Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Three
Xavier
Christmas Eve Night
The house quiets as the night winds down. Dishes clink in the sink while people move around the kitchen, finishing cleanup.
Ben insists on washing everything even though it’s not his house. Emily dries. Bella wipes down counters. Jake carries trash outside while muttering about why anyone would need seventeen baking dishes for one meal. He didn’t complain about that when he was eating.
Ruby tries helping until three different people tell her to sit down.
“You’re pregnant,” Bella says firmly. “You’re benched.”
Ruby rolls her eyes dramatically but obeys, settling into one of the kitchen chairs while watching everyone move around her.
I lean against the counter beside her. “You enjoying this?”
Her lips curve. “Brookhaven at its finest.”
“Everybody invading your house?”
“Yes.” She nudges my foot with hers. “But it’s our house.”
The words settle deep in my chest. Our house. A few months ago that sentence would’ve terrified me. Now I can’t imagine wanting anything else.
Emily points at Squirt’s bed. “What’s that?”
“Socks. Squirt has a sock fetish,” I say without bothering to look.
“I’ll remember not to take my socks off.”
Everyone laughs at Emily’s comment, but no one takes off their socks. I don’t blame them. I’ve had to buy four packages of socks in the last month to keep up with his habit.
One by one, everyone starts grabbing coats and leftovers. Hugs get passed around. Grace wakes up long enough to fuss sleepily before Jake settles her again.
Bella hugs Ruby until she squeaks. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Dominic claps my shoulder on the way past. “Take care of her.”
“Always.” Simple. True.
Eventually the front door closes behind the last person. Silence settles over the house. Not empty silence. Peaceful.
Ruby walks back into the living room, pausing beside the Christmas tree. Colored lights reflect across her face while snow drifts outside the windows. Beautiful. She’s utterly beautiful. The most perfect woman I’ve ever seen.
Her eyes meet mine, and my stomach drops. And she has no idea how thoroughly she wrecks me.
She sinks onto the couch with a sigh. “Well.”
I sit beside her. “That was a success.”
She curls against my side like it's instinct now. My arm slides around her shoulders while her legs tuck across the couch beneath her.
The fire dances and crackles. Christmas lights blink lazily along the mantle. Outside, snow falls thick and slow enough to make the whole world feel quieter.
Ruby adjusts beside me, resting one hand against her stomach. “You think the baby will like Christmas?”
I smile. “I think the baby is already spoiled.”
She laughs that perfect laugh that makes my blood hum. “Probably.” Her fingers slide through mine. “What do you think it’ll be?”
“I don’t care.” Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me. Besides, Dad is right. This won’t be our only child. Because Ruby growing round with my child is the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.
“I know.” She tilts her head against my shoulder as I rest my palm over her rounded belly. “But I still think about it.”
“Me too.”
“Boy or girl?”
I shrug. “Either.”
“Same.” A beat passes. Then…. “If it’s a girl,” Ruby says thoughtfully, “she’s definitely inheriting your attitude.”
I look down at her. “My attitude?”
“You’re bossy.”
I kiss the top of her head. “You stole my blanket last night.”
“It became our blanket.”
“That’s not how theft works.”
Ruby grins against my shoulder. “You survived.”
“Barely.” She laughs again and shifts farther beneath the throw blanket draped across the couch. Most of it disappears onto her side. I stare at the remaining three inches covering my leg. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Committing blanket crimes.”
Her eyes twinkle with mock innocence. “There are no laws on Christmas.”
“Convenient.”
She snuggles deeper against me with no shame. Squirt grunts loudly beside the fireplace. Traitor. I shake my head, reposition her against the sofa cushions, and place her feet on my lap.
“What’re you doing?”
“Your feet are freezing.”
“They’re fine.”
“They’re ice cubes.”
She makes a suspiciously happy sound when I start rubbing slow circles along the arch of her foot. “Okay,” she mutters. “That’s nice.”
“I know.”
“You’re smug tonight.”
“You stole my blanket.”
“Shared blanket.”
I laugh under my breath while her eyes drift half shut against the cushions. Relaxed. Safe. Happy. I didn’t know life could feel like this. Not really. Not until her.
Ruby turns her head and kisses me. Warm. Lazy. Content. Nothing desperate about it anymore. Just us.
My hand slides along her calf beneath the blanket while her fingers curl against my chest.
“You know,” she murmurs against my mouth, “you’d probably survive if the baby likes me better.”
“Not happening.”
She smiles. “You sound confident.”
“I’ve got a solid lead right now.”
She laughs again, and the sound settles somewhere permanent inside my chest.
Outside, snow continues falling through the dark. The fire burns low. The tree glows. And Ruby turns to molten heat under my fingertips.
Somewhere between stolen blankets, warm kisses, and watching Ruby shatter into a million pieces…. I’ve stopped waiting for this happiness to disappear.