Page 46 of Home For Christmas

December 24th

“Presents!” Ty cheered as we got into the house.

“PJs first!” Colt spoke above him.

“I’ll get the wine,” I said, ignoring the pajama comment. There was no reason to wear the ridiculous pajamas before Christmas morning. It wasn’t like Mom was around to see we weren’t wearing them. “Wait, what presents?”

Harrison cleared his throat. “Wine after we change.”

“Seriously?” Greg didn’t seem to know if he should be surprised or not.

Ty and Declan were already heading to their room, and Colt had taken Derek’s hand and was beginning to guide him toward theirs.

I continued to the kitchen. “My mom will never know we didn’t wear them tonight.”

Harrison grabbed hold of my hand and tugged lightly toward our room. I could have easily pulled out of his grip, but my feet followed willingly. “You too, Greg,” Harrison called as we went up the steps. “This is the best part of Christmas at the Scotts!”

“I think that could be a slight exaggeration. They are ridiculous Christmas pajamas. We’ll have plenty of time to look foolish in them tomorrow at breakfast.”

Harrison gave me the saddest puppy dog eyes and any argument I’d been formulating disappeared instantly. “Seriously, Jas, this was like the best part of a Scott Christmas! And your mom always made hot chocolate and put those little marshmallows in it. And we’d sit in the living room watching Christmas movies and snacking on snowball cookies and laughing all night. Years always fell off of you at Christmas. It was the only day of the year you were ever a kid.”

“Okay, that was too sweet,” Greg choked back and I was certain I saw moisture in his eyes.

“Your mom stuck a big container of snowball cookies in our bag,” Harrison prodded.

That wasn’t fair. “How can I say no to snowball cookies?”

Greg set the box we’d brought home with our pajamas on the bed. “I really hope there are pictures.”

“No!” I nearly squawked, throwing my hand over Harrison’s mouth before he could tell Greg where to look for the pictures at my mom’s house. “I’ll put the damned pajamas on. There better be a lot of snowballs in that container.”

Greg was nearly doubled over laughing at us. “I have never seen you so incensed over anything.” He kissed my forehead. “I am not going to go looking for the pictures, promise.” Before I could thank him, he added quietly, “Though I won’t look away if Marla happens to get them out at some point.”

I gasped in mock horror. “Asshole.”

Harrison stripped out of his clothes and searched for his set of pajamas. I was the only one who wore a smaller size, but my mom had taken it a step further than just getting matching pajamas. We also ended up with personalized ones. According to the shirt, I was the snowman who was beginning to melt and holding his own nose. At least Greg was the one not melting... Then again, the snowman with Harrison’s name on it was holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate, and the only article of clothing it was wearing was a scarf tossed over one of its stick arms, I wasn’t sure what that mean in my mom’s world.

As I pulled my shirt over my head, Harrison was nearly vibrating out of his skin. “Selfie!” he demanded as he searched for his phone. “First Christmas pajama photo!”

We crowded together, and just as Harrison took the first picture, Greg whispered into my ear, “The first of many.” In the remaining pictures, my smile was huge.

When Harrison finally put his phone down, my cheeks hurt but I was still smiling.

As we headed down the steps, Ty’s dramatic voice filtered toward us from the living room. “More snow?”

There was shuffling, then I heard Declan’s voice. “How is that even possible? And seriously, two hours ago it was supposed to be done.”

“Snow!” That was Derek’s voice, but he didn’t sound like the guy who had been boisterously laughing and telling ridiculous jokes a half hour ago. His voice was quieter and there was a wonder in it that I didn’t often hear from him.

“No wine for him,” Harrison said seriously as we made our way down the steps.

I’d seen Derek little a few times by that point, but he hadn’t been anywhere near as little as he seemed to be tonight. The snug pajamas my mom had bought him did nothing to hide the thick diaper underneath, and with the way he was sitting on the floor with his blanket watching the train that Harrison had insisted we put up, he didn’t look like a thirty-six-year-old.

Not that Derek had seemed particularly stressed earlier in the day, but there was a lightness about him that couldn’t be denied. With his hair down instead of in his signature messy bun, he looked even younger than normal. On a logical level, I’d understood what Derek got out of his little side long before tonight. Hell, I’d even seen him little a few times, but it wasn’t the same those times as it was now. Maybe he’d gotten more comfortable around us, maybe it was that the kids weren’t around, but I could tell he was in a very different headspace than he’d ever been before, at least around me. Harrison had told us that Derek didn’t sink too far into littlespace around us, but until then, I hadn’t understood the difference. Judging by Greg’s wide eyes, he seemed to be just as surprised as I was.

“Bottle or cup?” Harrison asked Colt as we headed to the kitchen for drinks.

Colt studied Derek for a moment then made a decision. “Bottle, thanks. It’s been a while since we’ve had a totally free night where we don’t have to worry about kids. He’s desperately needed this.”

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