Chapter 33
“Home for Christmas”
One Year Later
Greyson rose from his chair with fluid grace, setting Rat in the warmth of his seat as he crossed to the wet bar to refill his bourbon.
But instead of returning to his chair, he moved toward Wren, settling beside her on the sofa with the kind of easy intimacy that still made her pulse quicken.
Rat, realizing his daddy wasn’t returning, shortly followed, curling onto her lap as Greyson pulled her close.
“You know what I love about this story?” He set his glass on the side table and reached for her left hand, his thumb tracing the simple platinum band that had replaced his makeshift bootlace ring. “It has a happy ending.”
“Does it?” Soren asked with a knowing smirk. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like it’s just getting started.”
Greyson’s hand moved from Wren’s ring to rest gently on the curve of her belly, where their child grew safe and warm, nestled in a nest of Maine coon fur beneath.
The gesture was so natural, so protective, that Wren’s heart swelled with the same overwhelming love that hit her daily—sometimes hourly.
“Any day now,” she murmured, covering his hand with hers. “Can you believe it?”
“Yes, because I always knew this was how it was meant to be, but some days the reality still shocks the hell out of me.”
“Get a room,” Logan grumbled.
Greyson ignored him and kissed Wren’s temple, his voice rough with emotion as he whispered, “You’re going to be an amazing mother. Just like our moms were.”
Logan leaned forward in his chair, expression softening as he watched them. “You know what’s crazy? Last Christmas, we were all convinced we were doomed to be miserable bastards like Dad. And now look at us.”
“Speak for yourself,” Soren said, arrogance wafting from him as usual. “Some of us have always been charming.”
“Right,” Wren laughed, softly stroking Rat’s long fur. “Is that what we’re calling your behavior lately?”
Soren’s ears turned red. “We agreed never to speak of that!”
“Speak of what?” Logan frowned. “What did I miss?”
“You agreed,” Wren said with theatrical innocence. “I never promised anything.”
“What did I ever do to you?”
“The pantry,” Greyson said.
“The parade,” Logan added.
“All right!” Soren snapped. “What are you two, her scorekeepers?”
Wren dissolved into laughter. “I’m protected at all angles. You can’t threaten me.”
Greyson’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “And if you try, I’ll personally send a detailed manifesto of every dirty little secret I know about you to Lady Lovewatch.”
“As if you even know who Lady Lovewatch is.” Soren crossed his arms.
“Wait, I’m still confused,” Logan griped. “What dirty secrets?”
Wren and Greyson shared a knowing look, then sealed their lips shut with an invisible key.
“You both suck. It’s probably dumb anyway. Soren’s life’s boring as hell since he became CEO.”
Wren snickered. Soren’s life hadn’t been boring in a long time.
Outside, snow continued to fall past the windows, transforming the harbor into a winter wonderland. Christmas lights twinkled from the eves as the fire crackled softly and a familiar swell of contentment settled over her.
“You know what I realized?” she said suddenly. “This is the first Christmas in years where none of us are dreading it.”
“Yeah,” Greyson agreed, glancing down at his tacky holiday sweater he picked up in town.
Wren smiled, looking down at her matching one he insisted she wear tonight. “This is exactly how Christmas should be.”
“Peaceful,” Soren said, stretching his legs toward the fire..
“Together,” Logan added.
“With those you love,” Greyson finished, pulling her closer to his side.
Once her boys had permission to feel all the emotions they were warned never to express, they could grasp the true meaning of Christmas.
Beyond the commercialism and chaos, was the truth.
One day a year, everything paused so that feelings could mend.
Families came together to prove, despite the ups and downs, love endures all.
Wren smiled. “We have one hell of a Christmas story.”
Greyson laughed. “Too bad we all tell it differently. Maybe one day we’ll get it right so we can tell the kids.”
“What’s left to tell?” Logan asked. “Boy meets girl. Boys fight over girl. Girl chooses boy. Boy and girl get married and live happily ever after.”
“You’re forgetting the best part,” Soren protested.
“Which is?”
“Middle son and favorite future uncle becomes financial giant and global sensation among the ladies.”
They all burst into laughter.
“No.”
“Yeah, right!”
“More like the total opposite.”
“You know what,” Soren snapped. “Screw all of you.”
Wren’s smile lingered as she looked up at Greyson, her heart full to bursting with everything they’d built together. “Is this your happy ending, Mr. Hawthorne?”
“No. This is my beginning,” he whispered, kissing her nose.
“Get a room!”
“Boo…”
The more his brothers grumbled the more he made a spectacle of kissing her. Wren didn’t mind, because she’d waited a lifetime for his kisses and had a lifetime ahead of her to enjoy them. And she planned to.
The Christmas tree glowed from the corner under warm lights, its branches heavy with ornaments they’d hung together as a family—keeping their tradition from the year before.
Gone were the cold brass decorations that once made this house feel more like a mausoleum than a home, and in their place were personal touches like photographs and meaningful knick-knacks resurrected from the boxes in the attic.
It was perfect. Not magazine-perfect or Instagram-perfect, but real-life perfect, with all its beautiful imperfections and unexpected chaos.
Logan sighed and stretched his legs closer to the fire. “I love Christmas.”
“Yeah,” Soren agreed, staring at the flames as he sipped his drink. “Me too. Reminds me of Mom.”
Greyson’s hand pressed gently against Wren’s belly. “Reminds me of you.”
Her hand closed over his. “It’s what brought you back, year after year.”
He shook his head. “Christmas was the excuse I needed, but we all know I came back for you.”
The fire popped and settled, casting dancing shadows on the walls. In the distance, church bells chimed the hour, their notes carrying across the snowy harbor like a benediction.
“Merry Christmas,” Greyson murmured against her hair.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered back. “This time next year, we’ll be hiding presents under the tree.”
“I can’t wait.”
She never feared him running away again. Together, they made a home. A family. And it was exactly where the four of them wanted to be.