Chapter 31
dax
“I didn’t cheat.” My arms cross over my chest, a flood of anger washing through me.
“You didn’t make the sweater,” Beck claims. “Rules state it’s homemade or store-bought.”
I glance at my father, who wrote the “ugly sweater contest” rules years ago. He shrugs. “Hell if I can remember what the rules say. Or even if they’re written somewhere.”
“As the official judge, what he says goes. And he says I won.”
The only person giving me a hard time is Beck. Because he wanted to win three years in a row, the bastard. It’s purely for fun, but since my sweater won, I want to claim the victory, damn it. I haven’t been in the winner’s circle for a long time.
“But you didn’t make it!” he protests.
“Beckett, let’s not make this a big deal,” Mom says calmly, motioning her head to Atlas and Jace. “Let your brother have the win.”
For a minute, I don’t think he’s going to give in.
He’s pissed, which is so stupid. Sure, his is ugly and homemade by him, but mine’s uglier.
Clementine created the ugliest and winningest sweater ever, bringing to life the creation she sketched out.
It’s even uglier in real life, with 3-D objects hanging off it.
“Fine. Dax wins,” he intones in a toddler voice. “But for next year, if it’s not homemade by the person wearing it, it doesn’t count. I’m writing it down so we all remember.” He stomps off, and Willa follows him.
My brother-in-law, Lenny, steps up to Clementine, already having shed his sweater. “This is amazing. If we can get Beck to change his mind about rewriting the rules, I’d hire you to make mine next year.”
“She’s not for hire.”
I don’t care what Beck thinks. I’ll figure out a way for her to help me next year, even if I have to do most of the work myself to keep within the rules. Fat chance Beck will forget about wanting the rule change or change his mind. Not when he feels he “deserves” the win.
Clementine takes his compliment in stride. “Thank you, Lenny. It was fun, and I laughed every time I worked on it, adding more details to make it uglier. At one point, I thought maybe it was too much, but from the ones I’ve seen today, it wasn’t.”
“It was perfect, seeing as it swept all the ladies’ votes.” I bend down so my mouth is level with her ear. “Voted for your creation, did ya?”
“It was the best,” she whisper-hisses, extracting a chuckle from deep within me. “Also, when’s dinner?”
“An hour or so I’d guess.”
“K.” She glances around the room, her gaze lingering on Willa as she enters, a calmer Beck trailing behind her.
“Willa,” Clementine calls for her attention, making some weird motion with her hands when Willa looks at her.
Weird. Must be a twin thing. I don’t pay it much focus until Clementine rises to her tiptoes.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes.” It takes a minute to realize what she’s talking about until she leaves the room.
Fifteen minutes isn’t long enough, but it’ll have to do.
Clementine slips back into her red and green adorable Christmas sweater and leggings, saying, “Is it wrong I’m not concerned with what your family might think of us?” Her face is flushed from the orgasm, her hair needing a serious fix.
“Nope.” I pull my jeans back up, changing back into my flannel shirt.
“Good, ‘cause I’m not sure I could have made it much longer. You make me feral for orgasms, Mr. Nicholas.”
Her words do nothing to contain the arousal swimming through me. Yes, I got a release, but it wasn’t enough. Not knowing when the next one is going to come sucks balls, but I can’t put that on her. She’s already stressed enough as it is about not getting enough time together.
“All you have to do is ask.”
A heavy sigh tumbles from her mouth, the reality of our circumstances weighty. “I don’t see this getting any better soon.”
I quirk a brow. “You don’t think the sex will get better? Then I’m not doing my job right.”
She stands in front of me, her arm reaching out to smack my chest. “Not the sex itself. The time alone. I hate not knowing when the next time we’ll have a minute to ourselves. And I know it’s because of me—”
I put a finger over her mouth, anticipating what she’s going to say. “Nope, don’t do that. It’s not anyone’s fault but the way life has played out. We could agonize over it, or we could accept this is the season we’re in and be grateful for the time we get.”
Clementine’s eyes widen to saucers. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? I didn’t catch all the positivity leaking from your mouth.” She chuckles, and I drag her to me, needing to have my hands on her.
I don’t bother rewinding what I said because I’ll never remember it all. Instead, I say, “I’m grateful you came into my life, Clementine. More thankful for every piece of yourself you share with me. Thank you for giving me this chance to step up, to prove myself as a man deserving of you.”
“I’m glad we met, too, Dax. Thank you for being the man you are, the friend I needed when I didn’t even realize it, the guy who wants to take care of me and my boys.
I’m not sure I can put into words what you mean to me, but I could art it.
It’ll be abstract, so I suppose the meaning will be up for discussion. ”
“We should get back.” The words are exactly the opposite of what I want to do, but, like always, our time isn’t our own and is limited.
“We should.” She makes no move to budge from the comfort of my arms, so I have to be the bad guy. I motion her upstairs first while I take a few extra minutes to compose myself.
We find everyone in the living room, not bothered by our disappearance. Beck, who seems to be in a better mood—hell, maybe Willa gave him a blow job—has Isla in his arms on the couch, with Atlas and Jace next to him, giggling at our niece, looking adorable wearing the elf hats Clementine made them.
They need a sister.
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. If I consider the connotation, I should be freaking out. That’s what the old Dax would do.
Today, however, a sense of excitement courses through me at the possibility of it. The possibility that it would be my and Clementine’s baby. The possibility of us being a family.
And instead of being scared and running the other way, I’m wondering how soon I can make it a reality.
“You found her.” Mom’s words shake me from my thoughts. A wistful expression encompasses her features. December twenty-third is her favorite day of the year, when we’re all here to celebrate Christmas and what it means to be a family, one that keeps adding members each year.
“Found who?”
“The woman I’ve been waiting for.”
She’s not making any kind of sense. “I’ve had a few too many eggnogs. Can you elaborate?”
Mom doesn’t take the bait. “You’ll figure it out soon enough, my boy.” She pats my arm before she walks away, mumbling something about “the one” under her breath.
My vision snags on Clementine, and the pieces fall into place.
Holy shit!
Echoes of words Mom recited over the years bombard my ears. Something about the woman who’s going to bring me to my knees, change my ways without realizing it, and her “I can’t wait to meet her.”
The realization has me falling back onto the couch, my heart rate pumping.
How the hell did Mom know? How could she have predicted this would happen?
But damn if it’s not true.
From the first moment I met Clementine, she rocked my world. I couldn’t understand why something inside me shifted that day, how other women faded into the background even if I wasn’t around her.
I rub the spot where her name is. Since she branded me, it’s been an odd comfort. I hate how it’s disappearing. Guess the next time we’re alone, I’ll her do it again.
“You okay? You seem a little lost in the shuffle.”
I peer up to find Clementine nibbling the skin of her thumb. I tamp down these emotions trying to claw their way out of me. Now isn’t the time. “Yeah, fine. Anyone question where you went?”
She smirks, a slight tinge of pink tinting her cheeks. “Nope, we’re in the clear.”
“Great. It would have been worth it if anyone had.”
“Agreed. And the fact we’re sneaking around is a thrill in itself.”
Willa sits on the other side of Clementine. “What are we whispering about over here?” For a second, I think she’ll give up our spot. In case anyone asked where we were, Willa knew to cover us. I’ll thank her later.
“How adorable my boys are with Isla,” Clementine lies, stealing the idea from my head.
Willa sighs. “They really are. I can’t wait to see them with mine.”
Her comment has my head turning. “Are you—”
“Oh, no,” Willa clarifies, her expression souring. “I’m not. Just one day, you know? It’s going to happen. Sooner rather than later, hopefully.”
“It definitely will,” Clementine appeases. “If you lose faith, I’ll keep it for you, kid.”
“Thanks, big sister.” Willa glances my way. “Are kids in your future, or are you content being Uncle Dax?”
Clementine stills beside me. I’m glad we’ve already had this discussion, so I know I can’t mess it up.
“Jury’s still undecided for me. My nieces rock, so maybe put in an order for a nephew, would ya?”
Willa laughs, sounding so much like Clementine, it’s a little eerie. “You’ll have to talk to Beckett about that one. Seems the guy’s in control of that.”
“Perhaps that’s a conversation for another day between Beck and me. Not going to take the chance he’ll somehow blame me for trying to convince you to have a boy or something.”
“Valid. Let me know when he apologizes. Dumb man getting so worked up over some arbitrary rules about something that’s supposed to be fun. And yours was the clear winner.”
“Thank you. Your sister is uber-talented.”
“Something she accepts about herself. Don’t stop telling her that, but maybe work on some areas she forgets how awesome she is, too, k?”
I don’t even have to lie when I meet her gaze and declare, “Absolutely."
The evening’s winding down. As much as I don’t want Clementine or the boys to leave, Jace is already conked out in a spare bed upstairs.
Lenny, Heidi, and Isla left a little while ago, Shania and Autumn not far behind. Mom and Dad turned in shortly after, making sure Beck and I knew we were on cleanup duty.
“I should get my kids home to bed,” Clementine states for the fourth or fifth time. I’ve lost count.
“Give me ten minutes to clean up, and I’ll carry Jace out to the car for you,” Beck offers.
It shouldn’t make me jealous. He’s their uncle, and for them, I’m glad he’s a part of their lives. But I want to be the one to do those things for Jace and Clementine.
Clementine holds up a mug. “No rush. Gotta finish this spiked coffee,” giving me the opening I need.
“Want me to drive you home?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she returns, making my heart sing. Take that, Beckett.
“Great,” I say as nonchalantly as I can. “I’ll help Becks with the rest of the dishes. Chat among yourselves.”
“We don’t need permission for that,” Willa voices, causing Clementine to burst into a fit of giggles. Atlas pulls his attention from the Christmas movie he’s watching, but seeing his mom and aunt together must be a common occurrence, since his eyes glue back to the screen in no time.
Satisfied they’re all occupied, I join Beck in the kitchen. Piles of plates and pans stack in the sink and to the side. The more people, the more dishes. “This is going to take over ten minutes,” I admit.
“Yeah, no shit.” Okay, so he’s still pissed. Excellent. “I was jealous.”
“Excuse me?” I don’t process his statement before the words barrel from my mouth.
“That your sweater was uglier than mine.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I kinda figured you wanted to win. Two years in a row wasn’t enough for you.”
He shakes his head. “I wanted to win, but mine couldn’t compete with yours. She’s mad talented, and I was jealous you had the smarts to recruit help.”
“I mentioned it once, and she ran with it. She has all these ideas stored up there. Images, pictures, objects she can bring to life with one thought. It’s amazing.”
“Willa, too. With words. Though I’m not sure I’d want to be in her head for even a few minutes. It seems scary.” He chuckles, handing over a pot for me to dry. “I’m sorry.”
“Aw, Becks, was that hard for you to say?”
Growing up, he was never the one who started trouble.
He was too smart for that. He wasn’t perfect, but he had a way of skirting the truth, of avoiding getting caught.
Somehow, I always took the blame for any idea we were both involved in.
However, when we both got away with stuff, I also got the credit.
“Shut up.”
“Apology accepted. Are you really going to protest the rules?”
“No, it’s supposed to be fun. Besides, I don’t need Clem’s boys thinking that behavior’s okay. Hell, Shania either. She can get into enough trouble on her own. She doesn’t need my help.”
I nod. She’s a great kid who sometimes makes bad choices. I’m sure I made worse at her age. Hell, even still.
“I’m falling for her.” I don’t have to clarify who “her” is.
“Yeah, no shit. For some odd reason, she likes you, too.” He points a soapy ladle at me. “Do right by her.”
It’s the closest I’m going to get to a lecture, and I’m grateful.
“That’s the goal, brother. That’s my plan.”
Now, to make sure I execute it.