Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I don’t know how long I’d been back asleep when there was a knock at my door. I was in that deep, floating sleep and wasn’t about to move, so I ignored it. Then, there was a second and third knock. Whoever was at the door wasn’t leaving, so I tossed the covers back and grumbled all the way into the living room.
I whipped the door open, and my heart stopped when I spotted Thatcher standing on my front steps with a cup of coffee in one hand and a Christmas tree in the other. An excited smile swept across his face as he said, “Good morning. You weren’t still sleeping, were ya?”
“Actually, I was.” I blinked and tried to clear the fog in my head so I could make sense of what I was seeing. “What’s all this?”
“Thanksgiving is over.” He stepped through the doorway and handed me the coffee he’d brought. “It’s time to get ready for Santa.”
I stood there in utter disbelief as Thatch carried the tree over to the corner of the room and started setting it up. I couldn’t believe it. Baylor and I had never had a big tree. We’d always made do with a plant or some tiny tree I’d picked up at the Dollar Store. But this one was tall and real and absolutely beautiful. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Ah, damn. Did I fuck up?” His brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I can take this…”
“No, not at all.” I had to fight back my tears as I told him, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I walked over and slipped my arms around him, hugging him tight. “So, you like it?”
“I love it.”
“Good.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’ve gotta get the rest of the stuff from the truck.”
“The rest?”
“Oh, we got all kinds of stuff. Ornaments, lights, candy canes, and even some donuts for Bay.”
He said it so casually, like it wasn’t the most thoughtful, heart-splitting thing anyone had ever done for us. A lump started to rise in my throat as I muttered, “Thatch…”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.” His eyes locked on mine. “But I wanted to.”
I heard Baylor’s little footsteps as she came up behind me, and it was impossible not to smile when she gasped, “It’s a t-ee!”
“That’s right, kiddo.” Thatch crouched down in front of her as he asked, “You want to help your mom and me decorate it?”
Baylor’s eyes grew wide as she turned to Laken and asked, “Can I?”
“You sure can, honey.”
“Alrighty, then.” Thatch stood and started for the door. “I’ll go grab the rest.”
I still hadn’t moved. I was still completely spellbound by the man who’d walked into my life like a storm and brought warmth and happiness along with him. And standing there, barefoot and half-awake, I realized something simple and terrifying and beautiful all at once.
I loved him.
It was a realization that scared me, but that didn’t make it any less true. Now I just had to figure out what to do about it.
Hours later, the tree was up and covered in ornaments. Bits of tinsel were stuck to the floor, and there was a light dusting of glitter everywhere. I might never get rid of it all, but I didn’t care. The tree couldn’t have been more perfect.
Thatcher and I were sitting on the sofa, catching our breath while we admired our hard work. It leaned a little to the left, and there were too many ornaments bunched together in a couple of places. That was Baylor’s handiwork, but no matter what it looked like, it was ours.
Baylor plopped down between us. She had a half-eaten donut in her hand, and she looked up at our tree like she couldn’t believe it was really ours. I couldn’t believe it either. Thatch stretched his arm along the back of the sofa as he said, “I think she looks pretty good.”
“It looks wonderful,” I added.
“It needs a star,” Baylor announced.
“We can get one later.”
I brushed a bit of frosting from her cheek, and she popped up and ran over to her toybox. She grabbed her colors and paper and got to work. I used the quiet moment to lean over to Thatch and ask, “You want to stay for dinner? We’re having Baylor’s favorite. Nuggets and mac-and-cheese.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I have to pass.” He grimaced. “I’ve got a shift tonight at the Vault.”
Some people might’ve held judgment about him working at a strip club. I didn’t. I understood better than anyone that a job is a job, and you have to find a way to make the best of it. It wasn’t always easy at the hotel, but I managed. And I figured the same held true for him. At the same time, I hated that he couldn’t stay.