A Very Daddy Christmas (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Chapter 23

23

Cora

C hristmas Eve is quieter than usual, making my shoulders feel heavy and my stomach tight as I wait for each hour to pass until December twenty-fifth. It’ll be the end of our turmoil. It’ll mean that Orson’s attempt to kick us out of the building did not work, and that we will, in fact, become the new owners of the building.

“I thought this day would never come,” I say, bringing a cup of hot chocolate to my lips.

“It’s almost done,” Sebastian replies. “Just a few more hours.”

We’re in the living room, gazing upon the Christmas tree. The guys enlisted Dario’s help to decorate it earlier in the week, and the final result is uniquely beautiful. Red and gold baubles against the balsam fir’s deep green foliage. Golden cones and red velvet ribbons flowing everywhere. Soft amber lights and white glass snowflakes. An angel sits atop the tree, clad in beige and gold, his wings spread out, his aura shining beneath the chandelier’s subtle glow.

Looking at the tree comforts me, giving me much needed peace, even though my most destructive thoughts return with a vengeance whenever I look away.

“I know you’re trying to keep my spirits up, and I do appreciate it, babe. But admit it, you’re as terrified as I am of the other possibility,” I say, nestling in his arms.

A Christmas-themed movie plays on TV, but no one’s paying attention. We can hear Riggs and Waylan laughing in the kitchen, along with Dario’s voice as he keeps asking for salted caramel popcorn.

“We’re not making that tonight,” Waylan reminds him. “We’re saving that for Christmas Day, okay buddy?”

“Besides, Cora brought all those salty and sweet treats from the bakery,” Riggs says.

“But I wanted the popcorn,” Dario keeps protesting.

I can’t help but laugh. “One of them will cave in eventually.”

“My money’s on Waylan. He cannot resist those puppy eyes,” Sebastian mutters. “You’re right about being scared, though. I’m scared for you and for Eva because I know how badly you want that building. I also know you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” I plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “That means the world to me.”

I hear a cupboard door opening. “Fine!” Waylan exclaims. “One bag. And we’re sharing.”

“Yay!” Dario cheers, prompting both Sebastian and I to snicker amongst ourselves.

“Called it,” Sebastian says, then checks his watch again. “Four more hours.”

Four more hours until the escrow expires. It might as well be four more years at this point. Four more centuries. Until the deadline comes and goes, I cannot focus on anything else. And I have plenty to focus on.

Like the baby growing in my belly, for example. A baby I still need to tell my men about.

There’s also the issue of our relationship, of how we’re going to make it work with all these rumors going around and so much stacked against us. It’s only a matter of time before more nasty stories come out. Lord knows Hamilton and St. James aren’t done dragging our names through the mud.

“Do you think we’ll be safe?” I ask Sebastian.

“Safe? You mean, after midnight tonight? Yeah, most likely. St. James won’t be able to do anything else from a legal point of view. And I’m guessing Denaro already has a bone to pick with him. Both he and Hamilton will be too busy trying to survive Denaro’s wrath to waste any more time and resources on making you miserable.”

“Gosh, that sounds like a dreamy scenario. Not that I take pleasure in the suffering of others, but—”

“Oh, no, please, do take pleasure in the suffering of Orson St. James and George Hamilton. I will personally open a bottle of Veuve to celebrate their downfall. That, I can promise you.”

The living room suddenly becomes delightfully crowded as Waylan, Riggs, and Dario join us in front of the TV, one large bowl of salted caramel popcorn between us. As expected, Dario only manages to nibble on a few kernels before he falls asleep in Waylan’s arms. It’s been a long day, the excitement of Christmas morning taking its toll.

“Out like a light,” Riggs chuckles as he looks over.

Waylan nods, lovingly gazing down at Dario, his hopefully soon-to-be adopted son. They’ve already filed the paperwork, and we’re breathlessly waiting for it to go through and for the judge to sign off on it. There’s still a chance of objection, especially if our relationship is made public.

Rumors don’t count, Waylan’s lawyer assured us. Facts, however, can poison the well.

Sebastian takes a deep breath, nervously glancing at the wrapped presents under the tree. “Why don’t we introduce Cora to our yearly Christmas tradition? It will take our minds off of the time, waiting for midnight to arrive,” he says.

“We’re just a couple of hours away,” Waylan replies. “Let me take the big boy upstairs first.”

“Don’t forget to turn the monitor on,” I lovingly remind him. “We want to hear him if he wakes up.”

Waylan smiles softly. “Will do. Though I don’t think he’ll be up until early morning.”

“He’ll be up early, for sure. He’s waiting for Santa,” Riggs says.

When Waylan gets back, we gather around the Christmas tree. For a moment, I allow the twinkling lights to mesmerize me, color dancing through the glass and porcelain ornaments while specks of gold catch my eyes from every angle. It’s so beautiful and majestic, like something out of a Christmas-themed movie.

“So, what we do every year on Christmas Eve,” Sebastian begins, “is open one present each and leave the rest for tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” I reply.

He smiles and gives me one of the smaller boxes, wrapped in a luscious chocolate-brown paper tied with gold-brushed twine and white ribbons. My name is written on the tear-shaped paper tag with swirling black letters. “This one’s yours, from me.”

“Thank you,” I say and proceed to open it while the guys watch me with tenderness and quiet enthusiasm. Inside the box, I find a strange-looking bowl made of clay, covered in a turquoise glaze. Its edges are uneven, and there are deep streaks along the sides, where the glaze turns a deeper, darker shade. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “What… um, what is it supposed to be? Like, a catchall?”

Sebastian blinks a few times, slightly flustered. “It’s supposed to be a soup bowl.”

“Supposed to be?” Riggs holds back a hearty laugh.

“Don’t be mean. Remember what you made for her,” Waylan cuts in.

“Made for me?” I gasp, then look at the bowl again. “Hold on, you made this, Sebastian?”

He nods slowly. “You’ve been droning on about how expensive the gifts are that we give you, so we figured we’d do something a little different for Christmas. We decided to give you things we made with our hands.”

“This is beautiful and so thoughtful. Thank you. I love it.”

“You do?” He sounds surprised.

“Of course,” I quip. “You took time and energy to make something for me. It means the world.”

Sebastian shrugs slightly, smiling like the shiest little boy, then gives Riggs a nudge. “Go on, your turn.”

“I’m going to own Christmas Eve with this,” Riggs declares and gives me a smaller box. It’s white and wrapped in golden ribbons that feature silvery snowflake motifs. “You’re going to love it.”

“I already do,” I sigh, staring at the box before I open it to reveal a pretty little keychain made from porcelain. It’s shaped like a rudimentary snowflake, its edges and tips painted in gold. “Oh, Riggs… it’s wonderful.”

“And classy.”

Waylan gives me his present next. “Classy my ass,” he grumbles. “You damn near torched the lady’s workshop because you couldn’t figure out the baking times. It looks better than your first six attempts, though, I’ll give you that.” He then smiles at me. “From me to you, babe.”

“Thank you,” I smile back and unwrap my next present, removing the dark blue paper and silver ribbons. “Oh, wow.”

It’s a glass vase, dark green with streaks of yellow and orange swirling around its unevenly bloated base. It is clearly handmade, and not by an expert glassblower either. For a second, I can almost imagine Waylan blowing his lungs out to make this for me, and it fills my heart with a golden and warm wonderful light.

“Do you like it?” Waylan asks, clearly on the edge of his seat.

“It is so beautiful, Waylan, thank you. Thank all of you for such incredible gifts.” I burst into tears and they come closer, their arms wrapping around me as I plant soft and loving kisses on each of their rugged cheeks. “You guys are something else.”

“Honestly, I wanted to get you a new car, but you seem happier about our shoddy, handmade crap, so…” Sebastian jokes, prompting a hearty laugh from the rest of us.

I go to the tree and offer them three of the boxes from underneath—each neatly wrapped in emerald-green wrapping paper with gingerbread-man motifs tied with red and gold ribbons.

“These are for you. One for each,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to spring for something handmade and as thoughtful as what you’ve given me, but I’m sure the pies and the rest of my cooking for the holidays will count.”

“You bet your gorgeous ass they absolutely do count,” Waylan says, eagerly tearing the paper from his present.

“Oh, wow.” Riggs is the first to open his box. “Seriously… wow.”

Sebastian’s blue eyes widen with genuine surprise. “Cora, this is incredibly thoughtful of you, baby. It’s beautiful.”

They’re fawning over hand-sewn ties I had custom-made for them at their favorite shop, and they recognize the fine silk.

Sebastian pulls me into a kiss, his lips pressed against mine for the longest minute. “Thank you, Cora. I can’t wait to wear it.”

“I know exactly when we’re going to wear these, too,” Riggs says, then kisses me.

Waylan kisses me next, hungry for more, his tongue wrestling mine before he pulls back.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Sebastian says and gives me another present. “This one’s a bonus.”

“For me?” I ask, staring at a white box.

It’s flat and bigger than the others, and I recognize the shape—clothes usually come wrapped in something like this. My heart flutters with excitement. They’ve already spoiled me in so many ways, I’m genuinely overwhelmed.

“Well, yeah. Did you really think we’d give you just the cheap but heartfelt stuff?” Riggs laughs lightly. “Come on, Cora, you know us better than that.”

With trembling fingers and a broad smile, I remove the pale pink satin ribbons and open the box to reveal a gorgeous lingerie set—a lacy bra, crotchless panties, and a beautiful babydoll with silky frills in dusty pink, pearl insets and silk thread.

“Goodness gracious,” I whisper, hooking my finger through the panties and lifting them up between us. “This is beyond naughty.”

“Worthy of our queen,” Waylan replies, the hunger persisting in his eyes.

“It’s for tomorrow night, after Christmas dinner,” Sebastian says.

“My gosh, it’s so beautiful.”

“Just like you,” Sebastian coos.

Maybe it’s just my heart that’s wildly hopeful, and maybe these are dangerous dreams I’m getting so drunk on, but it feels really good to let myself be cherished by these men.

I just hope it doesn’t all come crashing down around me when the clock strikes midnight.