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“Right in front,” I said, holding it for him to see.
Boone cradled my hand in his, and together, we hung the ornament at a spot for prime visibility. Then I stepped back, right into his arms, which slid around my stomach. He propped his chin on my shoulder, and I felt the traces of his scruff scratch my skin.
I placed my hands over his. “Now, we have a tree.”
“We do.”
My heart fluttered, and I didn’t want to wait a second longer. My fingers flattened over his, and I leaned my head against his.
“I’m glad,” I said, “because I have an early Christmas present for you.”
“Oh? Why not wait until Christmas?”
Nerves lodged in my throat, and the nausea that had been plaguing me during our entire adventure to find this tree twisted in my stomach. I muscled it down and turned in his arms.
“Because I think you’re going to start wondering why I’m not feeling all that great right now.”
Boone blinked. His gaze flicked down my body and back to my face again. “You’re not…”
I placed a hand on my stomach, feeling nerves twinkling over me just as much as the colored lights on our tree behind him.
“I’m feeling sick,” I said. “Your aunt loaned me this book about it. They tell me the nausea will last the first few months…”
Boone brushed my hair away from my shoulders. “Grace, are you trying to tell me you’re expecting?”
I grinned, loving the delight dawning on his face. “We won’t be able to wrap his or her presents since whoever this baby is won’t be born until July. But?—”
I didn’t get the chance to finish. Boone gathered me in his arms and spun me in a circle. Which would have been romantic any other time, but it only served to stir the unease in my stomach.
I may or may not have dry heaved. Not really the romantic celebration I’d been hoping for.
“Sorry,” he said, stroking my face. “I’m…this is amazing. You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said, pressing a hand to my mouth.
“Do you need…? Can I get you anything?”
I closed my eyes. “I think it’ll pass.”
Boone held me as I rested my forehead against his collarbone. I breathed him in, and he rubbed my back. Sure enough, the stirring in my stomach eased once more.
He pressed his lips to mine. Then, with a sense of curiosity in his eyes, Boone sank to his knees in front of me. He placed his hands on my stomach, staring at it. Then, with his hands on my waist, his eyes trailed up to me.
I went weak in the knees. He’d knelt like this when he’d asked me to marry him only a few months after I’d come to work at the inn, but having him kneel before me again now, held a newfound sense of wonder.
Carefully, intentionally, he leaned in and placed a kiss on my stomach. The heat of his breath stirred through my body, making me shudder. I rested my hands on his shoulders.
“I love you,” he said. “And if I ever meet Santa, I’m thanking him for just how much he and that stupid radio have given me.”
I laughed, and at the pronouncement, a tinkling chime I never thought I’d hear again coursed through the room.
“Grace,” he said, rising to his feet and glancing around.
“Did you hear that?” I asked, placing a hand on his abs.
He glanced around. “I thought it was done with us. We have our happily ever after.”
“Then…” I peered at the fireplace, wondering if the sound had come from there since, according to the stories, fireplaces were Santa’s typical point of entry.
