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Chapter 32
Extended Epilogue
Jacob
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean you won't cook?" Gabi stands in the kitchen staring at me, her green eyes wide with shock.
"I mean exactly that." I fix the sleeves of my collared shirt, leaning against the counter as I gaze at my beautiful girlfriend. "Babe. Everyone will be okay if dinner is just a little bit late."
"But it's Christmas Eve! And the caterer is late. We have a whole dinner planned and we're hosting your family. And..." She bites her lip, her dark hair spilling over the shoulder of her pretty red dress. "And..."
"And..." I prod.
She sighs. "Everyone likes your lasagna more than mine."
"Finally! A little honesty." I chuckle, crossing the room to wrap my arms around her waist. "Sweetheart, you don't have to impress anyone or try to outdo yourself with cooking. You're already amazing as a person and as a girlfriend."
"Oh please. Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Walker."
I smile and press a kiss to her lips before whispering against them, "But it gets me everywhere with you, Miss De Luca."
Gabi giggles and smacks my chest lightly before pulling away slightly and looking up at me with those gorgeous green eyes of hers.
"Fine." She huffs dramatically but then grins. "But only because you're right."
"As always."
She laughs, and I join in. Only this time, I'm not sure that I'm right. The caterer being late might be a sign that I'm not right at all.
Tonight is supposed to be magical. It has to be.
After dinner, I plan to propose to Gabi, and nothing—I mean nothing—is going to ruin that moment.
Except, of course, for the ring being in my suit jacket which is at the dry cleaners because I spilled red wine on it last night. But that's a minor detail.
In addition to the wail that is erupting from the living room.
Holding up a finger to Gabi, I head straight there.
The first thing I see is our little Chiara looking far too pleased with herself. Meanwhile, while her dear unprepared Uncle Gio stands in shock, the wet patch on his trousers beginning to spread.
"Chiara," I say firmly.
My six-month-old actually has the nerve to grin at me. She knows she's done something wrong.
Gio glances down at the damp spot as he continues to hold Chiara in his arms. "Mind telling Gabi that those cloth diapers are no match for your daughter's aim?"
"Where do you think she learned that aim?" I motion for him to follow me to the bathroom. "Though, I'm better at aiming pucks than piss. I'll teach her that next."
He rolls his eyes and hands Chiara over to me before heading off to clean himself up.
"I can't believe she's already starting to crawl," he says, referring to Chiara who is now attempting to wiggle out of my grasp.
"It feels like just yesterday Gabi and I were holding her for the first time," I reply as we both watch my daughter with adoration.
As I cradle little Chiara in my arms, her tiny fingers grasping at my shirt, Gio dabs a towel at his shirt and damp pants. "I gotta say, being an uncle is pretty awesome. I get all the fun without any of the responsibility."
I chuckle and shake my head, knowing that Gio will make an incredible father one day. "Just wait until you have your own kid. Then the real fun begins."
