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I wasn’t about to let him risk his friendship with Gabe when we likely were down to days left. I couldn’t protect him out there in the real world, where he confronted danger on a daily basis, but perhaps I could protect him from unnecessary best-friend awkwardness.
“Come in!” Paige called softly from her hospital bed when we appeared at the door. She was propped up by pillows with the head of the bed raised and held a small, tightly wrapped bundle in each arm. One bundle had a teeny blue cap while the other sported pink. “Meet Plum and Pine.”
“You went with holiday-themed names after all?” I smiled because the great twin name debate had spanned most of the fall. “I love them.”
“Can you believe I had almost twelve pounds of babies in me?” Paige grinned back. “The nursing staff is amazed at how strong the babies are. Getting twins almost to term is the real holiday miracle.”
“You’re the miracle, Paige,” Gabe said reverently from the chair beside the bed. He kept patting the closest baby as if reassuring himself she was still there. Aunt Lucy sat knitting in the window seat, which doubled as a visitor bed.
“Who wants to hold a baby?” Paige asked. “Mom is chomping at the bit to get pictures of you guys with them.”
“Him first.” Atlas wasted no time pointing at me.
“Well, come over here, Uncle Zeb.” Paige’s eyes twinkled. Stepping forward, I peered down at the little pink bundle. Scrunched up face. The barest hint of reddish hair escaping the cap. A little fist holding the edge of the blanket. “Plum, meet Uncle Zeb.”
“Sit here.” Standing, Gabe steered me into the big chair and placed Plum in my arms as if conducting a ceremonial exchange of priceless royal artifacts.
“Now that’s a perfect picture.” Aunt Lucy’s voice was tender, but I didn’t bother glancing up, totally mesmerized by the baby in my arms.
“Hi, Plum,” I whispered to the sleeping baby. “You, I, and Pine are gonna have some amazing adventures. Can’t wait till you’re old enough for board games.”
That got a chuckle from Atlas, who had moved to stand next to the chair. “At least wait until they’re a few days old. Maybe they make a Candyland for newborns?”
“Ha.” I met his gaze, which reflected back my own wonder at the moment and also my wistfulness. Of all the things I wanted and couldn’t have, being uncles together was at the top of the list. I wanted him along for all those adventures and game nights and sleepovers. I hated the idea of seeing him across the room at some future birthday party, memories of what had been hanging between us, all awkward pauses and long looks. I’d told him I wanted to pretend, and right then, I wanted to pretend all the way until spring. Hell, make that spring fifty years in the future.
“And one for you.” Plucking Pine from his spot next to Paige, Aunt Lucy arranged the baby in Atlas’s arms. She moved away to take photos of the two of us, but I didn’t smile or pose for the camera. Instead, my gaze flitted between the two babies and Atlas’s stunned face. His big hands made Pine look impossibly tiny, yet the gentleness in his posture gave an air of security. Atlas might be strong, but he, too, was undone by these two tiny humans and overwhelmed by protective urges.
“Trade me places,” I said to him. “We need a picture of you with both babies.”
Or rather, I needed the picture, one to pull out and reflect on. After some careful maneuvering, Atlas sat in the chair, a baby in each arm and a look of pure amazement in his dark eyes. Like Aunt Lucy and Gabe, I snapped a few pictures, but I also tried to memorize the little details my camera phone couldn’t capture—the scent of baby powder in the air, the small movements of little hands wiggling free from their swaddling, the faint flush on Atlas’s neck, the twitch along his jawline, the way he gradually relaxed, rocking slightly in the chair, whispering something to the babies none of us could hear.
The moment lingered like a perfect bite of peppermint bark—layers of sweetness, one on top of the other. Long after we’d said goodnight to Paige and Gabe to let them rest, I kept seeing Atlas’s awestruck expression in my mind. I wanted to be the one to put that expression on his face again and again, stealing his breath and earning his adoration. Not that I was jealous of the babies, but their presence only made me yearn for that much more.
As Atlas and I trudged through the snow to the hotel two blocks south, where he’d lucked into rooms, all I could focus on was getting him alone, warming him up, and forgetting every damn thing other than how good we were together. I waited through the check-in process, but the second the elevator door closed on us, I was on him, snowy mittens, heavy coat, and all. I kissed the snowflakes dotting his eyebrows and nose along with each pink cheek before claiming his chilly lips in a white-hot kiss.
