Epilogue
Two Months Later
Nausea holds me in its clutches as the car winds higher up the mountain, each curve of the road churning my stomach a little more.
The sun beats down on the dashboard, thickening the air around me in a stifling cocoon.
Sweat beads at the back of my neck, and I lock my eyes on the road, willing the disorienting feeling to pass.
As a child, my family always had to pull off at some point during the hour drive to Julian because I could never make it the whole way without turning green.
It’s great to see that as an adult, things haven’t changed.
“I didn’t realize you get carsick so easily.” Lincoln’s brows knit together as he flicks his gaze at me. “I could have had my parents come to us.”
“No! I’m okay.” I blow out a shaky breath. “You’d think I would have outgrown it by now.”
“Some people don’t.” He reaches for the air vents, repositioning them so they all blow in my direction, then he cracks the windows. “Do you need me to pull over?”
I shake my head, but the sudden motion makes me queasy. “Maybe just some more air.”
He cranks the air conditioner, and I fix my gaze on the road again, hoping this disgusting feeling passes quickly.
“We’re almost there, I promise.” Lacing his fingers through mine, Lincoln rests our hands on my thigh. “Close your eyes and rest for a while, it might help.”
I do, because he’s right—sleep used to be the only thing that would help, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed either.
It seems like only a few seconds when a soft squeeze on my knee rouses me.
“We’re here, baby.”
Yawning, I blink awake and immediately take in the picturesque view of the Stokes family home.
Then I realize I’m not flooded with queasiness anymore—the feeling has turned into something else.
Nerves.
I’m meeting Lincoln's parents.
After two months together, we’ve decided it’s time to meet each other’s parents. Dinner last night with mine went off without a hitch. Today, we’re spending a cozy day in Julian with his.
“I hope they like me,” I murmur, more to myself than to Lincoln as I unbuckle.
“They’re going to love you, Gen.”
He hops out of the car and comes around to open the door for me, and before he can, his mom comes bounding down the porch steps, arms wide. “Oh my goodness, there she is!”
I’m barely standing when she pulls me into a tight hug, squeezing me like she’s met me a thousand times. “Oh, sweetheart, do you have any idea how glad I am to finally meet you? I’ve been waiting way too long for Linc to bring someone home!”
Laughter bubbles within me, and my eyes begin to fill with tears. Mrs. Stokes squeezes me tight again before pulling back to look at me.
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you’d be. Tim! TIM! Come meet Lincoln’s girlfriend. She’s lovely!”
“Mom,” Lincoln chastises, steering her away from me and pulling her into his own hug. Over her shoulder, he mouths sorry, shaking his head. “You didn’t even tell Gen your name.”
“Ah! I’m just so excited. Can you blame me?” Standing up straight, she shakes out her shoulders like she’s shaking off her giddiness, then extends her hand. Schooling her features, she greets me again. “Hi, I’m Tina.”
I take it, laughing. “Hi Tina, it’s so good to finally meet you.”
“Tina, for goodness’ sake, give the woman a second to stretch her legs,” Lincoln's dad, Tim, grumbles from the porch. He’s leaning against the railing with a steaming mug in his hand and a playful grin on his face. “Can I get you lovebirds a cup of coffee?”
“That’d be great, thanks, Dad.” Lincoln laces his fingers through mine and leads me up the porch steps.
Warmth surrounds me as I step inside their home, from the roar of their fireplace to the soft, delicate scent of coffee, pine, and cinnamon.
As Lincoln pulls my sweater from my shoulders, I peek around at the cozy nostalgia of the home Lincoln grew up in.
Settling around the oak kitchen table, Tina buzzes around her kitchen, pulling open cabinets. “Are you guys hungry? How’s brunch sound?”
Lincoln looks over at me, and I nod. “Brunch sounds perfect. How can I help?”
“By sitting there and telling me all about you!” Tina winks, then gets to work pulling out ingredients.
As Tim slides two mugs of coffee in front of us, he asks, “How do you two take your coffee? Lincoln, still black with a splash of cream?”
“Black is fine. Creamer for Gen,” Lincoln answers his dad. Draping an arm around the back of my chair, he kisses my cheek.
Walking back to the refrigerator, Tim pulls out an assortment of creamers, including one that surprises me—peppermint.
Nuzzling my ear, Lincoln mutters, “I may have asked Dad to pick up an extra one before the season ended.”
“Don’t worry,” Tim chimes in. “It’s not expired; these things last forever.”
Laughing, I unscrew the cap. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me, thank you, Tim.”
“Hey!” Lincoln protests. “I had a hand in that too.”
It's a simple gesture that warms my heart—not only did Lincoln think of me, but his parents played a part in it without a second thought.
An hour later, after good food and even better conversation, Tina and Tim insist on cleaning everything themselves and shoo us away. Lincoln leads me to the back porch to a wooden swing overlooking the garden, where we settle in for a moment alone.
“Thank you for bringing me to meet your parents.” I lean my head against his shoulder. “They’re amazing.”
“I told you they’d love you.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “If you couldn’t tell, my mom’s been waiting a long time for me to bring someone special home.”
“You’ve never introduced her to a girlfriend before?”
He shakes his head, the movement bouncing the swing. “Not until last Christmas when I brought Zee home—but that was just a desperate attempt to have my mom stop urging me to settle down.”
“And before that?” I look up at him, surprised. I knew he wanted to wait a while before bringing me to meet his parents, but he never explained why.
“There’s never been anyone special before,” Lincoln says quietly.
His eyes find mine, and behind them, I can see our entire life together, the picture streaming vividly from his thoughts to mine. He lifts our hands, pressing a kiss to the back of mine.
“I love you,” he finally says softly.
I release a breathless laugh, weeks of apprehension melting away because I’ve been worried about falling too fast. He just said the three words aloud that I’ve been whispering in my head on repeat for what feels like forever.
“I love you too, Lincoln,” I whisper back, feeling the truth of it throughout my whole body.
“Good.” He grins brightly, and pulls me onto his lap. “I was hoping you’d say that because Mom already has a stocking with your name embroidered on it.”
“It’s only February.” I giggle as he peppers kisses against my cheek and neck.
“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me it’s never too early to look forward to Christmas?” He wraps his arms tighter around me while whispering I love you over and over.
“Yeah.” I catch his face between my fingers, gripping his cheeks softly. Our breath mingles as I close the distance between us, our lips practically touching. “I guess I am.”
Then I kiss him—the man I love.
The man who loves me.
Last Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas at all, but this year? Well, maybe Santa deserves a night off.
Thank you for reading Not Like Christmas At All!