Page 61 of An Undisputed Christmas
"It's tradition,” Jovie added innocently.
Adrian was practically crying with laughter. "Oh my god, this is happening. Wade Easton, reduced to gingerbread architecture. I'm recording this."
"You absolutely are not," Dad replied with dignity, though I caught the hint of a smile. "Fine. But I want it on record that I expect this gingerbread house to be structurally sound and up to code."
"Of course," Jovie promised. "We wouldn't expect anything less."
"Thomas is bringing in the presents," Dad announced as he shed his Rolex and rolled up his sleeves like he was preparing for battle. "I may have gone slightly overboard this year, but Christmas only comes once."
"Define 'slightly overboard,'" Adrian said suspiciously.
Dad's grin turned distinctly mischievous. "Let's just say I had to upgrade to the larger SUV. Twice."
Right on cue, the front door opened again, and Thomas appeared carrying what looked like the first of many professionally wrapped packages.
The man had been with our family for twenty years, and nothing fazed him anymore, not even his boss wearing a Santa hat while discussing gingerbread construction techniques.
"Mr. Easton," Thomas greeted with perfect dignity, "where would you like these placed?"
"Under the tree, as always. And take the rest of the holiday off. Spend it with your family."
"Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas."
I watched the steady parade of presents being deposited under our already well-loaded tree, noting how Leo and Avery's eyes grew progressively wider with each addition.
Dad had clearly taken his role as grandfather very seriously.
"Grandpa," Leo said quietly, tugging on Dad's sweater. "Did you really bring presents for everyone?"
"Of course I did," Dad replied, kneeling to Leo's level. "Christmas is about taking care of the people you love, remember? And I love all of you very much."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tight. For all his reputation and complicated relationships, Dad had always understood what family meant.
"Now then," he straightened up and surveyed our organized Christmas chaos, "shall we build this gingerbread masterpiece? I have very high standards for cookie architecture."
As Dad shepherded the kids toward the dining room table covered in gingerbread supplies, Leo chattering excitedly about proper icing application while Avery insisted everything needed to be "extra sparkly," I felt Estelle slip beside me.
"This is perfect," she hummed, watching as Dad patiently helped Leo measure gingerbread walls while wearing his slightly askew Santa hat. "All of it. I never imagined Christmas could feel like this."
I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing a few kisses against her hair. Even I never imagined how perfect this would be.
The morning continued around us, Dad's laughter mixing with the kids' excited chatter, Christmas music filling every corner, the smells of our feast perfuming the air, and our entire chosen family gathered under one roof in various states of festivity.
This was what I'd been fighting for all these years without even realizing it.
Not the championship belts, the money, or the recognition, but this—family, tradition, the knowledge that I could provide safety and joy for the people who mattered most.
Christmas Eve at the Easton house was shaping up to be everything I'd hoped for and more.
The house had finally settled into that perfect Christmas Eve quiet, a hushed stillness that felt heavy with magic and possibility, where even the ocean waves seemed to whisper more softly against the shore.
Leo and Avery had been tucked into bed an hour ago, their excited whispers finally giving way to sleep after we'd read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas twice, sung three different versions of Silent Night, and promised no fewer than seven times that Santa would definitely, absolutely find them at my high security beachhouse.
The girls had followed shortly after, exhausted from a full day of cooking, laughing, and wrangling two sugar-high children.
Now it was just us three men, standing in the living room that looked like something a master set designer had crafted for the perfect Christmas movie.
Beneath the tree, presents spilled out in colorful abundance. Boxes wrapped in colorful paper with gold ribbon sat alongside packages tied with emerald bows.
