He chuckles. “I’m not done yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you notice? I put the snowflake on your door twelve days before Christmas.”
My jaw drops. “You’re going to make metwelve?”
He nods, and I throw my arms around him in a tight hug.
“It’s been good for me too,” he confesses into my hair. “Reconnecting to my creativity. Like I said, I enjoy working with my hands, and you can probably tell I’ve built some of the furniture around here. These days, I spend all my time sitting at my computer, and I’ve missed that side of myself. But that was just a bonus. The real gift was making something for you.”
I press a smacking kiss to his cheek. “I am going to bake you the best goddamn lemon bars you’ve ever tasted.”
His eyes roll back as he moans. “I can’t fucking wait.”
“I didn’t realize baked goods could also make you moan like that,” I tease, and his gaze darkens.
“Anything and everything about you makes me moan.”
“Even my dirty dishes?”
“I told you, I like cleaning.”
Now it’s my turn to moan. “I think that’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He’s chuckling as he pulls me down on the bed.
An hour later, we’re lying under the covers, fully naked. Theo’s arm is slung over my waist, and his head rests on my hair where it spills across his pillow. I’m on my back, holding the little wooden reindeer and running my fingertips over the ridges left by the tools, each one carved by Theo with his own two hands.
For me.
“What are you going to name it?” he asks.
I smile. “Mistletoe.”
Lifting the reindeer over our heads, I turn my face to kiss him.
Epilogue
Christmas Day
Aweek later, we’re sitting on my sofa, gazing at my tree. It’s decorated with all twelve of Theo’s ornaments. In addition, my Funko Pop figures hang by tiny harnesses made of knotted red nylon cord. There’s Storm, Loki, and Princess Leia, among others. And of course, Starsong.
The tree looks festive and silly and represents the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.
We’re eating lemon bars off a plate on my coffee table. It’s the third time I’ve baked them in the past week. I’m worried Theo’s going to get sick of them, but he swears that will never happen.
If it does, I’ll just find something new to bake for him.
We’re sharing a quiet moment before we go to his mother’s house in New Jersey, where I’m going to meet his mom along with his two sisters and their families. Last night I brought him to my aunt’s big Christmas Eve party in Queens, and he met my entire extended family. Theo was, as usual, charming and helpful, instantly ingratiating himself with my parents by carrying all the gifts and food into the house in one trip.
I was worried it would be awkward to see my uncle, but then he presented me and all my cousins with checks from the sale of the house. Mine was twice as much as everyone else’s, a thank-you, he said, for taking such good care of Grandma during her final years. It was completely unexpected, and didn’t quite make up for his shady behavior a few months ago, but having Theo at my side grounded me and reminded me to look toward the future instead of the past.
At the end of the night, my sister, April, pulled me aside to whisper, “I was wrong! He’s definitely a good choice.”
It was nice, but I didn’t need to hear it. I already knew.
“When do you start working again?” he asks me now. I swallow a sugary-tart bite of lemon bar and wash it down with tea.
