Let it Snow Go! Let it Snow Go! Let it Snow Go!
“Good night, Julia,” I whispered as I pulled the comforter over her little body and tucked her in to bed.
She yawned. And, with her eyes still closed, she offered a sleepy smile. “Love yous, Mommy. Best Christmas evers.”
I kissed her forehead. “Love you too, sweetheart.”
My oldest daughter was out before I walked across the room and turned out the light.
With one final glance toward Evie’s crib, to find an already sleeping angel, I headed out of the girls’ bedroom and shut the door.
It was official. All of the kids in the house were in bed, and thanks to Luc Marino—the chef Kline had hired to cook our meals and prevent me from having a nervous break down—and the five staff members who’d come along with him, the kitchen was clean and the fridge was packed full of leftovers and desserts. I smiled to myself at the idea of relaxing by the fire and headed downstairs to spend the remainder of Christmas night with the adults.
Once I reached the bottom of the staircase and walked into the living room, I found the fire aglow, the lights on the tree still glimmering, and the room filled with laughter, smiles, and that intangible feeling you can only get from the spirit of Christmas.
My parents sat together on the leather sectional, holding hands and sipping on my mother’s famous boozy nog, while Cassie and Thatcher chatted about football with Cass’s brother, Sean—who was currently serving as a napping spot for their pet pig, Philmore.
Winnie teased Wes about his social media skills, while Quinn Bailey and Cam Mitchell joined in on the ribbing. Stan and Walter appeared content, snuggled up together in front of the fire. And Dean was busy telling Kline about Leslie’s latest ridiculous office behavior.
Everyone was here. Happy. Together.
I’d wanted this Christmas to be perfect, devoid of my crazy family’s antics and set with a perfectly plotted-out itinerary jam-packed with every possible food, event, and music that signified the holiday. But as I looked around the living room filled with some of the most important people in my life, I realized that even though this Christmas wasn’t perfect, this—spending time with the ones you loved—was what the holiday was all about.
“Georgia.” Kline’s voice caught my attention. “Come over here and tell Dean that Leslie isn’t that bad.”
I laughed outright as I walked over toward my husband and sat in his lap.
“Baby, I love that you try to see the best in people, but Leslie is pretty much the worst.”
“Ha!” Dean smiled like the Cheshire cat. “My point exactly.”
“Thanks for the help, baby.” Kline just shook his head on a laugh, and I shrugged.
“That woman used to steal my lunch out of the break room. And one time, it was cheesecake. Believe me, after that, I will never be her number one fan.”
Never steal a woman’s cheesecake. If that wasn’t a valuable life lesson right there, I didn’t know what was.
“The girls asleep, Georgie?” my dad asked, and I realized that for the first time in the past thirty-six hours, he wasn’t dressed as the infamous Santa Dick.
It was a much-needed change of scenery. Plus, I was tired of hearing Julia call him Santas Dick.
“Yep,” I responded with a nod. “They were asleep before I even turned the lights out.”
“Ace and Gunner were the same exact way,” Cassie said and snuggled in closer to Thatch. “Christmas wore them the fluff out.”
I looked across the room to my mother.
“See, Mom? It is possible for kids to calm down on Christmas without the need for booze,” I teased, and she grinned. “Speaking of which,” I added and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “I forgot to tell my brother Merry Christmas and that our childhood was a sham.”
“A sham?” my mother snorted. “The only sham in your childhood revolved directly around that pillow you loved so much.”
“Oh yeah!” my dad agreed on a chuckle. “Georgie loved that pillow. Hell, she—”
I cut him off before he got started. “Enough about the pillow, Dad!”
“Are they talking about your dirty little secret, otherwise known as your hump pillow, Wheorgie?” Cassie chimed in, and I groaned.
“I’m ignoring everyone right now.”
Okay, yeah, it was true that I did, in fact, have a “hump” pillow when I was in the early years of…discovering myself, but that didn’t mean everyone in my life needed to know about it.
But, apparently, my family and friends thought otherwise. Those bastards were incapable of understanding personal boundaries.
Kline squeezed my shoulder, and I could feel his warm chuckles against my neck.
“It’s not funny,” I muttered, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tighter to his chest.
“I’m a fan of the pillow,” he whispered, and I snorted.
“Yeah, and you’re also a total weirdo who managed to commandeer that pillow from my parents’ attic.”
He just grinned, and I shook my head in amusement.
“I’m still ignoring everyone right now and texting my brother!” I announced before anyone else decided to air out my teenage dirty laundry.
“Tell Willy we said hello and Merry Christmas!” my dad exclaimed.
Me: Merry Christmas, William! Give Melody and my niece a kiss from me!
My phone buzzed with his response a moment later.
Will: Merry Christmas, Gigi. Give Kline, the girls, and our parents my love. Hope you guys are having fun at the cabin.
How did he know our parents were here? Hell, how did he even know we were at the cabin? I sure as fuck hadn’t told him.
Me: Wait…what? How did you know that we were at the cabin?
Will: Because I was at Mom and Dad’s the day Julia FaceTimed them from her iPad and invited them.
Oh. My. God.
My daughter. My sweet baby angel.
She was the culprit.
It was always the people you least expected, wasn’t it?
Me: And you didn’t think to tell me?!?
Will: I guess it slipped my mind.
Me: Uh-huh. Sure. You were probably just thankful they wouldn’t be stopping by your house unannounced.
Will: Exactly.
Me: You’re such a jerk.
Will: I love you too, Gigi.
Me: Pffft. Whatever. Btw Mom’s eggnog is chock-full of sugar and booze. And that’s not a new recipe. It’s the one she has been using since we were kids.
Will: I’m well aware that Mom’s eggnog has liquor in it.
What? He knew? While everyone continued to chat and laugh around me, I angrily typed out another response.
Me: Even when we were kids???
Will: Of course. Why do you think I’d beg them for more every year?
That bastard.
Me: Seriously, William? And you didn’t think to tell me that either?
Will: You’ve always been a bit neurotic around Christmas. The spiked alcohol was much-needed to chill you the fuck out.
Me: You’re the worst brother ever.
Will: I love you, Gigi.
I almost sent him a middle finger emoji, but I remembered it was Christmas. Now wasn’t the time for rage.
Me: Love you too. But don’t think I’ll forget this conversation. And payback is the baddest chick I know…
The rage would come later.
I’d start plotting tomorrow.
Will: ☺ Merry Christmas, sis.
“Will and Mel doing good?” Kline asked as I set my phone on the coffee table.
“Uh-huh,” I answered and met his deliciously blue eyes. “You know what I just found out?”
He quirked a brow. “What?”
“Guess who was the one to invite my parents to the cabin.”
“Who?”
“Julia.”
Kline’s jaw dropped. “No shit?”
“No shit,” I answered. “Apparently, she FaceTimed them from her iPad. Will just so happened to be there to hear the call.”
He chuckled softly in disbelief. “Good Lord, I didn’t expect that one.”
“Yeah. Me either.”
I guess that leaves one question unanswered…
I took a quick glance around the room and decided Quinn Bailey was my best bet on figuring out the other part of the sabotage puzzle. That insanely handsome, blue-eyed, Southern gentleman wouldn’t lie.
“Hey, Quinn,” I called for his attention.
“Yeah, darling?”
“Who invited you guys to the cabin?”
“Wes,” he said while nodding toward the turncoat himself.
“Shit,” Wes muttered and held up both hands. “I swear to God it was an accident, Georgia. I was all pumped about the win, and that ESPN interviewer asked me about my holiday plans, and it just kind of slipped. And then,” he continued and pointed toward each and every one of the guys on the team, “these guys just kind of invited themselves.”
“Dude,” Sean chimed in, “you invited us.”
“Yeah,” Cam agreed. “You’re the one who told us we could come to the cabin.”
My glare returned to Wes, and he cringed.
“I’m so sorry, Georgia.”
I tried to stay strong, but I could only hold that fake glare for a good thirty seconds until my face started to crack like an eggshell, and I burst into giggles.
“You’re the world’s worst liar, Wheorgie,” Cassie announced, and I flipped her the bird.
“Hey,” I started once I got my laughter under control, “I had Wes going for a little bit there. That has to at least count for something.”
“You’re really not pissed?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“I might’ve been when an extra ten mouths to feed showed up at the cabin yesterday, but no, I’m not mad now,” I answered honestly. Because I wasn’t mad. I was just thankful.
And blessed. So, so blessed.
“I just want you all to know one very important thing,” I said and looked at each and every face in the room. “Thank you for spending Christmas with us this year. I love you guys.”
Kline gave me a tight hug and kissed my forehead while everyone in the room returned their own sweet sentiments of thank yous and I love yous and Merry Christmases.
“I’d like to add something to that,” Quinn announced and stood to his feet. “Thanks to Georgia and Kline’s generous hospitality, this has been a fantastic Christmas. And,” he added with a giant smile on his face, “it’s about to be the best season for the Mavericks because we’re going all the way, baby!”
“Hell yeah, boy!” Cam exclaimed, and every single Maverick in our living room hopped out of their seat and started high-fiving and cheersing one another.
And I didn’t care about the noise or the possibility the guys might wake the kids up.
Instead, I just savored the moment.
Life was good.
I mean, it isn’t every day that a bunch of hunky, professional football players are dancing around in your living room, right?
Not to mention these guys are the soon-to-be champions…
Yeah, life is good.
Merry Christmas, everyone!