Page 26 of A Secret Baby for Christmas
“Don’t go. Stay with me always. As my wife.”
I gasp at his words. Is he just making an honorable woman out of me because I have his baby?
“I don’t need your pity,” I tell him, and he grunts in irritation.
“It’s not pity. I love you. How many more times do you want me to say it?”
He seems frustrated, and finally something gets through to my sleep deprived brain. He loves me. He wants to be with me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he says with exasperation. “Don’t ever run away from me again. I love you, and I love Hugo.”
“What about Allie?”
“Allie is fine. It’s a shock, but she’s given us her blessing.”
“Are you sure I won’t come between you two?”
“Yes.” He pulls me close. “I’m sure. Now stop talking and kiss me.”
He draws me to him, and as our lips lock, all the doubts flee my mind as I finally know I’m his. I’m really his.
“Jesus.” He pulls aways too soon. “Your lips are like icicles. Come on, get your things. We’re going back for Christmas.”
I grab a bag of essentials out of the trunk, and he straps it onto the snowmobile.
“We’ll come back for your car and the rest of your luggage when the snow clears.”
I take a seat behind him on the snowmobile and sit Hugo between us. He giggles as the snow stings our cheeks and the wind whips at our faces.
As we head back to the cabin, my body’s cold but my heart’s warm. I gave Mr. Porter a Christmas surprise, and now he’s giving me the best gift of all: his heart.
EPILOGUE
DAVID
One year later…
The chords of the wedding march fill the chapel, and there’s a shuffling sound as all the guests turn to watch the bride walk down the aisle.
I take a steadying breath before turning. My heart leaps in my chest at the sight of Chloe in her simple white dress that hugs her curves and fishtails out as she sashays down the aisle.
Her father is as grim-faced as ever, until he gets closer and I realize he’s fighting back tears. It turns out the old man has a heart after all.
Chloe’s eyes meet mine as she approaches, and her expression is hopeful and happy and warm. I’m the luckiest man alive to be marrying this beautiful woman today.
Her father kisses her on the cheek and murmurs something in her ear. Then it’s the two of us and the priest.
I take Chloe’s hands in mine and try to convey everything I feel for this woman in the look that I give her. I’m making a commitment to her today, and this time I’m marrying a woman of my choosing.
I repeat the words the priest says and go through the traditions that Chloe wanted to include as a nod to her French Catholic family.
Hugo giggles from his place on his grand-mere’s knee. He wiggles free of her clasp, and before she can catch him, he’s running toward us on his unsteady toddler legs.
The priest stops in his prayer, and all eyes go to our cheerful boy.
“Maman.” He reaches his tubby hands out for Chloe and she scoops him up, not caring about crinkling her wedding dress. The priest looks taken aback by the interruption, but I can’t keep the grin off my face.
