A Very Braden Christmas by Melissa Foster (5)

THE CHILDREN CRAWLED all over the blankets and sleeping bags, playing with toys and anxiously awaiting cookies, chocolate milk, and the movie. The annual slumber party was one of Rex’s favorite family gatherings. The noise and craziness reminded him of when their mother was still alive. He was only eight when she died, but he’d never forget the way her positive energy used to light up a room. She would rearrange the furniture for the slumber party, and then rearrange it again in the middle of the festivities because something just didn’t feel right. She was all about energy flow and positivity, and she had the innate ability to quiet her rascally children with a single look, just like Hal could. Rex didn’t know how his parents had kept up with the six of them, but as his gaze drifted to his father sitting beside Treat on the couch, the gratitude and respect he felt for the man who had kept their family together at a time when he’d probably wanted to fall apart made his chest ache.

“Who ate all of the Christmas tree cookies?” Max asked as she came out of the kitchen with a trayful of crumbs, staring at Hugh and Dane.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Hugh said.

Max sighed. “You and Dane were the last ones in the kitchen.”

Rex’s eyes went straight to Little Hal, who was known for sneaking cookies, but Hal was looking around the room for the culprit, too. Rex heard a giggle come from behind the couch and stepped around it. He found Dylan and Christian shoving cookies into their mouths as fast as their hands would allow. Their pajamas were covered in crumbs.

They tipped their faces up, wide-eyed, mouths full of cookies, and red and green sugar on their lips, and said, “We didn’t do it.”

Laughter bubbled out before Rex could stop it. He took their arms and lifted them to their feet. “I think I found the culprits.” He gave them each a pat on their butts, nudging them toward their parents, and said, “Make ’em wash dishes for a week.”

“I’ve got better plans for them,” Max said. “Dylan Braden, get over here.”

“Why am I not surprised our son is involved?” Brianna eyed Hugh, who reached for Christian’s hand.

Josh laughed and said, “Because he’s Hugh’s son.”

Hugh glowered at him.

“I am yours, Daddy,” Christian said, spitting crumbs everywhere.

“You might not want to say that so proudly, little dude,” Dane said with a chuckle.

“You’re lucky we made several dozen other cookies,” Max said as she knelt beside Dylan. “You owe your cousins an apology for eating all those cookies, and tomorrow morning you are going to help with breakfast to make up for it.”

“Sorry for eating the cookies!” Dylan exclaimed, and then with a big grin he said, “Can me and Christian make rocket pancakes for breakfast? Remember when Charlotte made them?”

Max turned beet red, and all the adults tried—and failed—to hold in their laughter. Josh and Riley had gotten married at the Sterling House, the same location where Hal and their mother had gotten married. Though at the time the rustic inn had no longer functioned as a resort, the owner, Charlotte Sterling, an erotic romance writer, lived there. She was now engaged to their relative Beau Braden, and they were renovating the inn. But when Rex and his family had arrived for the weekend of the wedding, Charlotte was making pancakes in the shape of penises, acting out a scene she was crafting for one of her books. Thinking quickly, she’d told the kids they were rocket ships. From what Rex had heard, Charlotte still acted out the scenes she crafted, and things got a lot spicier than pancakes.

Max cleared her throat, glancing furtively at Treat, who pushed to his feet and said, “Come on, Dylan. Let’s go have a talk.”

“About rocket pancakes?” Dylan asked.

“About sharing and not being selfish,” Treat said as they left the room.

Hugh and Christian followed them out, passing Lacy and Riley, who were on their way into the living room with trays of sippy cups.

“The other cookies are ready to come out,” Lacy said as she set down the tray.

“I’ll get them,” Jade said, giving Rex a follow-me look as she headed into the kitchen.

His insides thrummed with desire. He knew his brothers thought they’d been going at it upstairs earlier, but they had it all wrong. Jade had just given birth to their beautiful baby girl a few weeks ago. She was tired, and her body wasn’t ready for their animalistic lovemaking. But they’d enjoyed every private second of lying in each other’s arms naked, kissing and snuggling without worrying about Little Hal barging in.

Rex headed for the kitchen, but Dane grabbed his arm, stopping him. Rex arched a brow and said, “Got a problem, bro?”

Amusement rose in Dane’s eyes. “If you go into that kitchen, you’ll end up in the bedroom with your wife again, and then we’ll have to wait to start the movie. And that’s not going to happen.”

Rex chuckled. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this year, anyway?”

“Mine,” Josh said from his perch on one of the recliners, where he was holding Abigail. “I choose Miracle on 34th Street. It’s a classic.”

“Actually, I think it’s mine,” Rex said. “We’re watching A Christmas Story.”

“I don’t think our kids need to hear about shooting their eyes out,” Dane said.

“Who shot their eyes out?” Adriana asked, starting a litany of questions.

As the adults fielded questions and told the kids about A Christmas Story, Jade and Lacy returned with trays of cookies and set them on the coffee table. The kids jumped up and down, gathering around to choose their treats.

“One for each hand, not five,” Lacy reminded them.

“But Dylan and Christian ate a whole tray!” Little Hal hollered.

“And they’re lucky we didn’t string them up by their feet,” Treat said as he and Dylan came into the living room.

Jade walked seductively to Rex and wrapped her arms around him. She pushed her hands into his back pockets, looking curiously up at him, and said, “You left me hanging for the first time in our adult lives. Should I be worried?”

“No, babe. Dane snagged me, and I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life.” He pressed his lips to hers, then whispered in her ear all the dirty things he’d like to do to her when she was ready.

“Oh my.” She fanned her face as his siblings argued over who was going to choose the movie.

“Um, no, sorry,” Savannah chimed in from her seat between Adam and Jack on a sleeping bag by the Christmas tree. “It’s my pick this year, and we’re watching It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“No way,” Dane said. “It’s my turn, and we’re spending Christmas with the Griswolds.”

Savannah groaned.

“That’s right. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, the best Christmas movie ever.” Dane flashed a cheesy smile at Savannah.

“How about Rudolph?” Brianna asked, rubbing her protruding belly.

Riley grabbed a cookie and said, “I can’t believe nobody has suggested Elf. There is no better Christmas movie.”

“No way. The Grinch rules.” Hugh piped in with, “Who votes for How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”

The kids began chanting, “Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”

Rex sat on the couch, pulled Jade down onto his lap, and said, “I don’t care what we watch as long as we don’t have to move.”

Treat stepped into the middle of the room with the air of authority he had long ago earned, which went beyond just being the eldest. It was Treat who made sure that each one of them remembered their mother. Savannah, Josh, and Hugh had been so young when she died, they had no real memories of her, but Treat filled them in every chance he got, telling endless stories that even Rex hadn’t remembered.

“This is my year,” Treat announced. “I brought the perfect movie, and I know we’ll all enjoy it. Why don’t the kids settle into their sleeping bags and blankets, and then we’ll get started.”

ONCE EVERYONE WAS settled, Treat dimmed the lights and took a seat beside his father, who was sitting in his leather recliner. Treat knew that particular chair had been their mother’s favorite before it had been their father’s. He put his hand on Hal’s forearm and said, “This is for you, Dad. Merry Christmas.”

The television screen above the fireplace came to life, and a panoramic video Treat had taken of his father’s property appeared. It began with the house where Hal and Adriana had started their lives together, the house where Treat and his siblings had been raised, and then the camera panned slowly to the woods beyond, which now led to Treat and Max’s house. It continued to the horse pastures where their mother used to ride, the mountains looming in the distance, where their family had spent countless hours hiking and horseback riding. And finally, the barns appeared and BECOMING BRADENS flashed on the screen.

“What is this?” Savannah asked with awe, and everyone shushed her.

Hal eyed Treat. “You made this?”

Treat nodded. He’d spent the last year going through their family photos to create this keepsake for his father, and for generations to come. He turned his eyes back to the movie so his father wouldn’t miss a second of it. A black-and-white picture of his parents taken the year they’d met, when his mother had been only fourteen, appeared on the screen. They were standing by the fence where they’d met on her father’s property. She was tall and slim with long hair and a smile that radiated off the screen. It was like looking at Savannah as a teenager. Their father had a mop of dark hair, and though he was only a teenager, he was already big and broad.

“Oh my God,” Savannah said. “Tissues, Jack. Quick.”

Jack got up, and Riley said, “For me, too, please.”

The other women asked for some, too, as the next picture of his parents appeared, both on horseback, leaning across the space between them, kissing.

“Is that Grandma?” Layla asked.

“It is, honey,” Hugh said, pulling her closer.

“She’s beautiful,” Layla said. “She looks just like you, Adriana. No wonder they named you after her.”

“Adriana looks like her,” Brianna corrected her. “And they’re both beautiful, just like you are.”

Adriana left her sleeping bag and went to Hal. “Can I sit on your lap, Grandpa?”

Hal patted his thigh, and she climbed up. He kissed her head and said, “Love you, darlin’.”

Treat heard the emotions Hal was holding back, and his own throat thickened. He’d always wished his siblings could have had more time to get to know their mother the way he had. He’d been nine when she fell ill and eleven when she’d died. And not a day passed that he didn’t find himself sending thoughts about his family up to her.

“I love you, too, Grandpa,” Adriana said as another picture of her late grandmother flashed on the screen. She was standing beneath a big tree, and Hal was down on one knee in front of her, presenting her with a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Oh, Daddy,” Savannah said tearfully. “You’re such a romantic.”

“And handsome,” Max said.

Hal didn’t say a word. His damp eyes were trained on the television as more pictures rolled through. There was a picture of Treat’s first Christmas, his mother smiling down at him in her arms, his father gazing at her, and a picture of Treat, Dane, and Rex as young boys sitting on the fence by the barn. There was one of Adriana holding baby Josh, with Savannah sitting beside her, while Treat, Rex, and Dane played with trucks nearby. The next was of Adriana lying on a blanket on the beach in front of the house on Cape Cod where they used to vacation, which Treat now owned. Treat and Rex were playing by the water in the distance. There were pictures of his father, broad and muscled, working with the horses and manning the barbecue with the kids nearby, and a photograph of Adriana sitting on Hope with her arms around Savannah, who couldn’t have been more than two years old.

“That’s Hope!” Dylan said.

“That means that was after she got sick,” Josh said softly.

“Right after,” Treat confirmed. Treat would never forget the heartbreak of watching his mother wither away right before their eyes—or his desperation to keep her alive.

More pictures appeared, photographs Treat remembered taking of his parents holding hands, kissing, and walking by the barn. He’d taken them with the camera his parents had bought him for his eighth birthday. He’d taken most of those pictures without their knowledge, though they’d found out as soon as they’d had the film developed.

The adults sniffled, making appreciative sounds, as the children called out comments like, “Look, there’s my dad!” “Is that Uncle Rex or Grandpa?” and “Look at those kids! They’re covered in mud!”

Treat, Rex, and Dane were in fact covered from head to toe in that picture. They’d gone down to a creek, even though their father had told them not to because it had been raining for days. They’d been covered in mud from the trek through the woods, and then Dane had gone into the water to clean off. Treat had gone after him, and then they’d all ended up in the water, laughing and wrestling. The walk home had also included a few muddy grappling matches. They’d all been grounded and given extra chores for what had felt like months after that little excursion, but it’d been worth it. Their mother had taken a turn for the worse by then, and they’d needed to work through their emotions.

The movie included small clips Treat had rescued from old reels his parents had taken, of birthday parties and holidays. Hearing his mother’s voice broke the dam on his sadness, even though he’d seen the movie a dozen or more times. But he wasn’t ashamed, and he let his tears fall, as did his siblings.

Hal reached over and squeezed Treat’s hand, tears sliding down his rugged, sun-kissed cheeks, a world of gratitude showing in his eyes, and then he returned his attention to the television, as their lives played out before them.

There was a clip of Adriana’s last Christmas. She had lost a lot of weight, and she was sitting in the recliner where Hal currently sat, bundled up in the quilt Hal still slept with. She was holding baby Hugh on her lap. Rex and Dane were shaking presents near the tree, and Savannah sat with a stuffed teddy bear in her lap. Treat stood beside his mother’s chair and said, “Put the presents down.”

Young Rex frowned and snapped, “You’re not the boss of me!” in a voice that sounded too deep for an eight-year-old boy.

Their mother laughed, as did everyone who was watching the movie. Treat remembered that day like it was yesterday, and he’d give anything to have it back.

The next image that appeared was of his mother lying in her bed a few days before she passed away, with her children beside her. She was smiling, and though she was gaunt, her skin ashen, and her body too frail to move, in her eyes was love as real as the world they lived in. There was no holding back tears for any of them.

Savannah buried her face in Jack’s chest, and Adam asked, “Why you crying, Mama?”

“I’m just happy to see my mom,” she said. “I feel her all around me.”

“Me too,” Rex said as the next picture appeared, of Hugh on his fifth birthday.

They were all gathered around the picnic table in the yard. Hugh was leaning over the cake, his cheeks puffed up to blow out the candles. Rex wore a cowboy hat, his thick black hair brushing his collar the same way he wore it today. Hugh, Savannah, and Josh wore pointy paper birthday hats. Treat stood beside Hope, who was also wearing a pointy paper hat because Hugh had insisted.

Little Hal jumped up and down and said, “Look at Hope’s hat!”

“That’s silly!” Finn said.

“I want Hope to wear a hat on my birthday!” Adam exclaimed.

“Is that Christian? Why wasn’t I at his party?” Dylan asked.

“No, buddy,” Treat said. “That’s his daddy’s fifth birthday party.”

More pictures appeared, of Rex as a burly teen training a horse, Hal dancing with seven-year-old Savannah at the Christmas barn dance, Josh’s high school graduation, and Dane with his first boat. The more pictures that appeared, the bigger Hal’s smile grew. He watched Savannah’s college graduation, Treat standing before the first resort he’d ever purchased, and more recent pictures, of weddings and grandbabies.

The second to last picture appeared, of Hal sitting in his recliner last Christmas, surrounded by all his grandchildren, and the girls awwed.

When the final picture appeared, of Hal and Adriana kissing on their wedding day, Hal’s cowboy hat tipping off his head, both of them smiling so brightly, Treat swore he felt a gust of warm wind move through the room.

Dane looked over, brows knitted. “Did you feel that?”

“Yeah,” Josh and Hugh said in unison.

“She’s with us, boys. She’s always with us,” Hal said as a thud sounded on the patio door, startling the girls.

They all looked over and saw Hope watching them through the glass.

“Oh no! Someone left Hope’s stall open,” Adriana said.

Treat and Hal exchanged a tearful smile.

“No, darlin’,” Hal said. “Hope just has a way of knowing when we need her most.”

Want More Bradens?

I hope you loved spending Christmas Eve with the Bradens. If this is your first Braden book, you might want to read each of the Bradens at Weston love stories, starting with the full-length novel , Treat and Max’s love story. All of my books may be enjoyed as stand-alone romances. Jump in at any time!

New to the Love in Bloom series?

The Love in Bloom big-family romance collection features several families. Characters from each series appear in future Love in Bloom books. Find free downloadable series reading order and publication order checklists, family trees, and more on .

TREAT BRADEN DIDN’T usually charter planes. It wasn’t his style to flash his wealth. But today he needed to be anywhere but his Nassau resort, and missing his commercial flight had just plain pissed him off. He owned upscale resorts all over the world, and he’d been featured on travel shows so many times that it turned his stomach to have to play those ridiculous media games. Most of the pomp and circumstance surrounding him had begun to irk him in ways that it never had before meeting Max Armstrong. It had been too many long, lonely weeks since he’d seen her standing in the lobby of his Nassau resort, since his heart first thundered in a way that threw him completely off-kilter—and since they’d spent one incredible evening together. Treat wasn’t a Neanderthal. He’d known he had no claim on her, even after their intimate evening. Hell, they hadn’t even slept together. But that hadn’t stopped his blood from boiling or kept him from acting like a jerk the next morning when he’d seen her with another man in front of the elevators, wearing the same clothes she’d had on when Treat had left her the night before.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Max since the moment he’d first met her, despite the uncomfortable encounter, but he’d been burned before, and he wasn’t into repeating his mistakes. Getting away from resorts altogether and spending a weekend with his father at his ranch in Weston, Colorado, a small ranch town with dusty streets, too many cowboy hats, and a main drag that had been built to replicate the Wild West, was just what he needed.

His rental SUV moved at a snail’s pace behind a line of traffic that was not at all typical for his hometown. It wasn’t until he crawled around the next curve and saw balloons and banners above the road announcing the annual Indie Film Festival that he realized what weekend it was. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with crowds.

His cell phone rang, and his sister’s name flashed on the screen. Savannah. Before he could say hello, she said, “I can’t believe you didn’t call me before you came out.”

“Hi, sis. I miss you, too.” The only girl among his five siblings, Savannah was a cutthroat entertainment attorney, but to Treat she’d always be his baby sister.

“You big oaf,” she said with a laugh. “I’m at the festival with a client. When will you get in?”

“I’m here now, sitting in traffic on Main Street.” He hadn’t moved an inch in five minutes.

“Yeah? Come to the festival and see me. I’ll wait for you at the rear entrance.”

All he really wanted to do was reach his father’s two-hundred-acre ranch just outside of town, but Treat knew that if he didn’t see Savannah right away, she’d be disappointed. Disappointing his siblings was something he strived not to do. Having lost their mother when Treat was only eleven and his youngest sibling, Hugh, had been hardly more than a baby, his siblings had already faced enough disappointment for one lifetime.

“You’re with a client. Sure you can get away?” he asked.

“Who are you kidding? For you? Of course. Besides, I’m with Connor Dean. He can handle things for a little while. Come in the back gate. I’ll wait there.” Connor was an actor who was quickly climbing the ranks of fame. Savannah had been his attorney for two years, and whenever he had a public engagement, he brought her along. It wasn’t a typical attorney-client relationship, but for all of Connor’s bravado, he’d been slandered one too many times. Savannah kept track of what was and wasn’t said at most events—by both Connor and the media.

“I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows.” After he ended the call with Savannah he called his father.

“Hey there, son.”

Hal’s slow, deep drawl tugged at Treat’s heart. He’d missed him. Hal had always been a calming influence on Treat. After his mother passed away, his father had pulled him and his siblings through those tumultuous years. But Hal wasn’t a coddler. He had instilled a strong work ethic and sense of loyalty into their heads, and that had enabled each of them to be successful in their endeavors.

“Dad, I’m here in town, but I’m going to stop at the festival first to see Savannah, if you don’t mind.”

“Yup. Savannah called. Treat, enjoy your time with her. She misses you, and I’d venture a guess that you could use a little extended family time, too.”

He could say that again. Anything to keep his mind off Max.

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