Page 37 of Better Not Pout
“Hi, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay? I know there are so many of us,” she says, her gaze warm as it washes over me. The shade of her eyes reminds me so much of her sons’. “I can’t imagine meeting everyone for the first time together.”
“It’s been lovely. Thank you so much for having me this weekend,” I say as we both look across the living room to where Wells is now sitting crisscross, with his nieces surrounding him, making popcorn string.
I cover my mouth to stop the laugh at how badly he’s struggling with it.
His hands are so big that he keeps dropping the popcorn, the pieces on the string slipping off each time he does. His sharp, strong jaw is tense as he focuses intently despite his nieces dissolving into giggles beside him.
Katherine laughs, shaking her head. “He might be grown now, but he’ll always be the little boy who loved doing crafts with me as a kid.”
I’m sure if Wells could hear her now, he’d be having a fit, but honestly, I like hearing about who he was before now.
“He used to make these adorable little snowmen out of pipe cleaners and cotton when he was young for my Christmas village. He’d sit there for hours and hours making them, perfectly content to be alone doing it. I think as much as he loved being around his siblings, he loved having the quiet time to himself.”
Realization rushes through me when I remember her gift that I tucked into my bag.
“Oh, hold on one second,” I say, rushing over to the spot by the door where Wells placed our stuff and rifling through my bag that I absolutely overpacked to find the neatly wrapped present.
I walk back over to Katherine, casting a quick glance at Wells, who’s still making Christmas crafts with the girls, and hand her the small box. “Uh, I picked this up for you the other day at Mistletoe Magic. It’s just something small, but Wells said you’d enjoy it.”
She eyes me for a moment, a mixture of curiosity and emotion swirling in her eyes, softening as she looks down at the box in her hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything, sweetheart. Thank you, that’s so incredibly kind of you.”
I bite my lip, nerves swirling in the pit of my stomach as she tears off the paper and peers inside the box.
Her breath hitches before she whispers, “Oh, Rosalie, this is the most precious gift.” She pulls out the small replica of Sweet Sullivan’s and spins it around in her fingers to fully look at it. “So thoughtful and sweet. I love it. Thank you so much.”
When she looks up at me, her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. She curves her hand in mine, squeezing gently. “I’m so glad that Wells found you. I can see the way he looks at you. I know that you’re special—it’s just a mother’s intuition. You know, he was lost for a long time, and something tells me that all of his searching led him right here to you, sweetheart. Thank you.”
I can only manage a nod, emotion thrumming heavily in my veins as I try to find the right thing to say.
I never make it that far because Wells steps into view, an easygoing smile pulling at his lips.
“What did I miss?”
Katherine laughs, reaching up to swipe away a tear. “Oh, nothing, darling. Rosalie was showing me this beautiful gift that she got me.”
His warm brown gaze bounces between his mom and me. “Told you she’d cry, Sugar.” He steps into me, slipping an arm around my waist, pulling me against his hard body, and pressing his lips to the top of my head before looking back at his mom. “Glad you like it, Mom. I think it’ll go well with your village.”
She nods, watching the two of us with a smile.
“Ready to check out the cabin?” he asks me.
“Yeah, of course.”
With my hand tightly clasped in his, we call for Penny and Frankie and say a quick goodbye to his family, and then he grabs our bags that he left by the front door and leads me outside.
Thankfully, it’s only a short walk from the main cabin to the others because it is freezing outside.
The cabin that Wells brings us to is obviously much smaller than the main house, but it’s even more cute and so cozy. When we walk through the front door, there’s already a steady fire crackling in the fireplace, illuminating the space. It’s decorated warmly in neutral browns, creams, and blacks.
Of course, Penny and Frankie head straight for the plush rug in front of the fireplace and roll around on it like they’re making themselves right at home.
I drag my gaze around the large room, over the adorable Christmas decorations, until I halt, realizing that in the middle of the room, there’s an extremely large bed.
Onesingularbed.
Of course there is, Rosalie, my God.
Did you expect them to put you in bunk beds?
