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Michael, who has been in the kitchen busily prepping something, as if the buffet actually needs any more food, comes into the family room. He’s wearing a Christmas apron that says “Cookie Crew,” the irony of which is not lost on me. He sets a platter down on the straining sideboard.
“It’s both your faults,” he says, leaning over to tickle Braydon Junior on the cheek, then kisses Danielle on the top of the head before returning to the kitchen.
Michael told us we could feel comfortable around his family touching Danielle, as long as it is respectful affection, and not overtly sexual. A hand on the small of the back is cool, but no ass pats. I think that’s fair for a family gathering. No one has asked us much about our relationship. They seem to accept it for what it is, and I appreciate that tremendously.
Danielle stands up with the baby and smooths down the green dress she’s wearing. She comes over and faces Braydon out, bouncing him in front of me. “Do you want to hold the baby?”
“Uh…”
No. The answer is no. I’ve only held a baby maybe twice in my life, and both times they cried. But it seems rude to refuse. “I guess, but only if he wants me to.”
Danielle laughs. “Just put your arms around him when I set him on your lap.”
I’m mildly panicking. My back stiffens, and I hold my breath when she puts the baby down, facing me. I put one arm around his back and put my opposite hand squarely on his waist, terrified he’ll topple onto the floor. In spite of my nerves, Braydon smiles at me, drool slipping down his chin.
Damn. This kid instantly owns me.
“He’s very cute,” I say to Becca.
“Thank you,” Braydon Senior calls out. “I did that.”
Becca snorts.
Braydon Junior and I check each other out. He stares at me with big brown eyes, and something shifts and cracks inside me. He’s freaking adorable. I relax a little and start to make faces at him. “Hey, little man. Do you like hockey?”
He grins at me and gives me a sweet little coo.
“Definitely likes hockey,” I report, glancing up at Danielle.
The look on her face makes me fall in love with her all over again. She’s beaming watching the baby. There is so much love in her that she’s glowing with it. I didn’t think she could be any more beautiful than she already is, but seeing her joy at being here, on Christmas, with us and Michael’s welcoming family, watching me hold a little chubby baby, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more radiant.
Our eyes lock, and I try to convey everything that I feel for her, for us, for this moment. Her eyes widen, and her bottom lip drops so her mouth forms a perfect “o.”
“Wow,” Tonya says, which snaps me out of it.
I glance over at her, then quickly back at the baby when I see Tonya’s amusement. My heart is racing. Braydon raises his arms up and down.
“I think Dani’s plan worked perfectly,” Tonya said.
I frown. “What plan?”
She chuckles. “A woman doesn’t hand her man a baby unless she has plans.”
Instantly, I’m lifting the baby and shoving him back into Danielle’s arms. I jump off the sofa and narrowly miss kicking over the coffee mug I set on the floor.
“Nathan,” Danielle says, concern in her voice.
“Did I say something wrong?” Tonya asks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” I tell Tonya. “I just need a coffee warmer.” I grab the mug off the floor.
I give Danielle a tight smile to let her know it’s okay and make my way into the kitchen. Instinctively, I seek out Michael as I set my mug down on the counter. He’s become my emotional touchstone. True to form, he reaches out and claps me on the shoulder.
“Here.” He puts an oven mitt in my hand. “Pull the au gratin potatoes out of the oven for me.”
While I yank open the oven door, he moves in next to me under the guise of stirring a pot on the stove. “I’m sorry about that. You okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine.” I lift the heavy casserole dish and set it on the stove.
