Page 60 of A Pack of Mistletoe
The pajamas do not have naked elves, as Kai feared… they have naked gingerbread alphas.Anatomically correctones. There’s a fair bit of rejection and dramatic groaning, and for a moment, I think we might have a full-blown pajama mutiny on our hands.
That is, until my perfect Candy princess pushes out her bottom lip, whispers that she’salwayswanted to do matching pajamas as part of a family, and manages to make her eyes look teary.
Suddenly, every alpha is covered in gumdrop balls and gingerbread cocks from neck to ankle. It’s masterful.
That’s how I know I’m in love with Rose. I’ve suspected it all along, but her holiday-themed emotional manipulation definitely confirms it.
Now we’re elbows-deep in colorful frosting, sprinkles, and edible glitter. We cut out Santas, snowflakes, and little houses, then bake them. Once decorated, they look less like cookies and more like cheerful blobs—shapes lost beneath rivers of powdered sugar icing, but still sparkling with joy.
Wyatt makes grilled cheese with tomato soup. Not from a can, obviously. Thick slices of golden toasted bread with real cheese oozing out the sides, paired with a pot of tomato soup that steams up the whole kitchen. Only the real stuff for our girl.
We devour it while talking about everything and nothing. Wyatt shares stories of Oklahoma Christmases. Snow dusting the prairie, cousins piled on couches, the truckload of relatives gathering every morning for a big family breakfast.
Harlan talks about his smaller family holidays, being an only child but deeply loved by his parents and grandparents.
I talk about last year, and how much I loved Harlan's parents joining me at my family’s giant Christmas. The house had been bursting at the seams with laughter and clinking glasses, too many people and not enough chairs, but it was the kind of chaos that makes the airsparkle. Harlan holds my hand while I tell it, caressing the backs of my knuckles.
I talk about the big traditions that last for weeks, and Kai, Logan, and Rose all lean in, listening—none of them put off by our joy. If anything, they look hungry for it.
Rose’s beautiful new scent lingers through it all. It's sharp and sweet, steady as firelight.
Later, we make hot chocolate. It's thick and creamy, topped with whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and crushed peppermint. The mugs warm our hands as much as the drinks warm our bellies, and the scent of cocoa fills the whole room.
We pile on and around the couch in the living room, limbs tangled and cocoa in hand. The storm outside batters the windows, but inside, the fire flickers golden and casts dancing shadows across our faces.
Candy is all softness as she melts into me, and I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her close. Harlan takes the seat beside me, draping an arm along the back of the couch so I can lean into his side, tucked safely between him and Rose. Wyatt settles on her other side, encouraging her to prop her feet up on his lap.
Kai and Logan sit on the floor in front of the couch. Kai leans back against Wyatt’s knees, sipping his cocoa like it’s the finest thing he’s ever tasted, while Logan tilts his head into Rose’s hand, purring low when her fingers comb through his hair.
The movie begins with “Christmas Vacation” being sung and a cartoon Santa trying to deliver presents.
“So it’s a cartoon?” Candy asks, frowning.
I roll my eyes and kiss the top of her head.
The blizzard outside is louder now, snow hammering the shutters but it only makes the room feel cozier. We’re wrapped in firelight, laughter, and each other. Our own little world of warmth while winter howls just beyond the walls.
Rose
Sunny’s Christmas party istheevent of the season in Lakeside Point. There’s no doubt the whole town will be watching Sunny’s new alphas—and Sunny herself. This is their first time hosting. At the last one, her grandmother was still alive and well, though apparently Sunny did most of the work—or so I’ve been told.
Like I said, I wasn’t there.
But there’s no question the town will be scrutinizing the Sterling Pack more closely. The Ember Pack’s been around for a few months now. People know them, like them. They could serve expired egg salad and still get a pass.
The Sterling Pack? We’re new. Unproven. Before the guys started courting me, Sunny made her distaste for Logan as Cole’s brotherveryclear. And all of my close friends and their packs know this started as an arrangement.
I warned the guys. Gave the whole “judgy town, sharp looks, side comments” speech.
They basically shrugged.
“It’s okay, Sugarplum. We’ve dealt with high scrutiny for a long time,” Wyatt told me gently.
I… remain skeptical.
Right now, we’re sitting in the car at the end of Sunny’s packed farmhouse driveway, staring at the glowing house like we’re about to walk into a very festive battlefield. Wyatt has a casserole dish balanced on his lap. Evander is holding a glittery poinsettia that’s shedding sparkles like a venereal disease.
People are already milling around inside. All the lights are on. White Christmas lights line the trim, garlands swagged with velvet ribbon, candles flickeringin every window. It’s so picture-perfect, I half expect to see a Thomas Kinkade signature in the corner of the porch.
