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Then, quieter, almost hesitant: “Isabelle? Should the kids and I wait outside? We don’t want to get in the way.”
Everyone stopped and stared at her.
Michael sat tucked in the big armchair by the window, Nintendo Switch in hand, still wearing that ridiculous Chewbacca beanie, and said without looking up, “Oh no, Annie, that would be a really bad idea. Like… like going to Mordor without Samwise.”
Annie stared at him. Isabelle bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Sage smiled, waiting for it.
“Umm… why, Michael?”
Michael paused his game and stared at Annie in genuine disbelief. Then he gestured at the mountain of gifts and said, “Because… the gifts would not be… you know… opened?” He resumed playing, speaking around a half-eaten cookie. “Besides…” He paused to take a long drink of milk, leaving a ridiculous white mustache above his lip. “We can’t open gifts unless the whole family is here.”
Annie looked a little shocked. “But… we’re not fam—”
“Okay, that’s it,” Sage said, walking over and gently pulling Annie up to stand beside her. Mary Sue watched from her seat and gave Sage an encouraging nod.
Sage took a deep breath, her voice warm and steady. “All in favor of adopting Annie, Tommy, Ethan, and Lily Townsend as family, raise your hand.”
Annie’s eyes filled instantly with tears.
Every hand in the room went up — even Michael’s, still playing one-handed. Isabelle, holding Lily on her lap, smiled softly. “Seriously, Annie… you’re part of the family. No take-backs.”
Sage laughed and pulled Annie into a tight hug, rubbing her back as the smaller woman trembled. Ethan tugged at Sage’s sweater, bouncing on his toes. “Auntie Sage? Auntie Sage? Can I open a gift now?”
Everyone laughed. Cal, who took up most of the enormous couch as usual, rumbled with a grin, “You bet, bud. Auntie Isabelle will hand them out.”
Ethan flashed a gap-toothed smile. “Cool, Uncle Bear!”
Cal looked at Sage, and the heat in that look made her want to drag him upstairs for her own private Christmas memory right then and there.
Ooooh, I’m going to get you, Cal… I see you looking at my ass, baby.
She was having a hard time not staring. He’d changed into a dark green henley that stretched deliciously across his broad chest and thick, powerful arms in ways that made her pulse stutter and her thighs press together. One muscular arm was stretched lazily along the back of the cushions in that silent, unmistakable invitation: this spot is yours, princess.
Sage didn’t hesitate.
She crossed the room and folded herself into his side without breaking stride, tucking her feet up under her and letting his heavy arm settle around her shoulders like it had been made for exactly that purpose.
Which, she was certain, it had.
His thumb brushed once, slow and warm, against her shoulder as he pulled her closer and sipped his ridiculous hot chocolate. She pressed her face into his chest for a heartbeat, breathing him in — cedar, pine, and that deep, comforting scent that was purely Cal.
Mmm… God, I love you.
“Okay,” Isabelle announced, clapping her hands once like a general calling order. “Let’s get this part started!”
The room cheered.
Mary Sue went first, the way she did everything — quietly, without fanfare, with that gentle grace of someone who understood the best things in life never needed announcing.
She handed Isabelle a thick, hand-knitted blanket in deep burgundy and cream, soft enough to drown in. Isabelle stood up slowly, eyes wide with shock.
“Mary Sue! This is the one you were knitting last week when Sage and I stayed over!” She turned to Sage, still half-wrapped in Cal’s arms. “Remember? I kept going on about how soft it was—”
Sage unwound from Cal’s warm embrace just enough to lean forward, counting silently in her head.
Three… two… one…
SMACK.
