Faking It with My Bossy Ex (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

Bonus Epilogue

Dylan

Five Years Later

“Daddy! Daddy, catch me!”

I barely have time to brace myself before a tiny bundle of energy launches into my arms. Emma's dark curls are escaping her winter hat, her green eyes, so much like her mother's, sparkling with mischief.

“Careful, princess.” I swing our three-year-old onto my hip. “Remember what Mommy said about jumping on the ice?”

“That it's dangerous and silly.” Emma pouts, then brightens. “Like when you fell showing off for Mommy!”

A laugh rings out behind us. “I see someone's been telling stories again.” Amy glides over, as graceful on ice skates now as she was that first night we reunited. The glow of the lamppost catches the snowflakes in her hair, and my breath catches just like it did back then.

Five years of marriage, and she still takes my breath away.

“I was merely providing our daughter with important historical context about how her parents fell in love.” I grin as Amy rolls her eyes.

“Is that what you call showing off your backward skating and landing on your butt?”

“It worked, didn't it?” I pull her close with my free arm, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You married me.”

“Eww, kissing!” Emma wiggles to get down. “I want to skate with Uncle Tyler!”

Sure enough, Tyler is waiting at the edge of the pond, ready to help Emma practice her wobbly skating. He's gotten pretty good with kids since he and Laura got married last year. Who would've thought my brother-in-law would end up marrying my wife's best friend?

“Be careful with my niece!” Jake calls from where he's setting up the Christmas Couples Contest registration table. After Mrs. Parker retired, she insisted we take over running the contest. Said something about “keeping the romance alive in Snowfall Springs.”

Once Emma is safely with Tyler, I turn back to Amy. There's something different about her smile tonight. She's been like this all week, ever since we arrived at our Snowfall Springs vacation home for the holidays.

“Alright, spill it.” I pull her closer, our skates gliding in sync. “You've got that look.”

“What look?”

“The same look you had when you convinced me to let Emma paint my office.” I narrow my eyes playfully. “Should I be worried?”

Amy laughs, the sound echoing across the pond. “Actually …” She takes my hands, placing them on her stomach. “I was thinking we might need to convert your home office into another nursery.”

My heart stops. Restarts. “Are you …?”

She nods, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Eight weeks. I wanted to wait until we were here to tell you. Where it all began.”

Joy explodes in my chest. I lift her off her feet, spinning us in a circle as she laughs. “We're having another baby!”

“Shh!” She presses a finger to my lips, giggling. “I haven't told anyone else yet. I thought maybe we could announce it at the contest tonight? Emma's been begging to be part of it anyway.”

“Sneaky.” I kiss her finger, then her lips. “I love it. And I love you.”

“Even though I'm probably going to build an even bigger pillow wall this time?”

“The wall is tradition now.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Besides, you always let me past it eventually.”

She smacks my chest, but her smile is radiant. “You're impossible.”

“That's why you love me.”

Over by the registration table, Emma is showing Jake her newest twirl. Our family has grown in ways I never imagined possible that snowy night when my car first passed Amy's broken down Corolla.

Now we have a home in New York and one here in Snowfall Springs. Amy's art gallery is thriving, and the community center we helped build runs programs year-round.

But the best part? Every night, I get to come home to the love of my life. Sometimes there's a pillow wall. Sometimes there's paint in my hair because Emma inherited her mother's artistic streak. Always, there's love.

“What are you thinking about?” Amy asks softly.

“How lucky I am.” I brush a snowflake from her cheek. “How perfectly imperfect our story is.”

“Well,” she smirks, “it's about to get even more perfect. Your daughter just convinced Jake to let her judge the kissing portion of tonight's contest.”

I groan, watching Emma demonstrate her idea of a “proper” kiss, complete with exaggerated fish faces to a highly amused Tyler. “Think we can still win with a three-year-old judge?”

“Please.” Amy's eyes sparkle. “We're the reigning champions. Besides,” she pulls me down for a kiss that makes me forget about the cold, “we've had plenty of practice.”

Later, when we announce our news during the contest, Emma steals the show by declaring she's “getting a baby for Christmas.” The crowd cheers, our family cries, and I hold my wife close as the stars twinkle above our little pond.

This is what happily ever after looks like. Not perfect, but perfectly us. A love story written in two parts, sealed with a kiss, and growing bigger every day.

And maybe, just maybe, our new little one will inherit their mother's ability to see the best in people, and their father's appreciation for a well built pillow wall.