MATT

The next morning, Christmas music blares at full volume, a fresh layer of snow coats the ground outside, a steaming pot of coffee waits to be poured, and I’m trying to wrestle a wooden spatula out of Bailey’s hand.

“Hand it over, Matthew, or so help me.”

That’s her taunt and I can’t help but laugh. She’s diminutive. I could pluck her up with two fingers and deposit her elsewhere.

My brow arches, and with one tug I yank the spatula out of her hand and hold it up over my head. She jumps to get it and I move it just a little farther out of her reach. Suddenly, I’m a middle school bully. I’ll stuff her in a locker next.

“Can’t you just go enjoy your coffee in the living room?” I press a hand to her chest. “Go cocoon yourself and watch the snow falling. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

This is hard for her, me making breakfast. Instead of listening to me, she lingers in the kitchen, asking if I need help with anything. I scramble eggs and fry up some bacon, both of which I had to run down the road to purchase before she and Josie woke up. Her fridge had only four items in it when I checked this morning, and none of them looked fit for human consumption.

I drop some bread into the toaster and she rushes over, explaining to me how it works.

“Ohhhh, I see,” I reply, as if enlightened to the art of toast for first time in my life. “You put the bread in the two little slits and push down right here. Got it. I always thought there was more to it.”

My sarcasm is lost on her. She flies over to the fridge. “Why don’t I make us some fresh-squeezed orange juice?”

She bends down and roots through the empty drawers, no doubt trying to find the orange I saw earlier. It was growing a Petri dish’s worth of mold. It’s now in the trash.

“Bailey,” I chide, dropping my hands on her shoulders and directing her into the living room. She attempts to dig her heels in, but my size makes it a futile fight. “When was the last time someone cooked for you?”

She frowns up at me, having to think hard. “Josie tried to make me pancakes a few months ago, but she set off the smoke alarm and then like a dozen firemen showed up.” She waves her hand. “It was a whole thing.”

Josie, who’s sitting on the couch eating cereal (which I also bought), smiles proudly. “It was actually pretty cool. One of them let me try on his uniform.”

I chuckle and turn back to Bailey. Her eyes say, Please let me help. I shake my head, tip her chin toward me, and am about to give her a chaste kiss when I realize her sister is watching us. Instead, I straighten and gently shove her down onto the couch. “Sit.” She tries to stand. “No. I said sit.” I step back and hold up my hands, retreating hesitantly. “Stay.”

“You’re talking to me as if I’m a dog,” she says pointedly.

“If only you were—maybe then you’d actually listen.”

She narrows her eyes before I return to the kitchen. To Bailey’s credit, she stays put for the entire ten minutes it takes me to finish up the bacon and eggs. I fix our plates, top off our coffee mugs, and then set the table.

Bailey is inexplicably touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she says, waving to her food and the bouquet of flowers I picked up at the checkout counter on a whim. I felt foolish carrying them in earlier, like maybe it was a little too much, but then Bailey walked out of her bedroom, wiping sleep from her eyes and dragging her feet. She paused, face frozen, mouth agape, and then she asked very slowly, “Are those for me?”

A million responses leapt to my mind, none of which seemed appropriate at that moment, so I settled for a simple, “Merry Christmas.”

I’ve never seen someone fuss so much over a few damn roses. She trimmed them carefully and arranged them in a vase. They sit on the table between us now, and she’s staring at them as she takes a big bite of scrambled eggs.

Josie opts to finish her cereal in the living room. Apparently, there’s some kind of holiday movie marathon on TV that she doesn’t want to miss.

“Matt, this is amazing.” Bailey grins.

“It’s nothing. I make myself breakfast every morning.”

She levels her gaze on me. “You know what I mean. I really appreciate it.”

“How will you ever thank me?” I ask, hoping Josie is too enamored by her cheesy movie to catch my innuendo.

Bailey’s eyes light up. “I can give you your presents!”

“Presents, as in more than one?”

She leaps to her feet and hurries out of the room. A second later, a wrapped box is dropped onto my lap. There’s a pink bow right on top.

“Open it, open it!” she insists.

I have a weird urge to protest. If I open this now, what will I have to open on Christmas morning? But then I remember I’m an adult, not a ten-year-old boy. Not to mention, I don’t want to kill Bailey’s excitement. I start to unwrap it and I’m so careful with the bow and wrapping paper it’s like I’m going to go home and put it all in a scrapbook. Bailey notices.

“God, are you meticulous about everything? I should have known a surgeon wouldn’t just tear into a gift with full abandon.”

“Ha ha,” I mock, flattening the wrapping paper on the table just to mess with her. Then I fold it in two, and again, hotdog style.

She’s nearly convulsing with impatience.

There’s tape across the top of the box. I reach my hand toward her and demand, “Scalpel.”

She feigns pulling out her hair, clearly over my jokes, so I open it quickly, blinking with confusion at what stares up at me.

Her smile is self-conscious. “It’s a little scoreboard—y’know, for the basketball hoop in your office.”

I laugh. “Awesome.”

I pick it up to see how it works and my gaze catches on the second thing Bailey put in the box.

A picture of me.

A picture of me with devil horns and a little red tail.

She rolls her lips together before clarifying, “That is, well…you might have heard, but it’s a picture that was hanging in the staff lounge.”

“What a thoughtful gift,” I reply dryly.

“It’s not really a gift.” She tilts her head in thought. “I guess me taking it down is sort of a gift, but I think the fact that I, er…was the one to put it up in the first place kind of negates that. Don’t you think?” My eyes catch hers and she offers a helpless smile. “It was before I worked for you. Kirt was crying, really making a scene, so I did it to make him laugh.”

“You drew the devil horns?”

She grimaces. “Guilty. Please don’t hate me.”

If I’m honest, it’s actually extremely funny that Bailey was the culprit behind the photo. I mean, talk about a twist of fate.

“You can draw an embarrassing photo of me and hang it in the doctors’ lounge if you want!” she adds hurriedly. “Just to even the score.”

My gaze levels with hers and I reply as seriously as possible. “All right. You can pose for me after breakfast.”

Her eyes widen as she catches my meaning and she flushes from head to toe.

“Matt.”

I smirk and drop the picture back into the box. “Consider us even.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not at all. In fact, I love both of my gifts. Now finish your breakfast. I need to head over to check on June while the roads are still clear, and you can come with me if you want.”

She scrambles for her fork. “Yes!”

The days leading up to Christmas pass quickly. I’d planned on taking full advantage of an empty office to catch up on work, but somehow it never happens. It’s easy to see where I go wrong, and it’s largely in my inability to say no to Bailey. On that first day, after we check on June, we drive by an outdoor holiday market with vendors selling last-minute Christmas gifts. There are carolers and food trucks and even a little skating rink.

“We have to take Josie!” Bailey exclaims, her face and hands pressed to my passenger window. “She’ll love it!”

So, of course, we do. But first, we stop off at my house so I can shower and change into some clean clothes. After I rinse off, I step back into my room with a towel wrapped around my waist and find Bailey packing some of my clothes into one of my duffle bags.

“What are you doing?” I ask, glancing down to see what she’s packed. There are like 45 pairs of socks, but not much else.

“I figured it’d just be easier for you to have some clothes at my house.”

“Oh?”

She turns toward me in a panic, face suddenly pale. “Unless I’m reading this situation wrong? Oh crap—was this just a one-night-stand sort of thing?”

Before I can reply, she proceeds to turn the duffle bag over and spill the contents of it out onto my bed. Just as I suspected, it’s all socks. At least there’s an assorted variety.

I laugh. “No, Bailey. I was actually going to pack some clothes, but you were off to a good start.”

She watches me as I walk into my closet to grab a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt.

“Wait, umm…before you get dressed…”

Her voice drifts off as she rubs her arm, clears her throat, and stares up at the ceiling. I carry my clothes back into my bedroom and lay them across the bench in front of my bed. I know she’s suggesting we have sex, and the idea that she thinks I was planning on leaving my house without doing that first is adorable.

I smile tauntingly. “Finish your sentence.”

She turns away and scrunches her nose then squints her eyes at my headboard like she’s deep in thought. “I was just going to say…because you have a king bed and we only had my twin bed last night…” I step toward her and start to tug her shirt up over her stomach and chest. She holds up her arms dutifully and her shirt gets tossed to the floor. “Not to mention, you have an empty house and Josie thinks we’re still checking in on June…” I unbutton her jeans and start to slide them down her legs. “It really just makes sense for us to have sex right now!” she finally finishes on a heavy exhale.

I smirk and bend down to kiss her.

“Funny, I was just going to suggest the same thing.”

The morning after the holiday market, I force myself to spend a couple hours up at the hospital. I need to check in on a few patients and catch up on work, but it doesn’t last.

Then she sends a picture of Josie leaning over the tree, frowning, and doing a thumbs-down.

I wonder if Bailey ever just has a normal, boring day. Somehow, I doubt it.

That evening, we drive to a tree farm and luck out when we see that all the trees are on sale.

“Duh!” Josie says from the back seat. “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow!”

I hadn’t even realized. Crap. I should have called my mom back days ago, but it completely slipped my mind. She’s probably given up my spot at the Christmas dinner table, or if not, she’ll have ordered a cutout version of me to place there. It’d probably be as jovial as I tend to be during the holidays.

I leave Bailey and Josie to browse through the trees and tell them to find a good one, and then I head back toward my car to dial my mom.

“Well, if it isn’t a Christmas miracle,” she teases as soon as she picks up.

I smile. “Hey. Sorry, it’s been a crazy few days.”

“Aren’t they always? Let me guess, you’re up at the office now, working even though you should be enjoying the holidays?”

I rub the scruff of my neck and turn in time to see Josie point to the back of the lot, where they keep the behemoths, and then I hear her tell the attendant, “We’re looking for something bigger!”

Oh lord.

“Actually, I’m at a tree farm with Bailey and her sister.”

“Bailey…” She says the name like she’s trying to jog her memory.

“The woman I’m seeing,” I clarify at the same moment she exclaims, “Your surgical assistant?! The woman Cooper brought as his date to Molly’s wedding?”

I watch as Josie points to what I swear is the biggest, widest tree in the whole damn lot and then asks the attendant to wrap it up. Bailey turns back to me and holds up her hands like, What are we going to do?

I laugh and shake my head. There is a 110% chance I’ll be driving home with that tree attached to the roof of my Prius.

My mom makes a funny, well-isn’t-that-interesting noise. “So she got you out of the office, huh?”

I sigh. “Seems so.”

“I’ll be damned. Are you going to spend Christmas Day with her as well?”

Bailey made it clear I was welcome to. Well, technically, Josie was the first to insist upon it. “You have to! Bailey makes the best cinnamon rolls in the world! It’s a Christmas tradition!”

“I might.”

“Well, you’re welcome to bring them over to the house. It’ll just be a few of us. Your Uncle Pat and his wife are coming, and Molly and Thomas are back from their honeymoon so they’ll be there too. Cooper’s staying up in Cincinnati.”

“Okay, let me run it by Bailey and I’ll let you know.”

I expect Bailey to flinch at the idea of spending Christmas with my family, and I don’t even work up the courage to suggest it until we’re halfway home from the tree farm. It’s taking longer than usual because with the tree on my roof, I can barely see out the windshield.

“Really?! I’d love to go to your parents’ house on Christmas!” she says, smiling. “Honestly, the holidays can get a little lonely with just Josie and me, and it’s a hassle making all that food for only two people. We usually just skip right to dessert.” She turns toward the back seat. “What do you think, Jos? Do you want to go?”

Josie leans forward and props her hand on my headrest. “What kind of food are we talking? Your standard turkey and stuffing?”

“And ham too, probably.”

Her eyes narrow in serious contemplation. “Will there be sweet potato casserole?”

“Always.”

“Green bean casserole?”

My grin widens. “Definitely.”

“How many dessert options, give or take?”

“Josie,” Bailey cuts in, eyes wide in warning.

“At least half a dozen,” I brag.

“Fresh-baked rolls?”

I smirk, knowing full well I’ve got her. “My mom uses an old family recipe. Word is she uses half a stick of butter for each one.”

She grins and taps my headrest twice. “All right then. I’ll wear my stretchiest pants.”