Page 20 of Ransom

I switch on the clippers, and the buzzing fills the air. "Wait, what about Max? Maybe we should warn?—"

"Already did. He thinks I'm going to look cool."

"Good." Of course she prepared Max. She's a great mom, and she wouldn't do anything to deliberately upset him.

As I make the first pass over her scalp, Maggie reaches up and grabs my free hand, squeezing it tight. "You know," she says, her voice barely audible over the clippers, "I'm glad it's you doing this. Just like the first time."

I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat. "Always, Mags. I'll always be here."

We fall silent as I continue working, both lost in our own thoughts. The floor around us fills with wisps of Maggie's hair, and I'm struck by how different this feels from the first time. We were so young then, the future so full of promise. Our whole lives were ahead of us, and we were going to take on the world. Well, she would anyway. I never wanted more than the garage and this town.

But some things haven't changed. Maggie's still the strongest person I know, and I'm still right here beside her, ready to face whatever comes next.

7

RANSOM

Noah makes a little snuffling noise from his spot nestled against my chest. He's so tiny. Holly would disagree with me, and yeah, he's gotten a fuck of a lot bigger, but my hand can still cover his whole back. How is it even possible that something this tiny and precious can turn into a full-grown person? It's pure fucking magic.

"It's snowing, buddy," I whisper to him. His eyes blink, slowly, apparently unimpressed. He's fading. His first Christmas, and he was a total champ. Just sitting on the floor, clapping his hands, laughing as we all tossed wrapping paper in his direction. He only tipped over once, but you can't blame him for that. His head is fucking massive.

Pressing a kiss to that gargantuan head, I move away from the twenty-foot-tall windows and wander back into the destruction. Thanks to the women, the penthouse is decked out for Christmas. A massive tree stands in the corner, dripping with lights and ornaments. Garlands wrap around banisters, and stockings hang from the mantle. It's like Santa's workshop exploded in here.

The sound of laughter drifts down from upstairs. Sounds like the movie crowd is having a good time. I could go join them, but if I do, someone's going to try and snatch the baby from me. So I'm good right here.

Shuffling through the wrapping paper — not stepping on another Lego, thank you very much — I make my way to the living room and peek inside the big cardboard box in the middle of the floor and have to hold back a bark of laughter. Mia and John are both crashed inside. John's flat on his back, Mia on top of him, the toy hammer clutched in her fist pressed against his scarred cheek. Her legs are straight up the side of the box, and I have no fucking clue how either of them can sleep in that position. But any family gathering that involves big fucking presents, there they are.

I don't even remember what gift was inside that box. For all I know, the box was the gift.

Noah squirms a bit, rearing back to stare at me, scowling, then lets out a drunken laugh and face-plants back into my neck.

"You comfy there, buddy?" I whisper, chuckling. Noah just yawns in response.

"You're a natural," a voice says behind me.

Turning, I smile at Janey. "He's easy."

"Is he? I don't really know much about babies. They're not all like he is?" she asks.

Putting my hand on her back, I guide her to one of the couches. Holly and Micah are asleep in the corner of the other one. She sits, curling her feet under her, then grins up at me. "That looks good on you."

"The baby?"

"The onesie. The baby too, but seriously, I think we should have a onesie day at work. Maybe every Friday."

Peeking down, I take in the onesie I'm wearing. It's becoming a tradition. This year, everyone got a different animal. Janey's a sweet little bunny. Noah's a lion.

Mine is a cow. With big dangling udders.

A fucking cow.

"Interesting idea," I murmur, settling into the corner of the couch. "Though I’m not sure anyone's going to take me seriously going into a negotiation like this."

She giggles, muffling the sound with her hand as she glances at the sleeping couple. "Maybe not, but it would be great for morale."

I give her a glare, and she laughs, which makes me all kinds of happy. "How are you doing, Janey?"

"Me?" she asks, surprised. I don't know why. "I’m wonderful."

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