“Nice, you guess?” he mocks as he tugs me closer and starts peppering kisses across my chilly cheeks, nudging the bobble hat he forced me to wear before we left the house so my ears don’t get cold. “Just nice?”
“Fine,” I laugh. “It sounds really nice.”
He finally presses a kiss to my lips.
“Really, really nice,” I whisper against him before my tongue finds his again.
“One more thing,” he says as I lean my cold cheek on his warm hand.
“Go on.”
“My family wants to come over.”
I still, biting my lip.
“Before you say anything, they absolutely don’t have to come. Say the word, and I’ll make sure they stay away, butmy mum has not shut up about you and my sisters want?—”
“Jackson,” I interupt with a smile. “I want them to come. I want to meet your family.”
He releases a slow breath. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “You haven’t seen them for ages, and we’ve already spoken on the phone. I’d love to spend Christmas with them.”
Jackson’s smile is blinding as he cradles my face and kisses me.
“It’s a plan.”
“But first”— I lift my hands to his wrists— “we have to pick out a tree.”
He groans.
“You’re going to need to just pick one.”
He holds my shoulders and turns me in his arms. “Fine, let me do another lap.”
I always thoughtnesting was an exaggeration supported by companies who want you to buy toys and furniture. But moving into a new house, expecting a baby and in the run up to Christmas? I’m in full nesting mode.
It’s helped massively by Tiny the interior designer. I was reluctant until she showed up on the doorstep with a detailed binder and a catalog of designs that felt homely and perfect.
Although I have insisted that I decorate for Christmas myself. Which then resulted in Jackson doing most of ithimself,after he spotted me on a ladder and forced us both to lie down for an hour until his heart rate went back to normal. I want to create my own memories and traditionsthat Smudge will experience throughout her whole childhood.
I’m so focused on where the garlands will hang on the banisters and what bedding to add to all the upstairs bedrooms that I’ve barely had a chance to panic about the Harpers descending on us.
It’s best to keep moving. If I stop to think about it too hard, I’ll frazzle.
I’m putting the finishing touches on the tree when Jackson appears, handing me a glass of water and taking a seat on the couch.
“What do you think?” I take a step back to admire my work.
“I love it, pretty girl.”
I’ve gone for a country cottage vibe, woodsy and gold, with winter berries and rich green garlands hanging along the mantelpiece. It’s really starting to sink in now that this house is my home. It’s helped by the fact that Jackson has said yes to every suggestion Tina and I have added. After the downstairs gym, my office and the nursery that he has insisted on putting together himself, he’s given me free reign.
“Come here,” he says, leaning his arm back on the couch, gesturing to my space.
I toe off my slippers and gently ease back into his arms, resting my feet on the coffee table that heinsistedwe bring from the flat. It’s nice to ease my swollen ankles. Working a full time job, editing Kathleen’s short, growing a human and the aforementioned nesting, is pretty tiring. Who knew?
“You’ve been working too hard, Rosie, you need to relax.”
