Beautiful Storm (San Francisco End Game #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Luke

I ’m anxious every time I’m away from Amelia, but when I’m with her, I’m the picture of calm. I’ve done my research, so I know how serious preeclampsia can be, but I’m trying to stay positive. We caught it early. And Amelia’s been working hard to lower her blood pressure. She’s even had Adrian, her First AD, stepping up, just like she promised, putting me slightly at ease.

A couple of weeks pass and suddenly we’re a few days from Christmas and it’s been the last thing on my mind. But I have to buy presents or I’m going to have a lot of pissed-off people in my family. We may not spend much time together anymore, Lainey and me aside, but that’s always been our thing…presents. Only this year, I have no idea what to buy. My head’s been elsewhere.

So I enlist some help.

“Thank you, Lainey. It’s been a crazy few months, and I’ve only had enough head space to focus on Jelly Bean, Amelia, and football.”

“Jelly Bean, eh?” She bites back a smile as she bumps her shoulder into mine.

“Yes, Jelly Bean. Since we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, it was easier to give it a name.”

“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that you give the people you love nicknames.”

“I told you, I don’t do that. You and Amelia have them because you’re annoying.”

“Amelia has a nickname? Since when?” I sense her eyes burning a hole in the side of my head but I choose to ignore her, answering with a shrug.

“When, Luke? If you don’t answer me, I’ll ask her, which will make it a big deal and—”

“Alright, Jesus. Do sisters ever stop being annoying?”

“Nope. Why would we? It’s why you have siblings.”

I huff out a laugh as we enter a jewelry store, momentarily distracting Lainey as she gasps. “Are you buying Amelia a ring? Please tell me you are. Please, please.”

“No.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not giving her a ring for Christmas. Plus, we’re already married.”

“But you don’t have rings.”

“I’m not getting her a ring. We are here for that necklace Mom is always talking about.”

“The diamond one? The one she says is too expensive?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have any ideas.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to get this, but it will take longer to come up with another idea, and there’s only so much Lainey time I can handle.”

Lainey bursts out laughing, seeing right through my bullshit. “It’s guilt, isn’t it? For not telling her about Amelia and the baby.”

“Fine, yes. I’m full of guilt. Happy now?”

“Immensely. So when did you give Amelia the nickname?”

“Jesus. It was when we started middle school, but I’ve stopped using it because it wasn’t exactly a nice nickname. I used it when we weren’t friends.” We don’t need to get into Amelia’s other nickname right now. I've already said enough.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“No, I have plenty to say on the matter, but I don’t want you to walk off and leave me stranded here. I’ll dissect it with you on the way home.”

“You’re a dance therapist, Lainey, not a real one.”

“I know enough.” She shrugs, ending the conversation. Until later, apparently .

We spend the next hour bouncing from shop to shop, with Lainey providing me with so many ideas that I’m almost done before we’ve stopped for lunch. But when it’s time to get Amelia something, I stall.

“What about some piece of film memorabilia? Or you could do what Zac Efron did in that movie and pay to close out Universal Studios so you can take her to the backlot. I bet she’d love that. Hell, I’d love that and I’m not obsessed with movies. You need to suggest to Thomas that he should be that level romantic.”

“Isn’t he always?”

“Yeah.” She smiles lovingly and I almost joke about regretting my comment, but for the first time, I get it. I understand her loved-up persona. Because I feel it.

Lainey starts talking about Thomas’s dislike of the holidays as if he wasn’t my best friend growing up, and while I’d usually call her out on it, something she says resonates with me and I get an idea.

“I know what to get Amelia.”

Lainey pauses for a second as I catch her off guard and then she smiles. “Yes. Where are we going?”

“I’m dropping you at home. I’ve got some planning to do. Alone.”

“Booo. You’re no fun. Can you at least tell me what it is?”

“Nope. But I will tell you that yes, I gave Amelia a nickname because she was under my skin.” Lainey opens her mouth to argue so I quickly add, “But I must have cared about her more than I realized to have let her get to me. So maybe you’re right.”

“I knew it. What was the nickname?”

“Ding. Sorry, my therapy session is over.”

“Very funny,” she deadpans.

W hen Amelia declines my invitation for her to come to Christmas lunch for the third time, I finally accept it. She told me her mom stopped making an effort around the holidays after her dad left, so I wasn’t really expecting her to say yes. But while I was happy to respect her wishes when it came to my family, I wasn’t going to let her get away with not celebrating at all. It was going to be my present to her. She just didn’t know it.

“Are you staying at your parents’ place tonight?” she asks on Christmas Eve as she pulls the blanket up under her chin like a shield, comforting herself. “Or do you drive back in the morning?”

“Actually, I’m not going tonight. Christmas Eve got canceled.” I canceled it. Or, at least, I told them I wasn’t coming. That I was starting my own traditions. With my family.

“What do you mean it got canceled? When?”

“A couple of days ago. It doesn’t matter. But I’m going to need you to get dressed. We’re going out.”

Her eyes widen and she glances down at her protective shield. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Luke, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Is it?” I gasp, before hiding my face with my hands. “How did I not know that?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Get up. I promise this won’t be stressful, but if you don’t oblige, I’m going to have to force you.”

“Okay, Jesus.” She frowns as she flicks back the blanket to reveal she’s wearing a pair of plaid pajamas despite it being midafternoon. “I might be a little while.” She runs her hand through her messy hair and I can’t help but laugh.

“Take all the time you need.”

I make myself a sandwich while I wait, but it’s only about thirty minutes before Amelia speaks from behind me.

“I’m ready, sir.”

I turn loaded with a smirk, but she knocks me off my feet. Not literally but enough that I have to grab the stool beside me. Amelia is always beautiful—even in her plaid pajamas and messy hair, she was absolutely stunning. This isn’t about her physical beauty. At least, it’s not only about that. Rather she has a glow about her and a sparkle in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. She’s breathtaking in every sense of the word, and I find myself at a loss for what to say.

“You…I… Wow.”

“Thank you.” She giggles, and then because she can’t help herself, she adds, “Nice to see you got changed for the occasion.”

I bark out a laugh as I glance down at my ripped jeans and old sweater. But in my defense, I planned to get changed; I just thought she’d be longer. “I’m on it. You were faster than I thought you’d be.”

“I didn’t do much, and I wasn’t sure what we were doing. Should I—”

“You’re perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

Amelia smiles before turning away, and I swear the hint of a blush coats her cheeks. But that can’t be right? Surely I haven’t gotten under her skin like she has mine.

“I’ll be right back,” I say as I walk past, running my hand gently across her stomach in her fitted dress, loving the way she shivers when I release her.

After quickly throwing on a new pair of jeans and a fitted long-sleeve tee, I’m backdown the stairs before Amelia has her shoes on.

“Let’s do this,” I say, making her laugh.

“Do what exactly?” Her eyes narrow but I don’t miss the way they momentarily drop to my chest. I’m not stupid—I know this shirt shows off my muscles.

“We’re going to create our own Christmas traditions. I have a few options, or we can make up something completely different.”

Amelia bites back her smile. “Be careful or I’m going to get used to the romantic side of you.”

“Good, because he’s here to stay. So what do you think? Should we visit the Christmas displays? Find some carolers? Eat pudding? Can you eat that? I’m sure you can. Or we could-”

“Oh, I know.” Her eyes widen excitedly as she reaches out to grab my arm, sending a spark to my heart. This is what I wanted. This is what she deserves. To finally know she has a family that loves her. “Let’s try to find as many decorated trees as possible.”

I consider that for a beat before the idea excites me too. “I like it. Am I allowed to commission a private plane?”

“What?” Amelia laughs.

“I figured we could find more that way.”

“No.” She laughs louder. “We’re staying in San Francisco.”

“You’re no fun. But okay. I guess we can do that.”

She jokingly smacks my arm until I laugh again and then we’re on our way, in search of a great Christmas tradition. One I hope to do for years to come.

Whatever it takes .