Dad Bod Secret Santa (Dad Bod Christmas)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

HANK

S omehow, I’m up before Vivian on Christmas morning, giving me time to fix a pot of coffee before the Christmas whirlwind begins. I set out her gifts while my coffee brews, ensuring everything’s perfect for my girl. As I finish my first cup, I hear her feet thumping down the stairs. In an instant, she’s in the room, eyes wide and shining.

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” She throws herself at me, wrapping me in a hug that almost knocks me over. The pure, unadulterated love of my daughter is a miracle of joy.

“Merry Christmas, Viv,” I say, pouring my love into the hug I give her.

We exchange gifts, and I love watching her happiness as she opens everything. When she opens the necklace I got her, her smile could light up the whole of Heartland.

“Dad, I love it,” she says, holding it up to the light. “Thank you. This is the best Christmas.”

I smile, warmed by her happiness, but as she finishes opening her gifts, I feel a hint of longing.

I miss Maggie and Wendy. The cabin doesn’t feel as warm without them here, and my heart yearns to hold Maggie in my arms again. My gaze lingers on the empty spot beside me on the couch, where Maggie and I sat, and I can’t shake the thought that having her here would make this Christmas even better.

Vivian catches me staring into space. “So…can we invite Wendy and her mom over?”

Sometimes, it seems like Vivian can read my mind, but she’s a perceptive girl and knows my moods. “Well, don’t you think they probably have their own plans?” Christmas wasn’t something Maggie and I discussed, and I have no idea if she has plans with friends or if they’re driving to see family somewhere.

Vivian raises an eyebrow at me, a look so knowing it makes me uncomfortable. “Oh, come on, Dad. You know they’d want to be here. You know you want them to be here.”

Caught off guard, I can only manage a shrug. “Well, I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“Great!” she says, already reaching for the phone as if my approval were a mere formality. “Wendy’s probably awake by now.”

I shake my head, unable to hide a smile as I watch her eagerly wait for Wendy to answer the phone. She’s not wrong—having them here would be…well, it’d be perfect. And even though I’ve been telling myself that a little distance might help me figure out these feelings, the idea of seeing Maggie today makes me happy.

Vivian paces, phone to her ear, and I hear Wendy’s muffled laughter on the other end. The girls are giggling, and my curiosity spikes. I raise an eyebrow at Vivian, who pretends not to notice. But then her tone shifts, going soft and polite. It only takes a second to realize she’s talking to Maggie.

Anticipation tugs at my chest, and when Vivian walks over, holding the phone out to me, my pulse stumbles. “Maggie wants to talk to you,” she says, her eyes bright.

I take the phone, trying to sound casual. “Hey, Maggie. Merry Christmas.”

There’s a pause, and then I hear her voice, soft and warm, carrying that familiar smile I can picture so clearly. “Merry Christmas, Hank.” She hesitates, like she’s not quite sure how to say what’s on her mind, then continues. “The girls are pretty insistent that we spend Christmas together. That is, if you two don’t have other plans and it wouldn’t be an imposition. I do have a gift for you.”

My heart expands with adoration as I listen to her. Part of me loves how she’s shy but also forthright. It also touches me deeply that she has a gift for me. She owes me nothing, but I appreciate the gesture all the same.

“You two are more than welcome here, as I hope you know. Just bring yourselves—I have everything we need.”

The pause on the other end stretches a little longer, and I can almost see her smile. “Alright, then. We’ll see you soon.”

I hang up, and a weight I didn’t know I was holding is lifted. Vivian skips through the house, too thrilled to sit still.

Christmas just got better.

When I finally hear the crunch of tires on the gravel outside, I don’t think; I just move, opening the door before they even knock. There they are, standing on the porch with snowflakes dusting their hair, arms full of packages, cheeks rosy from the cold. The sight of them fills me with joy.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face as I take them in. “Come on in.” I step aside to let them pass.

Wendy hurries past me to see Vivian. I hear them exchanging stories about their gifts and then exchanging gifts they got for each other. Maggie’s eyes meet mine, and for a second, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, suddenly feeling formal—like she and Wendy didn’t stay here for a week.

“I’m okay, thanks.” Her smile holds so much promise that my heart is ready to burst from how much I want her in my arms and permanently in my life.

“Here,” she says softly, holding out a box wrapped in simple, neat paper with a sprig of pine tucked under the ribbon. “This is for you.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” I give her a warm smile. “I have something for you, too.”

She gives me a quick, surprised smile, her eyes sparkling in the way they do when she’s caught off guard. “You didn’t have to.”

“Trust me,” I say, glancing down at the box. “I wanted to.”

We settle by the tree, the girls tearing into their gifts nearby, laughing and talking so fast I can barely understand them.

Carefully, I undo the ribbon and lift the lid, revealing a soft wool sweater in deep forest green with blue highlights. It’s the perfect gift.

“Do you like it?” Maggie asks, her voice tender, almost hesitant.

“Like it? Maggie, I love it. Thank you.” I pull it on over my shirt and it fits perfectly.

She watches me, relief softening her expression, an open tenderness in her eyes that makes my heart thump in my chest. “I’m glad,” she says quietly.

I nod toward the tree, getting up to retrieve her gift from my room. When I return, I hold out my gift to Maggie and watch as she opens it carefully. She gasps when she sees the jewelry box, her eyes glistening as she traces the carved lid of the box.

“Oh, Hank,” she says, her voice wavering. “This is too much. It’s so beautiful.”

I smile. “Nonsense. I made this for you, including carving the lid.”

“Oh, Hank,” she repeats, her gaze shifting from the box to me.

I’m about to tell her there’s more to it, that I wanted to make something that could contain whatever she holds dear, but before I can find the words, she stands and wraps her arms around me. Her face is close, so close, her breath brushing my cheek. Then she kisses me, a soft, tender kiss that grows bolder as I respond, pulling her closer, letting everything I feel for her pour into this moment.

Her lips taste like warmth and peppermint, and I lose myself in the softness of her mouth, in the way she fits against me like she belongs here. When we finally pull back, I can barely catch my breath, and from the look in her eyes, she feels it, too.

Holding her close, I murmur, “We need to be alone…”

She tilts her head, her smile playful, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Oh?”

But before I can say another word, Wendy skips over with a grin and hands me a small, red envelope. “Mom left this with your present,” she says innocently, glancing at Vivian and looking like she’s suppressing a giggle.

Maggie is clearly startled. She clears her throat, glancing at Wendy with a knowing look that only mothers and daughters share. “Oh, that’s…right.” Her cheeks pinken, but she doesn’t say anything as I open it.

I pull out the card inside. It’s simple, festive, and hand-signed, All my love, Maggie .

Maggie’s face softens, and she laughs a little, her eyes shy but unguarded. “I didn’t… that was an extra card. I didn’t mean to…”

“Maggie,” I say, closing the distance between us and reaching for her hands. “I feel the same way. In fact, I think it’s my favorite card.”

“I have another gift for you, Mom!” Wendy exclaims, and Maggie and I look at her.

Maggie regards her daughter. “What? I thought we exchanged everything at home?”

Maggie and Vivian share a conspiratorial look and giggle, and I don’t know what this gift is, but I have an idea about the meaning of the gift.

Wendy comes over and hands Maggie a slim package, wrapped in the shiniest of paper and covered in bows of various sizes.

Carefully, Maggie opens the box, then gasps. “Oh, Wendy.”

I look over and my heart thumps in my chest. It’s a print of one of the group photos Wendy took a few nights ago. In it, we look exactly as the family I so desperately want us to be. Maggie and I share a look, and it’s plain on her face that her reaction mirrors mine.

“Thank you, Wendy,” Maggie says, pressing the photo against her chest. “This is very sweet of you.”

“I agree with Maggie. That’s a fine picture.”

With our daughters giggling in the background, I gaze into Maggie’s green eyes and savor this moment. Christmas keeps getting better and better.