Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Rhett
I wake to the soft hiss of the wind against the windows, the house still smelling faintly of wood smoke from last night’s fire.
My eyes blink open to the warm weight of Bristol pressed against me, her hair splayed across my chest in a messy halo.
She’s still wrapped in my arms, one knee tucked over my hip, breathing even and calm.
For a brief second, I allow myself to soak in the moment.
I memorize the light pink heat of her cheek as she sleeps, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way she lets out tiny little sighs every now and again.
“Morning,” I murmur softly, pressing my lips to the top of her head. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent and nuzzling closer.
I can’t help the slow smile that creeps across my face. I brush a strand of hair from her eyes. “Still asleep, huh?” I whisper.
Her fingers tighten around my arm. “Don’t move,” she mutters. “It’s Christmas.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it is.”
The thought hits me: Christmas in Mistletoe Bay, snow still heavy in the streets, streets half-shut from the storm just days ago. And I’m here with her. With her. Not just in town, not just messaging on some app, but here. Close. Real.
I shift slightly so she can stretch without me moving, careful not to disturb the cozy warmth we’ve built. My phone buzzes on the nightstand—a message from Gwen.
LittleSis: Matty’s up. Breakfast’s chaotic. How soon until you get to Mom and Dad’s?
I laugh quietly, shaking my head. Chaos is an understatement when it comes to my sister and her seven-year-old hurricane of a son. I glance down at Bristol, still snuggled against me, her breathing slowing into the deep rhythm of sleep again.
“You up for some holiday chaos?” I ask gently, though I know she’s not awake.
She murmurs something but doesn’t actually answer me.
I grin and carefully untangle myself from her warmth, slipping from bed with as much stealth as possible, though the floorboards groan beneath my weight.
I head for the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. The scent of fresh brewed coffee quickly fills the house. As soon as it’s ready, I fill two mugs.
A quiet murmur from the bedroom catches my attention.
“Rhett…” Bristol’s voice is low, sleepy, and entirely breathless.
I head in that direction, pausing to lean against the doorway.
She’s still tangled in the blankets, one arm draped over my pillow, hair tousled and glowing in the soft light from the windows.
I step closer, setting the mugs down on the dresser. “Ready to wake-up, sleepyhead?”
She blinks at me. “Coffee?”
I nod toward her mug. “Waiting for you.”
She pushes herself up slowly, hugging the blanket around her shoulders as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her hair falls in a wild cascade over her face, and I resist the urge to reach out and smooth it back. There’s something perfect about how disheveled she looks—soft, real, unguarded.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, taking the mug.
“Anytime,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my heart’s doing somersaults.
I don’t think waking up with this woman will ever get old.
“You look cozy,” I tease.
She snorts softly, leaning back against the headboard. “I am. And you’re lucky, because I’m letting you enjoy this view while I drink my coffee.” Her eyes glint with mischief, and I laugh, shaking my head.
“Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I admit, letting my gaze linger on her face. “I’ve been looking forward to this since we went to bed last night.”
Her eyebrows lift, playful and knowing. “Really now?”
“Really.”
For a while, we just sit there, sipping coffee. Every so often, she reaches over to steal a sip from my mug or nudges me with her shoulder, and every touch makes it impossible for me to think of anything but her.
Eventually, she sets her mug down and stretches, hair falling in a messy curtain around her face. “So… what’s the plan? We have to get to your parents’ house eventually, right?”
I grin, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Eventually. But for now, we’ve got time. I can make you breakfast, or we can start the day with a little dessert if we’re feeling ambitious.” I wiggle my brows.
She laughs, the sound soft and musical. “Ambitious, huh? I like that. But, I do recall your sister asking us to be there early. Something about a seven year old being hard to contain.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to save time, and conserve water,” I tell her, taking her coffee mug from her.
I stand and scoop her into my arms, blanket cocoon and all, and carry her into the bathroom. She squeals with laughter and delight.
While I turn on the shower, Bristol drops the blanket and pulls my shirt that she slept in, over her head.
I push my boxers to the floor, and pick her up again, stepping into the shower with her legs already wrapped around my waist.
I fuck her hard and fast under the warm spray of water. When I’m done and we’re both satisfied, we take time washing each other only to end up with my cock buried inside her pussy again.
Dressed and temporarily sated, I grab the last of the gifts, bundle them into the car, and together we step into the snow. Cold air hits our faces, the crunch of the crusted snow underfoot reminding us of the world outside our warm bubble.
I glance at her as we climb into the truck. She’s laughing softly, breath clouding in the morning chill, and I feel my chest tighten with something I can’t quite name. Love, desire, and gratitude all wrapped into one.
The ride to my parents’ house is quiet at first. Bristol’s hand rests lightly on my thigh, her fingers curling around mine now and then, and every time I feel that warmth, a grin creeps across my face.
Snow flurries drift across the windshield, the familiar streets of Mistletoe Bay glistening in white.
It feels like the town itself is taking part in our quiet, perfect morning.
When we pull up to the house, lights twinkling along the eaves, I can already hear the muffled chaos inside—Matty’s laughter, Gwen’s scolding, Sterling trying to keep up, and my dad calling for someone to grab the dog.
My mom opens the door before we even get a chance to ring the bell, enveloping me in a hug that lifts me off the ground slightly.
“Rhett! You made it!” she exclaims, holding me a beat longer than necessary. “And you’ve brought someone with you!”
Bristol’s cheeks pink at the attention, and I feel a swell of pride just seeing her smile. “Hi, Mrs. Jennings,” she says softly, her voice warm and polite.
My mom beams at her. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years!”
“I’m Bristol. It’s wonderful to meet you,” she adds, and the sincerity in her tone makes me tighten my grip on her hand just slightly.
Inside, the house smells of roasted pine, cinnamon, and sugar cookies. Matty appears next, barreling toward me like a small hurricane. “Uncle Rhett! You brought Aunt Bristol!” he yells, hugging me so hard I nearly stumble. He peeks at Bristol with wide eyes. “And you’re cool!”
Bristol crouches slightly to meet him at eye level. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she laughs, and Matty beams. I can already see how good she is with kids; it’s effortless, natural.
Gwen swoops in, her arm around Sterling’s waist, and winks at me. “See? I told you she’d fit right in.”
Sterling waves at Bristol, who gives a small, polite curtsy in response, and my mom claps her hands. “Breakfast is still warm. You two can help yourselves. We had to feed a certain growing boy already.”
We make plates and try to eat quickly so we can get to the main event.
Matty’s recounting his early-morning snow escapades outside, talking so fast that I have to remind him to take a breath.
Gwen and Sterling are laughing along with him, and I steal glances at Bristol as she listens, smiling at every story, occasionally teasing him back.
Her laughter is infectious, and I can’t help but feel my chest swell.
I reach over under the table, sliding my hand into hers. She squeezes it, and the warmth travels straight to my heart. I don’t need to say anything—she already knows.
After breakfast, we move to the living room for gifts.
Matty nearly tackles me trying to grab the first present, and Bristol is laughing so hard that tears form in the corners of her eyes.
I glance at her often, memorizing the way her eyes light up, the crinkle at the corners, the small little noises she makes when she’s genuinely happy.
I feel my chest tighten, knowing that this is what I want to wake up to every Christmas, every day, for as long as I can.
My parents dote on her as if they’ve known her forever.
My dad offers to show her the old Jennings snow globe collection, my mom insists she try the eggnog, and Bristol navigates it all with grace, charm, and humor.
I’ve never seen her like this—so free, so warm, so perfectly at home in a house that isn’t even hers.
And yet, she feels like she belongs. With me.
At one point, Matty tugs at her sleeve. “Can you help me build the gingerbread house?”
She crouches down, brushing her hair out of her face. “Of course, little man. Let’s make it the best gingerbread house Mistletoe Bay has ever seen.”
I watch them from across the room, heat rising in my chest. She bends over, focused, her lips pursed, and her hair falls forward in the cutest, slightly messy halo. I know I’m staring too long, but I don’t care. She belongs here, with me, and nothing else matters but this moment right here.
The rest of the day is a blur of laughter, stories from my childhood, and Matty showing off the hockey moves he’s been practicing.
At one point, he drags Bristol outside to make a snowman.
I watch them through the window, smiling as she laughs, letting him place the carrot nose with care, while he giggles uncontrollably at every step.
I feel a pang of happiness so strong it makes my chest ache.
When they finally come back inside, snow clinging to their coats and hair, Bristol is flushed, cheeks pink from cold and exertion. She brushes her hair back and catches my eye, a silent little grin shared between us, and I realize she’s already become a part of my family.
“I could get used to this,” she murmurs softly, resting her head against my chest.
“I want every Christmas like this. You. Me. Matty. Gwen. Sterling. My parents. Our kids. All of it. Every year.” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Her fingers lace with mine, giving me a soft squeeze. “Me too,” she murmurs.
I know there’s no going back now. She’s part of me. My family adores her. And in the quiet moments, watching her interact with the people I love most, I understand just how much she completes this life I’ve always wanted, even if I didn’t know it until one dating app pointed it out.
And one day…when I know she’s ready…I’ll put a ring on her finger and we’ll walk down the aisle toward our forever.