Dad Bod Secret Santa (Dad Bod Christmas)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

HANK

V ivian comes padding into the kitchen, her hair sticking up at odd angles, wearing the old, oversized hoodie I bought her years ago. She stretches, yawns, and gives me a sleepy smile.

“Smells amazing, Dad,” she says, eyeing the bacon. I can see her weighing the odds of grabbing a slice without me noticing.

“Hands off,” I warn her, though I smile fondly. She may be an aspiring bacon thief, but she’s a better kid than I thought possible, and I love her more than words can express. “Breakfast is for everyone. Let’s be patient, alright?”

She scrunches her nose at me, but I break off the smallest piece and hand it to her anyway. She grins and pops it into her mouth, quick as a flash.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, leaning against the counter to watch me cook. Her gaze lingers on the stovetop, watching the food cook, but I can tell there’s something on her mind. Vivian usually speaks her mind. “What’s with the breakfast spread?”

“It’s the weekend and almost Christmas, so I thought I’d go all out.” What I don’t say is that I’m deeply invested in impressing Maggie. I know she’s still holding back, but I want to show her I’m invested—and right now, that means cooking enough food for all the men on this mountain.

Vivian straightens, rubbing her hands together like she’s working herself up to say something. “Dad,” she begins, her voice soft, “I’ve liked having Wendy and her mom here.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye. I can tell she thinks she’s on uncertain ground.

Her words hang in the air, and my heart clenches in a way I haven’t felt in years. I clear my throat and ignore the sudden tightness in my chest. “Yeah? I guess it has been a nice change,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

“Not just nice , Dad,” she insists, her voice edging toward her annoyed tone. “Wendy’s like a sister, you know? We stay up talking about things I don’t usually get to talk about.”

I turn off the burner and set the spatula down, giving her my full attention. She’s watching me now, her eyes big and serious. My little girl—well, not so little anymore, but still so full of an openness that I hope she never loses with me.

It’s been so long since her mom was around that sometimes I forget there are things I can’t parent her on or provide the kind of insight she wants. Hell, insights she probably needs. Yet she rarely talks about her mom—or even wants to—so it’s not something I think about too much. But maybe I should.

“Yeah?” I manage, my voice coming out gruffer than I intended. “You really feel that way?”

Vivian nods, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I mean…it’s natural having them here. Like we’re a normal family, you know?”

The words send a pang through me. I look away, trying to mask the surge of emotion threatening to spill over. I want to tell her I’ve felt it, too—that having Maggie and Wendy around has filled this house with a warmth I didn’t think we’d have again. But I keep my voice steady, even though my heart is pounding.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” I finally say. “I am.”

Vivian tilts her head, giving me that searching look she has when she thinks I’m holding back. “Do you… I mean, do you miss Mom?”

The question catches me off guard, and I pause before I answer. She hasn’t asked me anything like this in years. It’s been just us for so long that I sometimes forget there’s a whole history she barely remembers. But I can’t lie to her.

“Honestly?” I clear my throat, buying a second to gather my thoughts. “No, Viv. I don’t miss having your mom around. Not in that way, at least. But…the way things have been with Maggie these last few days? You were too young to remember, but that’s not how it was with your mom. She always had this energy, like nothing and no one could tie her down. Your mom is nothing like Maggie.”

I smile, and my mind slips back to last night, with Maggie in my arms as we fooled around in front of the fireplace, trying to keep quiet so we didn’t disturb the girls. When Maggie lets her guard down, she’s the sexiest, most electrifying woman I’ve ever met. From the moment our girls became friends, I knew Maggie was special. But after getting to know her better and getting close to her? She’s more incredible than I ever imagined.

Her eyes light up, and I realize my mistake as she breaks into a smile.

“You like her, don’t you?” she asks, almost like it’s a revelation. “Like actually like her.”

“Now, don’t go reading too much into it,” I say, holding up a hand. “But yes, she’s nice.”

I keep saying nice, but the truth is so far from that word. I don’t even have the right words to say how I feel. Having Maggie and Wendy here has filled my heart with a peace I didn’t realize I was missing so badly. Life with Vivian has been great, but these past few days? My heart has expanded, and my goddamned soul has been revitalized. I didn’t recognize how much I missed having a woman in my life, not only for Vivian’s sake but for mine. I didn’t want to have a string of women coming in and out of Vivian’s life, but I realize I’ve been depriving myself and my daughter by avoiding a relationship.

That ends now.

Vivian shrugs, but she still has a little twinkle in her eye that makes me smile. “Well, I think you should like her,” she says, crossing her arms as if daring me to disagree. “She’s… she’s really nice. And she makes you smile. I mean, you’ve smiled more this week than you have in… a long time.”

I stare at her, the weight of her words settling over me. It’s true. With Maggie here, I’m a happier man.

“She makes you happy,” Vivian says, quieter this time. Her face softens, and she looks more mature than I’m used to.

“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out like a sigh. “Yeah, she does.”

Vivian steps closer, wrapping her arms around my waist. I hug her back, enjoying the steadiness of her presence. My girl—she’s the reason I’ve held on all these years, and the thought of giving her something more, a family with all the warmth and laughter we’ve missed…

“You’re enough for me, Dad,” she says into my chest, answering a question I’ve always been scared to ask. “Always have been. Always will be.”

I close my eyes, hugging my daughter so tightly that she giggles and squirms. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a smart, wonderful kid who loves me with such a pure, unshakable love.

I pull back, looking down at her. “Viv, I want you to know…whatever happens, you’re my number one, okay?”

She nods, grinning. “Good. And, you know, having Maggie and Wendy around is… fun. Feels like home. Maybe… I dunno, maybe we could… keep them?”

“That was an amazing breakfast, Hank,” Maggie says, clearing the plates. “I think I might need to nap from the food coma I feel coming on.”

I laugh and help her with the plates but frown when her phone buzzes. I don’t want to share her today.

Maggie pulls out her phone, her forehead creasing as she reads the screen. Then she lets out a soft, surprised laugh. “Oh. The power’s back.”

Her words land like a punch to my solar plexus. I nod slowly, forcing myself to swallow any reaction that might show the sudden drop in my stomach. “That’s…great news,” I manage, aiming for casual. My voice sounds foreign to my ears, like it’s coming from somewhere far away.

“Yeah,” she says, something distant in her tone.

She picks up one of the plates, and our fingers brush. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt through me, lighting up every nerve. For a split second, I allow myself to imagine a different conversation—one where I ask her to stay and make this cabin her home—our home—and where she leans into my touch and says yes.

But she pulls her hand back, and at that moment, the space between us feels wider than it ever has before, like last night was a fever dream. A small sigh escapes her, and she gives me a soft, almost apologetic smile. I watch her, hoping, searching for any sign that leaving isn’t what she wants.

My throat is tight, but I force the words out anyway. “So… I guess this means you want to go home tonight?”

The question echoes in the stillness, hanging between us like a fragile thread. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something there for a moment—a flicker of hesitation. But it’s gone too quickly to read, and I can’t be sure if I imagined it.

Maggie nods, but her gaze shifts away as she does, almost like she’s avoiding something. I want to ask her to stay. I want to lay it all out, tell her how much I’ve come to care for her and Wendy, how much I need them here. But the words stick in my throat, tangled up in fear and uncertainty. I don’t know if she wants this or if she feels the same. I don’t even know if she thinks last night meant anything beyond a cozy evening with too much toddy and Christmas lights.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her words hit me hard. I nod. I understand, but my chest tightens at the idea of her not being here.

“Thank you, Hank. For everything. You didn’t have to do all this,” she says softly, her voice full of gratitude that only makes the ache in my chest tighten. “I’m really… grateful.”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the words I want to say, the words that feel like they’re lodged somewhere deep, aching to come out. “It was… I’ll always be here for you, Maggie. Always.” My voice comes out rougher than I’d like, and I take a steadying breath, forcing myself to keep it together. “Anytime.”

Words fail me. But all I can seem to do is stand here like a fucking idiot, watching the woman I love get ready to leave.