Page 85 of Six of Hearts
We worked together, covering each other's flanks, communicating with looks and gestures like we'd been doing this for years instead of months. She was good at this—at reading the field, at anticipating movements. It was attractive as hell.
Then, as if the universe wanted to prove it had a sense of humour, real snow started falling.
The fake stuff was still scattered across the yard, but now actual flakes drifted down from the grey sky, fat and lazy and perfect. The kids noticed immediately, their excited shouts reaching a new pitch.
"Christmas magic!" Hazel yelled, spinning in circles with her arms outstretched.
Aria looked up at the sky, snowflakes catching in her hair, and smiled. "Would you look at that."
I looked at her instead. At the wonder on her face, the pure joy, the way she fit into this moment like she'd always been meant to be here.
Yeah. Magic.
We retreated inside for hot chocolate once the cold started seeping through our clothes. Noah's kitchen became command central again, Aria and Liam working together to make enough hot chocolate for a small army while the rest of us corralled the kids into the living room.
I found myself on the couch with Finn curled against my side, his small body warm and solid and real. He was telling me about the snow, about how it was "the best Christmas ever," and I had to agree.
Best Christmas ever.
The hot chocolate appeared, topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, and we settled in as a group. The kids were starting to wind down, the sugar crash imminent, and I could see the adults exchanging knowing looks.
"Alright," Gabriel said eventually, standing up with the authority of someone used to being obeyed. "Time to get you guys ready. Grandparents are expecting you."
The groans were immediate and predictable, but the kids complied. They knew the drill—Christmas morning with the dads, Christmas afternoon and evening with the extended family.
I helped Finn pack up his overnight bag, making sure he had everything he needed. Caleb was taking him to Gabriel's parents' house, which still felt surreal. Six months ago, I'd been alone with my son, running from a past I couldn't escape. Now I had a whole network of people I trusted to care for him.
"Be good," I told Finn, crouching down to his level.
"Listen to Caleb and Mr. and Mrs. Torres.”
"I will, Dad." He threw his arms around my neck, squeezing tight. "Love you."
"Love you too, buddy."
I watched him leave with Caleb, tracking their movement until the car disappeared around the corner. The house felt quieter without the kids, emptier, but not in a bad way.
Now it was just us. The seven of us.
"Alright," Aria said, clapping her hands together. "Gift exchange time."
"We already did gifts," Ethan pointed out.
"Those were for the kids. These are for you guys." She gestured to a pile of presents I hadn't noticed before, tucked away in the corner. "I thought it would be nice if you all exchanged gifts with each other. Get to know each other better."
The guys exchanged glances, and I could see the mix of surprise and pleasure on their faces. It was a good idea—thoughtful in a way that was pure Aria.
"I'll go first," Gabriel said, moving to the pile. He pulled out several packages, distributing them to Ethan. "Here."
Ethan tore into them with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning, and his face lit up as he revealed the contents. Boxing gear—shorts, gloves, shoes, hand tape, a mouthguard kit, a robe, and a heavy bag.
"Holy shit," Ethan breathed. "This is... Gabriel, this is too much."
"You've been talking about getting back into it," Gabriel said with a shrug. "Figured I'd help. You can come to the gym with me tomorrow, break them in."
"Hell yes." Ethan was already pulling on the gloves, testing the fit. "These are perfect."
The gift exchange continued, each present revealing something about both the giver and the receiver. Ethan gave Gabriel a new pair of gloves, an ATV paint job, new tyres, a shadow box with one of his awards, a replacement Bluetooth speaker, and tickets to some monster truck show. Gabriel's faceactually softened at the shadow box, his fingers tracing the frame.
