage.
“You’re in it for the long haul, right?”
Wes seemed to always have this positive energy about him, palpable even through a television screen, but when I looked at him, it was as though that light inside had been dimmed. His eyes were serious and there was a hint of sadness in them. Of loss.
“Yes,” I replied confidently. “I’m in it for the long haul.”
He let the words settle before he finally nodded. “Good. Because I like you, and I’m basically a bonus to their package deal.” He tipped his head toward the living room, that charming grin and consequent dimples returning to his face.
I grinned back at him. “I like you, too.”
The air between us grew light once more. Wes moved to wash his hands at the sink and tapped the side of the bowl.
“It’s time to knead it and then we’ll let it rest for a little.”
My arm muscles were burning, so I was more than willing to stop and let Wes take over. Both of his hands barely fit inside the bowl as he worked the dough. I stepped out of his way to watch, taking all the mental notes.
I opened my mouth to ask if he would be seeing any of his family for the holidays, but then I caught myself, remembering when I’d made Charlie feel awkward suggesting she share the cupcakes with her mom.
I didn’t want to assume that he had family outside of Miah and Charlie.
Surely, he would be seeing them if he did.
“What?”
I looked up at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean, what?”
“You were about to say something. Or ask something.”
“Oh.” I averted my gaze to the bowl. “I was just going to ask about your family. If you were going to see anyone else during the holidays.”
“And why’d you stop yourself?”
“I didn’t want to assume,” I replied honestly.
“I’ve got some family up in the Chicago area still, but my parents moved down to Louisiana recently to escape the cold. There’s not near enough time to see them all in the few days we have off, so I stick with coming here for Christmas every year.”
He rolled the dough into a large ball and then placed a tea towel over the bowl.
“Besides. Christmas is more magical with a kid around.” He rinsed his hands once more and then turned to lean against the counter, his smile now directed toward the living room.
“I wouldn’t miss a Christmas with Charlie for the world.
It’s the one time of year that I don’t mind getting up at the crack of dawn.
Seeing her lit up like that is…” He shook his head.
The love and adoration he had for Charlie was written all over his face. In a lot of ways, their relationship reminded me of mine with my own uncle.
“So when are you going to have kids of your own?”
He took a deep breath, his chest swelling underneath his sweatshirt, and then let it out. “After I retire, I guess? If Jay couldn’t do it, there’s no way I could balance being a single parent and a professional athlete.”
My eyebrows crinkled together, my brain catching on that one term. “You don’t think you’d find a partner?”
This time he laughed, big and hearty.
“I’m not about the partner life. No serious, lifelong relationships for me.” He raised a hand. “Except for with my future children, of course. But nothing romantic.”
My head reared back as if I’d been smacked, his words throwing me for a loop. It just didn’t match up with what I knew about Wes. Yes, he was a young athlete, but from how Miah described him, and what I’d seen today, he was quite the family man.
Suppose my archaic vision of a family included two parental units. That obviously wasn’t always the case, though, and didn’t have to be.
“Well… whenever it happens, I think you’ll make a great dad.”
His features softened, and his dark eyes were warm when they met mine. “Thanks. I’m hoping being the fun uncle transitions well to being a good dad.”
My smile widened.
“It’ll be the best trade of your life.”