Cinnamon and sugar filled the air. Eledon chuckled. His wife loved Christmas, and he adored his wife.

He found Katie standing at the sink. “Hey.”

She gave him an I-will-devour-you smile placed a plate in the dishwasher and held her finger up in the one minute sign.

He raised an eyebrow. He’d been gone all day. Why did something else have her attention? An incessant beeping started and Katie’s three-inch heels clicked across the tile as she crossed to turn the oven off. She grabbed a pot holder and bent. He enjoyed the view. She pulled out a sheet of Christmas cookies and set them on the counter before closing the oven door. Then his wife turned to face him, and there was that I-will-devour-you smile again. Ha. Now he had her attention.

He held his arms out. She clicked-clicked back across the kitchen to step into his hold. “How was your day?”

He pulled her closer to him. “Better now.” He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Those shoes can’t be comfortable for cooking.”

“Hey. I live on a farm—a farm. Because you like green, and not the kind with Benjamin Franklins on it, and the cost of living is lower. I get to keep my red-soled shoes. That was the deal, and I don’t have flats.”

He grinned. “Dr. Plastic Nails, you maintained your white-tipped fingers, and your thirty-five minute drive from Nicole and her brood. I quit floating around on my boat. A beach climate was the least you could agree to.”

“I agreed to red-soled shoes.”

What could he say? When he proposed, he had promised those damn shoes.

He picked her up like a bride on her wedding night. It was the day before their anniversary after all. “I’m taking you to bed.”

Katie laughed. “And if Neveah wakes up?”

“I’ll lock the door. I still can’t believe I let you name her that.”

“Oh, be quiet. It’s no stranger than Aladdin.”

He leaned his head down and nibbled her neck. “You’ll do penance for that one.”

“Reason number sixty-five real husbands are better,” she purred.

“When I’m done with you, there will only be one reason real husbands are better.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

He promised with his mouth on hers.

Hours later, morning had arrived. They awoke to a screaming little voice and a thud at their bedroom door. “Let me in!” The thuds came in a measured rhythm now. “It’s a bing.” Thud. “It’s a bong.” Thud. “It’s a boom, boom, boom.” Thud, thud, thud.

She pushed the blankets down and sat up to rise from the bed.

Eledon caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

“To keep that kid from knocking our door down. Get up old man. It’s Christmas”

“Happy anniversary,” he said.

Her face turned bright red. He loved that he still had such an effect on her.

“You too,” she said.

It tugged at his heart, when Katie threw the door open and picked their daughter up. The family moved to the living room and sat around an eight-foot tree with Tiffany-blue ornaments.

Eledon pointed to three professionally wrapped gifts tied together with ribbon. “Neveah, can you give those to mommy?”

Neveah got behind the bundle and pushed it toward her mother.

“We should start with the kid,” Katie said.

“We’ll start with my wife,” Eledon said.

She unwrapped the first box. He watched her face fall as she removed a pair of mom loafers, her face fell. He covered his face, so she wouldn’t see him laugh. Her brows knit as she inspected the leather quality, pulled at the sides, and finally flipped the shoes over to find an undeniable red streak. A crease of confusion ran down the middle of his wife’s forehead. He was enjoying this. Katie repeated the process when she opened a pair of breezy flats, and again with the fuzzy house shoes.

She re-inspected the shoes, looking for signs of a knock-off, while trying to find an explanation for the quality of the leather.

“They’re real,” Eledon said.

“Buitton’s only have red soles when they’re heels.”

“Not true. The flats came with red soles. If you’ll notice the other two pairs only have partly red soles.”

“But if they’re real, they wouldn’t be red.”

He shrugged. “Okay. I bought them in China Town.”

“But the leather is genuine.”

He shrugged.

“How did you do it?”

“I promised my wife red-soled shoes. A little money can solve most anything. They’re custom.”

“Reason number 115 real husbands are better than book boyfriends.”

“When is nap time?”

Katie blushed and kicked him.