Melina
Five Days Later
I stood at the sink, absently washing my hands and staring out the steamed-up window at the snow falling in pretty patterns through the sky. The entire yard was covered in a thick blanket of white, so soft and fluffy-looking, I wished I could run outside and dive in.
The doorbell rang, snapping me back to reality, and I grabbed a towel to dry my hands as I headed for the front door. But I didn’t get far before an arm snagged around my waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Zane growled in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
I turned in his arms, and his deep, forest-colored gaze captured mine. “To get the door.”
“You’re too busy. Let me get it.”
“You just want to keep me barefoot in your kitchen,” I teased.
“You mean our kitchen.” His lips curved into that wicked smile I’d never get tired of. “And not barefoot. Naked.”
A burst of heat coursed through me, and suddenly I was far too turned on for the company we were about to welcome. “Well, since that’s probably my family freezing to death on our front porch, you’re out of luck. At least until they go home.”
“Then we better make this dinner fast.” He spun me toward the kitchen and sent me off with a swat on my behind.
“Watch yourself, Alexander,” I warned, shooting a look over my shoulder. “You don’t want to make me angry.”
“You know I love it when you’re bossy, firecracker. I’m hard just thinking about it,” he called, loud enough for the entire house to hear as he strode toward the door.
And now I was even more turned on.
Damn him.
Back in the kitchen, I was pulling the turkey from the oven when Avery sauntered in. Her blonde hair was loosely curled into soft waves that framed her petite face, and her cheeks were still rosy from the cold.
“Wow, Meli.” Her wide eyes scanned the room. “I thought this was a family Christmas dinner. How many people did you invite?”
I set the heavy roasting pan on top of the stove and looked over the line of serving dishes spread across the counters. Practically every inch of space was filled. “I might have gotten a little ambitious.”
“Well, you know I can’t cook to save my life, so just tell me what I can do to help.”
“I know my way around a kitchen, if you need another set of hands,” Nate offered from the doorway. He was sporting a new beard that made him look gruffer than ever, even with the corners of his mouth tipped up in a rare smile.
“What have you got there?” I asked, nodding to the large tray he was carrying.
He lifted the corner of the tinfoil cover and peeked under it. “Gingerbread, shortbread, snickerdoodles, and about a dozen other cookies I can’t name. Still warm.”
“Mrs. Walker?” I asked.
“Who else? She’s right behind me. Zane’s helping her with her coat.”
Of course he was. “You can put the tray over there,” I said, motioning toward the far counter.
Avery hovered as Nate found room for the cookies, stealing a snickerdoodle at her first opportunity.
“Those are incredible,” she said through a mouthful, crumbs dusting her sweater. “Who is this woman?”
“The best neighbor on the planet,” I said. “And if you eat all her snickerdoodles before dinner, Zane will never forgive you.”
“I’ve been ordered to chill the wine, even though I’m not allowed to have any,” Olivia grumbled as she stormed past us to the refrigerator.
“Don’t worry, Liv,” Avery said. “We’ll take you out to celebrate on your birthday, and you can have as many drinks as you can handle. Legally.”
“Thanks,” Olivia sighed. “It just seems silly considering how many drinks I’ve already had illegally.”
“Yes, but Dad doesn’t want to witness it,” I said.
“Oh, it wasn’t Dad who banned me from the alcohol tonight.” Olivia leaned into the open fridge, rooting for a spot to fit the wine, before turning to me with a smirk. “It was your boyfriend, who I now regret ever inviting to family dinner.”
“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” I reminded her.
“Don’t push it.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Then make yourself useful and help me take some of this stuff to the table.”
Olivia rolled her eyes but grabbed two serving dishes without being told which ones.
Say what you want about her attitude, Olivia always had my back. And after years of preparing family dinners together, it didn’t matter that this one was in a new place, with new people. She took my request and ran with it, no instruction needed.
Avery followed behind with the salad and rolls, and Nate carried the cranberry sauce, leaving me alone at the stove for a moment.
I could hear them in the dining room. Olivia bossing Lucy about where to put the napkins. Dad’s slow, labored laugh at something Mrs. Walker had said. Nate’s low voice, steady and calm as always. Avery already stealing another cookie.
And threading through all of it was Zane’s easy warmth. The sound of him talking to my father, the rumble of his laugh, the way his voice carried through the house like it had always been part of my life.
A lump formed in my throat, and I pressed my hands flat against the counter to steady myself.
Just over a month ago, this kitchen had been empty. This house had been just Zane’s—a nice place to live, nothing more. And I’d been across town, drowning in bills and responsibility and grief, convinced that asking for help was the same as admitting defeat.
Now the counters were covered in food I’d cooked. The dining room was full of people I loved. And the man in the other room had given me the keys to his house and told me, It was never a home until you were in it.
“You okay in here?” Nate wandered over, leaning against the counter beside me.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Just having a moment.”
He nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing. “Want me to carve the turkey?”
I considered it. My dad usually did it—it was tradition. But maybe it was time for something new. New house, new people, new chapter.
“Actually, I think Zane should do it,” I said. “Since it’s his house.”
“Our house,” Zane corrected from the kitchen doorway, and I turned to find him leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a look on his face that made my chest ache. “How many times, firecracker?”
“At least a few more,” I admitted. “It’s hard to get used to.”
“What part?”
“The part where I have something this good and I didn’t have to sacrifice everything to get it.”
His expression softened, and he crossed the room in three strides, pulling me against him. “You sacrificed plenty. You just don’t give yourself credit for it.”
Behind us, Nate slipped out of the kitchen without a word. He always knew when to disappear.
“That’s what I have you for,” I murmured.
“Damn right.” Zane kissed my forehead, then my nose, then the corner of my mouth. “Now stop being emotional and let me carve this bird before your sister stages a coup.”
“Too late!” Olivia called from the dining room. “The coup is already in progress.”
Zane laughed and released me, rolling up his sleeves as he approached the turkey with the kind of determination he usually reserved for important things, like making me come.
I leaned against the counter and watched him, this man who’d walked away from everything for me and somehow ended up with more than he’d started with.
We both had.
Dinner was loud and messy and perfect. Dad sat at the head of the table, Mrs. Walker beside him, the two of them trading stories about winters past while Lucy listened with wide eyes.
Olivia and Avery argued about something I couldn’t follow, and Nate ate in his usual methodical silence, occasionally smirking at whatever chaos was unfolding around him.
And Zane, at the other end of the table from my father, kept finding excuses to touch me. A hand on my knee. His fingers brushing mine when he passed the gravy. His foot hooked around my ankle under the table.
Every point of contact said the same thing. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. This is real.
After dinner, while the others migrated to the living room, I found myself at the sink again. Same window. Same snow. But nothing else was the same.
Zane came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Good dinner, firecracker.”
“Good life,” I murmured, leaning back into him.
“Getting better every day.” His arms tightened. “You know, a few weeks ago, I was standing in a ballroom in a suit I hated, wondering if I’d lost you for good.”
“Good thing I came and found you.”
“Now I’ve got a house full of people who actually like me, a woman who loves me, and a plate of Mrs. Walker’s snickerdoodles waiting for me on the counter.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “I’d say things turned out all right.”
“Just all right?”
“Okay, pretty fucking spectacular. But don’t let it go to your head.”
I turned in his arms, looping mine around his neck. “Zane?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for not giving up. On us. On me.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He kissed me, and he tasted like cranberry sauce and home. “You ruined me for anything less, remember?”
I smiled against his lips. “Merry Christmas, Zane best-boyfriend-ever Alexander.”
“Merry Christmas, firecracker.” He pulled back to look at me, and the love in his eyes was so plain, so steady, so completely without condition, that I almost couldn’t stand it.
“Now let’s go join our family before Olivia drinks the wine she’s not supposed to have, and your dad falls asleep in the recliner. ”
“He’s already asleep in your recliner.”
“Our recliner.”
I laughed, and he took my hand, and we walked into the living room together. Mrs. Walker was showing Lucy how to knit. Nate was stoking the fire. Avery was curled up in the corner of the couch, scrolling her phone. Olivia was, in fact, sneaking wine.
And Dad was asleep in the recliner, snoring softly, looking more peaceful than I’d seen him in a long time.
This was my life now. Messy and imperfect and held together by stubbornness, love, and more snickerdoodles than any one household should consume.
And I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.