Epilogue
ASHLEY
The Christmas carnival is even bigger than it was last year, all thanks to Ginger and her brilliant ability to not only plan the event, but persuade half the community to pitch in for a good cause.
Since last year, other charities have been clamoring for her to host fundraisers for them. She’s only taken on two new clients, though, both preparing for late spring and early summer events. This gives her long enough after her due date to adjust and get well.
Luckily for her, four parents are better than one, and she won’t have to lift a finger if she doesn’t want to.
The guys and I already have a rotation in place as we build her the house of her dreams, which will be ready in time for her to bring our son into the world. I’m sure she’s sick of never getting any alone time, but it’s hard to keep myself away from her.
I know they guys feel the same way.
I crowd around her now as she holds her clipboard. The end settles on her round, pregnant belly, which is accentuated by the maternity elf costume Gracie convinced her to wear. I got to rub her down with lotion just this morning before holding her. It’s her new favorite thing, having one of us stand behind her and take the weight of our baby off her shoulders. Or back. Pelvis?
I itch to do it for her now, but it’s not the time. Instead, I rub my hand low on her back. “What’s next on that list of yours?”
“The children’s performance in thirty. We need to be sure they have their props and that the area is sectioned off for the other kids to sit and watch.”
“Already done, but why don’t we check on things anyway.”
Sighing, Ginger nods, taking my arm when I offer it. Even at seven months pregnant, she’s nimble and fast—if a little unbalanced at times. We make it to the middle of the carnival and find everything set up the way she instructed.
There’s a big comfy chair off to the side that I direct her to. Because what she doesn’t know is that the children’s Christmas pageant is a ruse. One Jackson, Sawyer, and I conspired with Gracie to make happen.
When I guide her to that seat and take her clipboard from her, Ginger frowns up at me.
“Just take a minute to rest and enjoy. I’m going to grab you some hot cocoa, and you’re going to kick your feet up. All right?”
She’s still frowning, but she nods. I kiss her cheek and run off to grab said cocoa. It’s the only way I know how to slow her down. Otherwise, she’ll be hopping from one thing to another until she’s exhausted.
Getting the cocoa takes a few minutes, and when I return, I can see her struggling to get out of the chair.
“Hey, remember the doctor’s orders for today? Less work, more enjoying yourself.”
Ginger huffs at me but takes the Styrofoam cup with a sigh. “I just want to be sure…”
“Everything has been taken care of. I promise.” I settle her back and kiss the top of her head. “Just sit and watch.”
I rub her shoulders and neck until the small curtain on the makeshift stage flutters. It’s my signal to head back.
“I’m going to check on Gracie. You stay put, Momma Elf.”
She folds her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing on me like she knows I’m up to something.
I dash behind the stage and see all of the kids grinning at me. “Ready?”
Gracie’s fist rises in the air, and the kids follow in a silent declaration.
Sawyer hits play on the sound station, and the kids filter out past the curtain to begin with a small skit Gracie and Emily wrote together.
Emily is beside her dad, hand squeezing his before she pulls the ring boxes from her jacket pockets to hand to each of us. “Break a leg!”
Honestly, Emily has been a Godsend. She’s willing to tell us how wrong we are when it comes to taking care of Ginger. And by God, she’s usually right. How a teenager can know so much about romance is beside me, but I’ll take all the advice I can get.
I want this to last.
Slipping off my coat, I take the suit jacket Emily offers me. She smiles at the three of us.
“You approve?” Jackson asks.
“Very much. She’s going to be wowed. But I still can’t believe you let her come to this dressed as an elf.” Her hands plant themselves on her hips. It’s a mini-mom pose. Gracie does it, too. It’s Ginger’s signature move.
“We have our reasons,” Jackson says. And we do. She’s been our elf this whole time. It feels like it’s all come full circle.
Besides, she looks hot in those striped tights.
When the narrator mentions the three elves, that’s our cue. We step onto that small stage, surrounded by children in costume, and the crowd that is milling around stops moving.
Gracie is at Ginger’s side, prodding her to her feet, but Bennett is the one who helps her stand and walks her toward us. His anger has subsided. Most of his threats went with it.
The kids hop off the front of the stage and swarm her, drawing her in as we follow.
Her eyes glitter as she takes us in. The sun is just setting, making her hair come alive like fire. And when we drop to our knees before her, her hand shoots up to cover her ruby mouth.
We open our boxes in unison—this was my idea. I may have been watching lots of romantic comedies with Gracie.
Ginger’s mouth is pursed. She’s trying not to smile. Or cry. Or probably both. Her hormones are nuts right now. “The three elves, huh?”
I grin up at her. “What can we say? We’ve got a theme going here.”
A full smile finally blooms over her pretty mouth as she looks at the three rings. They’re really three parts of one ring. Sawyer designed and made them for us.
“One of Christmas magic and wishes coming true,” Jackson says, smooth as ever.
Her nose wrinkles, but she’s beaming.
“What do you say? Want to be ours forever?” My brows lift. It’s not the most romantic way to say it, but it fits us.
Sawyer elbows me, and Ginger laughs. It’s exactly the reaction I want.
The big guy plucks the three rings from our boxes and fits them together when she nods and holds out her hand. He slides it on her finger and kisses her knuckles.
Ginger lifts her hand to examines it with the biggest grin. “You’re all fools, but I love you.”
We stand as one, surrounding her.
“We’re taking that as a yes,” Jackson says, planting a chaste kiss on her mouth.
“Yes.” Her voice is full of mirth.
The crowd claps and cheers. Most of the town knows us and got to witness enough of the drama at our Fourth of July barbeque.
The kids are the loudest, jumping and screaming around us.
Once the cheers die down, we nestle her back in the chair I planted her in earlier so the kids can do another skit about two elves getting married.
When it’s done, and the kids are dispersing, Ginger wiggles up a little straighter. “We can’t actually get married…”
“No, but we can still have a ceremony.” Sawyer is rubbing her hand, staring at the ring on her left hand. It looks perfect there.
“We could have it right there under the arch of lights,” I suggest. I don’t want to wait, and we can pull it off. Brenda is more than ready to put on a performance of her own.
Ginger purses her mouth and narrows her eyes at me. “In my elf costume?”
I shrug. “It was just a thought. Momma Elf.”
She frowns at me for a moment, then starts laughing. “Why not? After all, being an elf was what made you all fall in love with me in the first place.”
“Is that a yes?” I ask.
She grins. “It’s a yes.”