Epilogue - Beau
Two years later
Clara’s not being subtle. She’s pretending to fiddle with her camera settings while she’s clearly aiming the lens right at my backside as I hang lights along the porch roof. The shutter keeps clicking in this steady rhythm that sounds a whole lot like appreciation disguised as “work.”
Comet, wearing his antlers for the first time this season, wags hard enough to jiggle the entire strand of lights. He’s already stepped through the cord twice and dragged the extension plug across the porch like he’s towing a sled.
“I can hear that shutter,” I say without turning.
“It’s for the book,” Clara calls back. “Our readers love candid shots.”
“My readers don’t need this much of my ass.”
She laughs, low and wicked, and I feel it straight down my spine. Comet sneezes as if he agrees.
Our readers. Still wild to think I have those. The captions I wrote for her photography blog somehow turned into a hardback book people actually buy. The third edition comes out next month.
Clara comes up behind me and slides her arms around my waist. The heat of her body sinks right through my flannel, and I take a second to just breathe her in. She’s so warm and sweet that it always makes me want to pull her closer than is polite in public.
“Ready for tonight? Can you deal with your parents being there?” she asks.
“Evie’s party? Sure.” I turn and kiss her, slow enough that she makes this small, soft sound I’ll never get tired of hearing. “With you by my side, their comments don’t bother me. Warning though. My sister’s still got a weird crush on her boss and I think she’s invited him.”
“The grumpy guy?” Clara raises an eyebrow.
“That’s the one. She volunteers for him twice a week but claims she’s only being professional. Meanwhile, he stares at her every time he thinks nobody’s watching.”
Clara snorts. “Oh, she’s done for.”
“Completely gone.” I crouch to adjust Comet’s antlers, which are already slipping toward his left ear. He wiggles like he’s doing a runway walk. “Speaking of holiday disasters, I should probably tell you why he loves these things.”
Clara lights up. “I remember when I first met you, you said it was a long story. I forgot to ask why. I guess I just accepted he was half-reindeer, half-pupper.”
I rest a hand on Comet’s head. He leans into it with the pride of a dog who absolutely knows he’s the star of every room he enters.
“When I first moved up here, Comet found this old box of Uncle’s decorations. Pulled out these antlers and carried them everywhere until I put them on his head.”
Clara smiles up at me.
“He’d escape from the truck whenever we went to town. I’d find him in the Christmas market wearing these stupid antlers, surrounded by kids like he was hosting a meet-and-greet. He made everyone laugh. As soon as the tree comes out every year, we have to get the antlers out too.”
Clara touches my jaw. Her eyes soften in that way that always undoes me a little. “That’s so cute. Beau…”
She kisses me and it’s the kind that makes my hands automatically curve around her waist and pull her in until there isn’t space left between us. Her breath is warm against my mouth, and for a second, I consider forgetting the lights and hauling her back inside.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“Love you too.” My heart kicks hard. “Actually… speaking of traditions.”
I drop to one knee in the middle of the porch. Her breath catches, her hand flying to her mouth as I open the ring box. The ring is silver set around a carved design I made, with a diamond that sparks in the porch lights.
“Clara,” I say, voice steady even though my chest is thudding, “you make every day into Christmas. Marry me.”
She starts laughing and crying at the same time. “Yes. Yes, Beau.”
Comet barks and spins in a circle so fast that one of his antlers flies off and skids across the porch.
Clara launches herself at me, and I catch her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as she kisses me.
This is what love feels like. Warm. A little chaotic. Bright in places I thought would stay dark forever.
This is Christmas.