Page 44 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
Back home, we exchange one more gift before bed, a tradition in my family to open a single present on Christmas Eve. I give her a leather-bound journal with her name embossed on the cover.
"For your new beginnings," I explain as she runs her fingers over the supple leather. "Your thoughts, your dreams, your future."
She gives me a handmade scrapbook, each page documenting a moment from our whirlwind romance, the tree lighting ceremony, our first Christmas tree together, snapshots Riley took at the community party.
"I know it's only been a few weeks," she says, suddenly shy. "But they've been the most important weeks of my life."
We fall asleep that night with the Christmas tree lights casting a soft glow across the bedroom, Destiny's head pillowed on my chest, her breathing deep and even. I lie awake a bit longer, watching the play of colored light on the ceiling, feeling a contentment so complete it almost hurts.
Christmas morning brings fresh snow and childlike excitement from Destiny, who wakes me at dawn insisting we open presents immediately.
"Santa came," she announces, bouncing on the bed like an enthusiastic five-year-old.
I grab her around the waist, pulling her down beside me. "Santa, huh? Did you check if he ate the cookies?"
"Every last crumb." She kisses me quickly, then tries to wiggle free. "Come on, presents!"
I laugh, releasing her. "Give me two minutes to brush my teeth."
We spend the morning in pajamas, opening gifts by the tree. Small things, mostly, books, sweaters, a new set of cooking knives for Destiny, hiking gear for me. But it's not about the presents. It's about the fact that we're here, together, building traditions neither of us thought we'd have again.
Later, as we prepare for Christmas dinner at Tom and Kelsie’s house, I watch Destiny move around our bedroom with comfortable familiarity. She hums Christmas carols as she fixes her hair, tries on and discards jewelry options, asks my opinion on her dress choice.
"You're staring again," she notes, catching my eye in the mirror.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
I cross to her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. "About how much I love watching you get ready. How much I love that your clothes hang next to mine in the closet. How much I love that you're coming to Christmas dinner as part of my family."
She turns in my arms, looping her hands around my neck. "I love all those things too."
"Good." I rest my forehead against hers. "Because I plan on loving you for a very long time, Destiny Brooks."
"How long are we talking?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief and something deeper.
"Oh, I don't know. Fifty, sixty years? Give or take."
She pretends to consider this. "That seems reasonable. I accept your terms."
"Excellent." I kiss her softly. "I'll draw up the paperwork immediately."
She laughs, the sound filling our bedroom with joy. "Merry Christmas, Mason."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her perfume, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine. "The first of many."
As we drive to Tom's house, snow falling gently around us, Christmas music playing on the radio, I glance over at Destiny. She catches me looking and smiles, that radiant, full-hearted smile that never fails to take my breath away.
Two weeks ago, Tom asked me if the confrontation with Greg was worth it. If putting myself in potential danger for a woman I barely knew made sense. I didn't hesitate then, and I wouldn't hesitate now.
Some things are worth fighting for. Some people change your life in ways you never imagined possible. And sometimes, the greatest gifts arrive on your doorstep when you least expect them, wrapped in courage and hope and the promise of a love that could last forever.
Destiny reaches over to take my hand, intertwining our fingers as we drive through the snow-covered landscape toward family, celebration, and the future we're building together, one day, one promise, one Christmas at a time.
EPILOGUE
DESTINY
