Page 78 of Santa Baby

“Uh huh.” I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Is she of good breeding, a championship line, perhaps? Are we talking about a purebred dog or your future wife?” She pulled the door open, and a new room was revealed, bright lights flickering to life. Jewelry glittered in a display. Bank boxes were stacked neatly on shelves. Mom even kept some of her favorite purses in here, which I found kind of silly, but I knew very little about handbags.

“She’s brilliant. She makes me laugh. She’s funny, easygoing, and loving. I feel like I’m able to be myself around her. I’ve felt like that from the very beginning and I can’t—” I sucked in a breath as she pulled a small, pale green ring box out of the display and set it on the table, her eyes meeting mine. “I don’t see a future without her in it.”

Mom’s mouth ticked into a smile. “She sounds lovely, sweetheart. Does she look good in emeralds, perhaps?”

“She’d look beautiful in anything.” There it was. The family engagement ring. A stunning, priceless emerald surrounded by diamonds totaling at least four carats. It had been my grandmother’s ring, and she passed it down to my mother.

“Are you sure?” she asked, holding my gaze.

“You should say what you need to say to me.” I tucked my hands in my pockets and prepared for the third degree, but it never came.

“You O’Leary men are so stubborn and thickheaded.”

I arched a brow, and she laughed, walking back to the display and pulling out the matching earrings. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Your father. Well, let’s just say his father gave him the same treatment he’s giving you. You know how your grandparents came here with nothing. You know the story as it was told to you, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, your grandfather came here with very little but your grandmother is the reason our family ended up as privileged as we are. She was an heiress. Her parents disagreed with her decision to run away with your grandfather⁠—”

“She ran away?”

“Oh, yes. It was a big scandal.” She smoothed her fingers over the emerald earrings. “History repeated itself with me and your father, although I wasn’t necessarily an heiress. But my parents weren’t happy I’d chosen to marry into new money.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Dad has been so hard on me about my business, and now about Fia.”

“I know.” She sighed, walking toward me with the jewelry. “He had to pave his own path. It was hard for him, for both of us. He just wants what’s best for you, even if he doesn’t realize the way he’s going about it is exactly how his own father treated him when he decided to get out of the family oil business and go follow his own dreams on Wall Street, marrying a socialite.” She smirked. “And now you’re following your dreams, marrying someone you love.”

Love. The word rang through the room.

“I do love her.”

“I know. I can hear it in the way you talk about her.” She closed my hand around the ring box. “We’ve always married for love in this family. I wasn’t going to let you break that cycle. Your relationship with your future children?” She shrugged her shoulders. “One day, you’ll be old and grouchy like your dad, so I can’t do much about that.”

“I think this goes beyond him being grouchy.”

“Decide that tomorrow night,” she replied, patting me on the arm. “It’s Christmas, after all. I think you’ve both been looking at these issues between the two of you too deeply.”

I heaved a breath, my feet still planted as she started to leave the room. “Mom, are you sure you don’t need to tell me to get a prenup or something, anything⁠—”

“Do you have doubts about her?”

“No,” I said without hesitation.

“Then I trust you. I’m so excited to finally meet her tomorrow. I think your dad is excited to see her, too.”

I couldn’t help but let out a choked, disbelieving laugh. “Did he tell you that?”

“He feels bad for what he said. He told me all about it. Come on, Maria just made ginger snaps. I’ll have her make some coffee to go with them. Spend some time with your old mother.”

I tucked the ring in my pocket and nodded. “I could never say no to a good ginger snap.”

33

FIA

My parents’ house smelled like Christmas, as well as the impending family feast that would be taking place tomorrow. Preparations were well under way for the endless list of dishes, and all kinds of clashing scents warred for dominance.

I rolled over on my side on the old floral-print couch, tucking my fist under my chin as I scrolled through my phone. I could hear Colin and Dad arguing about the baccala out on the porch, where Dad had been submerging the dried fish in salt water for days now. Mom was busy in the kitchen, working on her famous sauce for the pasta dishes, while chatting happily on the phone with what I assumed were my aunts.

I should have been enjoying the quiet while it lasted. This time tomorrow, the house would be full to the brim with family—everyone talking as loud as they possibly could, fueled by wine and whatever my crazy uncles brought to sip on.