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The kids woke Scarlett and me up this morning. In bed. Together. I usually sneak out—or have to get up for a meeting—before they wake up, but we should probably have considered that they would get up early on Christmas morning.

Both Scarlett and I had a panicked moment, feeling once again like we were teenagers being caught by our parents after sneaking someone in, but Caitlin and James didn’t care. Well, they cared that we had a Christmas Eve sleepover without them, but otherwise, they didn’t bring it up again as we opened their stockings—Santa brings their main presents to their grandparents’ house—and got them bundled into the car.

Of course, the second we get to Scarlett’s parents’ place, James walks straight up to Landon and says, “Mama and Killian had a sleepover last night without us.”

Loudly. Loudly enough that everyone in the room goes silent for a moment, my dad included. He has to have realized that Scarlett and I slept together last night—James’s room has thin walls, and we did talk before we went to sleep—but he hasn’t mentioned it. And he’d better not mention it today. Not in front of the kids.

“Damn. Did they make a fort?” Landon says, breaking the tension.

“Nope.”

“Sounds like a pretty boring sleepover. I guess that makes me the undisputed king of sleepovers, huh?” He picks James up and swings him around. “Merry Christmas, Bug.”

He sets off a domino effect of “Merry Christmas” wishes and hugs. My dad stands off to the side, just watching. He hasn’t had a Christmas in Clover Pines since before James was born, but from what Scarlett said, her family did their best to make him feel welcome and included when he was here. It can’t have been an easy feat, considering his age and how young she was when he got her pregnant, but I know Scott and Lanie set aside their feelings for Scarlett and Caitlin’s sake. They’re good parents.

Landon, on the other hand … I still can’t believe he hasn’t at least thrown a punch or two at my dad. I haven’t been in a physical fight since high school, but if Fallon had come home at eighteen, pregnant with a forty-something-year-old’s baby, I don’t think I’d have been able to hold back. He’s a better man than I am.

We gather in the living room, around the giant Fraser fir that Landon has been growing for god knows how many years. It’s a hodgepodge of decorations, with a bunch handmade by Scarlett, Landon, and Piper as kids, and similar ones by Caitlin and James in recent years. It’s a true family tree.

The size of the tree is impressive, but the mountain of presents below is even more so. I’m not sure how I end up sitting on the floor with Caitlin and James as the designated wrapping paper trash bag person, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Scarlett is perched on the arm of the couch closest to the tree, watching them tear into their presents with ear-to-ear grins, her eyes glistening. And it doesn’t matter what they unwrap—the kids are thrilled with everything.

“I’m so lucky!” James declares as he opens a pack of animal-themed day-of-the-week socks that Piper got him, hugging them to his chest. They’re so damn sweet.

Whenever they come across a gift for someone else, they stop what they’re doing to take it over and watch as the present is opened, just as excited for everyone else as they are themselves. When we were kids, I don’t think me, Ronan, or Fallon would’ve stopped opening our presents for anyone. Maybe Ronan, but Fallon and I were a little feral.

Caitlin picks up a box wrapped in shiny silver paper and squints at the label. She looks unsure and holds it up to me to read.

To Daddy, love Caitlin and James.

“It’s for your dad, Kit-cat,” I say and she glances between her dad—our dad—and Scarlett.

“Do you want to give it to him?” Scarlett always asks. She never forces them to interact with him, or anyone, if they don’t want to.

Caitlin hesitates for a moment before nodding. She carefully steps over the presents scattered around the floor and crosses the room to where my dad is sitting on a lone dining chair. “Merry Christmas, Daddy,” she says as she hands him the box and gives him a half-hearted hug.

“Thanks, honey,” he replies, unwrapping the box and smiling as he pulls out a picture frame. “Wow. Look at this. Did you make it?”

Caitlin is almost shy when she answers, so different from the Caitlin I’m used to. “Yeah. That’s my handprint, and the small one is James’s. I thought you could hang it in your office to remember us when you’re at work, since you’re away so much.”

Ouch. My dad’s smile slips, but he recovers it.

“I love it. Thank you.”

Caitlin skips back over to open her next present, and I swear that everyone in the room takes a collective breath. This kind of tension can’t be good for the kids.

After presents and a double-serving of Scott’s breakfast casserole that I know I’m going to regret later, when I’m too full for seconds of dinner, Landon, Fallon, and I go out with the kids while they build snowmen. Fallon gets stuck in with them, while Finn barks and runs circles around them. Landon and I sit on the covered porch with Honey. I’m wearing a thermal shirt, a thick sweater, my puffer jacket, a scarf, gloves, and a hat that covers my ears. Landon is wearing a flannel shirt and a beanie. Maybe by the time next Christmas rolls around, I’ll be used to the cold here.

I’m excited to see Clover Pines in the warmer months too, though. The mountains are beautiful blanketed in snow, and the frosty fields are like something out of a movie, but I know Scarlett likes to take the kids on longer walks through the forest and around Pine Creek when the weather is better, and I want that. Christmas has been a dream, but I want Valentine’s Day, and Easter, and birthdays. I want to make Scarlett breakfast in bed with the kids on Mother’s Day.

Landon laughs, pulling me out of my head.

“What?” I ask, when I find him staring at me.

“You’re standing there, smiling, with a dreamy-ass look on your face, and I know you’re thinking about my sister. You are so fucking gone.”

My face warms. I’ll take it; it’s freezing. “I am,” I admit, embarrassed about getting caught, not for how I feel about Scarlett.

“So, what’s the plan? Long distance isn’t good for two young kids. Your dad has proven that.”