EPILOGUE
Holly
“Happy Christmas Kringle Comet Day!” Cliff shouts as he enters the house, throws down his coat and kicks off his snow boots. Todd’s at the kitchen table beside me, working on winter break chemistry homework. He just snorts and rolls his eyes.
I get up and pour Cliff a cup of hot chocolate out of the thermos as I ask, “Hey, how was sledding? And what is Christmas Kringle Comet Day?” Did I miss another made-up school holiday?
It’s been a year of topsy-turvy learning curves, and I’ve mostly nailed it.
But I’ve definitely missed a few things.
“It’s the anniversary of your comet! We should celebrate. I was thinking cake!” He throws his body at the table to grab the mug. Todd snaps at him not to jiggle the table. And I stand there, frozen in time, staring at my watch, hoping the boys don’t see the tears in my eyes.
Has it really been a year?
Yes, it has!
“Well then, after you do your homework, we’ll make a cake.” I pretend not to notice that Todd gives Cliff a high-five. He may be a surly teen, but he is smart enough to show appreciation when his brother wins them cake.
“Do I have to do my homework? It doesn’t have to get turned in until next year.” He says with strong emphasis.
“I know,” I say as I get out a mixing bowl to prep. “But if you do it now, then you don’t have to think about it anymore, and we can enjoy the next two weeks together. How’s that sound?”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” I say, holding out my pinky for him. It glints with the gold of a small ring, a kid-drawn comet etched across it. They had it custom-made for me for my birthday this year.
“Did you get all your homework done, too?” Cliff asks with one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“As a matter of fact, that’s what I was doing while I helped Todd with the last of his chemistry assignment. I have three more essays to grade, and one article to write. I purposefully made sure that my workload would be lighter this holiday break.
Semi-satisfied, Cliff drags his backpack over and pulls out a folder with his homework. Together, he and Todd munch on veggies and cookies—it’s called balance—and I sit across from them to finish my grading.
By the time we can smell the chocolate cake baking, Jack is home. And we’re together. Our little family.
While the boys play video games and I make dinner, I tell Jack about Cliff’s anniversary declaration.
“Well, of course,” he says in a low voice as he wraps his arms around my waist while I chop veggies for the lasagna.
“He’s a romantic, like his dad.” That makes me laugh so hard I have to set my knife down.
And it’s true, Jack Noel is a romantic, but he’s a very understated romantic.
He would never hold a sign up in Times Square declaring his love for me.
But he will make me breakfast in bed. Buy us a townhome near campus and move us all in without a complaint, even though it means giving up his big ranch home.
Anna and Hans live in it now, so it’s still in the family.
He makes sure the boys are thriving in their new schools and sports and robotics team, and he shows up to every game.
Jack was the one who suggested matching tattoos—comets with the official name, C/2022 X1 Comet, etched underneath, with the lat and long and the date.
His runs the length of his forearm—not hiding it from anybody.
Mine is more discreet, but only because of teaching.
“You’re right. He does get his romanticism from you.” I turn to kiss him, but he steps away from me to pull something out of his pocket.
“Boys!” he yells. There’s a clatter of plastic onto the floor and scrambling feet as they hustle to the kitchen. Weird. Normally, there’s at least one “Five more minutes!”, but not tonight.
As soon as they slide to a stop, Jack drops to one knee and opens the little box in his hand.
“Dr. Holly Doughty, before I met you, I had a hole in my heart that I ignored. It made me grumpy and unavailable to my kids. You not only filled that hole with love, but you brightened all our lives with your laughter, your zest, and your science facts. Will you please make me officially the happiest man alive by being my wife?”
There are no words. My face is too busy crying to say anything.
I nod vigorously, standing there dumbstruck.
The boys both shout out and dance around us in a silly wild dance.
Jack stands, puts the ring on my hand, and pulls me close for a hug.
Both boys tackle, smashing us into a dog pile group of mushy love. It’s perfect.
Later, in the dark of our room, I take the ring off to put on lotion, then place it back on my finger. It’s heavy, and I’ve managed to poke myself with the diamond three times tonight, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.
I rather thought the pinky ring was all I needed.
I knew he was devoted. That he loved me.
And I didn’t want to intrude on his and Todd’s memories of Becca, or try to take her place.
They both reassured me tonight that I wasn’t.
Both boys want me to be their bonus mom.
Cliff even said, “Goodnight, Mom,” making fresh tears start as I tucked him in and shut the door behind me.
“You smell good,” Jack murmurs as I crawl into bed beside him. I answer him with a kiss. Deep, passionate.
“Say it again,” I demand, slightly breathless, once I pull away. His hands never leave my hips, where they hold me close.
“You smell good,” he says in that same murmur. I laugh.
“No, the part of being your wife.” I’m glad it’s dark and he can’t see my fiery cheeks.
I know it’s so silly to crave hearing those words whispered to me.
But it’s also silly that a year ago, my life flipped on its head because of a ball of ice in the sky.
Now I have a soon to be husband who loves me, and two kids that put up with me dragging them outside in the middle of the night to look at stars.
“Holly, my wife, I love you. I can’t wait for it to be official, but just so you know, in my heart, it’s already seared with a stamp that’s official.
” With that, he rolls over onto me, pinning me.
My early Christmas gift to him was getting our bedroom wall re-insulated, and though I love when he makes me be quiet, I intend to be loud tonight.
His fingers run through my folds, rub my clit. “You’re already wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.” The awe in his voice makes me tingle.
“Just being yours turns me on,” I admit. He kisses me again, this time inserting one finger, then two, stretching me, hitting that perfect spot behind my clit, until I can no longer kiss him because I’m panting too hard.
Falling apart in pleasure, just from his fingers, makes me feral and wild. “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says and rolls us over so I’m on top, straddling him. I plunge down on his cock, needing it to ease the throbbing inside me, needing more to clench than just his fingers.
“So full,” I moan. This time, he doesn’t put a hand on my mouth. He suckles one tit, then the other, as I ride my man, my billionaire mountain man, into my second orgasm.
Jack pumps hard to keep up my pace, and when he comes, he says my name. But then as he tucks my hair behind my ear, he whispers it again, just to see me shiver in delight. “My wife, I love you.”
When I can breathe easily again, I tell him, “I love you, too, my husband.”
Thank you for reading The Mountain Man's Christmas Claim. I hope you loved Holly and Jack’s story.