Chapter Thirteen

Christmas Day couldn’t be over fast enough. And Sammi never felt that way. Ever. It was her favorite day of the year. She looked forward to it so much, and once it arrived, she wanted it to last much longer than its disappointing twenty-four hour limit.

But not today.

Today, she ripped through her presents. Today, she ate as quickly as she possibly could. Today, she chatted and hugged and celebrated, because she was happy. It still was her favorite day. But she also couldn’t wait until she could safely make an exit without garnering suspicion or hurting anybody’s feelings.

It took fucking forever.

For. Ever.

But it finally came.

Six o’clock. That’s the time she’d given herself, because Keegan had texted that she’d be over by seven. She pushed her chair back from the dining room table where she was watching her grandmother, her mom, her grandmother’s friend Angelo, and her uncle Jack playing poker. She’d folded long ago, then bowed out, asking just to watch. Mostly because she couldn’t concentrate on the game knowing she was going to be seeing Keegan before long.

“All right. I’m heading across the street.” She said it firmly, hoping her tone would prohibit any argument.

“Okay, honey,” her mom said, not looking up from her hand of cards.

“Thanks for losing to us,” Angelo teased, then tossed her a wink.

“Come over tomorrow morning for French toast and mimosas, if you’d like,” her grandmother said. “There will be plenty.” Hulk was crashed out on the floor at her feet, apparently exhausted from his first Christmas with the Sorensons.

She went around the table and gave everybody a squeeze, wished them Merry Christmas, told her grandma she’d grab her gifts tomorrow, and bent to give Hulk a kiss on his giant head. He barely opened his eyes. Then she stepped into her boots, donned her coat, and ran across the cul-de-sac to her own house, the whole time thanking her lucky stars that nobody had tried to guilt her into staying longer.

She’d done a small bit of cleaning that morning when she’d gotten up, but now she zipped around the house, putting things away, tossed a couple dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and turned on some instrumental holiday music on the speaker. Then she opened a bottle of pinot noir to let it breathe, and also put a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge. ’Cause options.

A glance at her watch told her it was six fifty. She ran upstairs and decided to leave her jeans on but changed her shirt, pulling off her Christmas hoodie with the big Rudolph on the front and exchanging it for a white tank top and a red-and-green flannel button-down, which she left open. Still Christmassy, but a tiny bit neater than the hoodie. She gave her teeth a quick brush and tidied her hair, then went back into the bedroom for a spritz of her favorite scent.

Headlights waved through across the ceiling and then off.

“Oh God, she’s here.”

She said the words into the empty room, feeling that funny, fluttery feeling in her stomach—that combination of excitement and anxiety. She swallowed down the nerves, gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, and headed down to the front door, then pulled it open.

Keegan stood there, looking red-cheeked and gorgeous in her white coat and green hat. Her eyes sparkled, her hair hung down from the hat, and her smile was wide.

In one hand, she held a bag. In the other, one end of a leash.

“Merry Christmas, Sammi.”

At the other end of the leash was Beckett. His whole body started to wag when he saw her.

“What? Oh my God. Oh my God! Hi, buddy! Hi! Hi! Hi!” She knelt right down in the entryway, not caring if her knees got wet, and wrapped her arms around the dog, who was wiggling so much with excitement that it was hard to hold on to him. She finally looked up at Keegan. “I don’t understand.” Then she pushed to her feet. “And God, I’m sorry, come in. It’s cold out.”

She ushered Keegan and Beckett into the house, and Beckett seemed to know he needed to be on his best behavior. Keegan handed over the leash while she took her coat and hat off, and Beckett stayed close, gazing up at her like he’d never seen anything more wonderful in his entire doggie life.

Keegan hung her things up, and when she finally met Sammi’s eyes again, Sammi raised her eyebrows. Keegan’s smile was warm and sweet and it did things to Sammi. “He’s yours,” Keegan said simply.

“He’s…” She looked at Keegan in disbelief.

“He’s yours. I got tired of waiting for you to pull the trigger on something you so obviously wanted but were too hesitant to grab, so I grabbed him for you.” She petted Beckett’s big square head. “I ran it by your mom first, just to make sure it wasn’t a mistake. I almost asked your grandma, but—no offense to her—your mom seems to be the more practical one.”

Sammi laughed at that. “Facts. And no wonder she didn’t try to get me to stay longer tonight,” Sammi said, but she couldn’t be mad at the charade. “She knew he was coming.”

“She did.”

“I was at the shelter yesterday with Grams, and I went to say hi to Beckett and saw the adopted sign on his kennel. I’m pretty sure I actually felt my heart crack.”

Keegan frowned. “Oh God, I’m sorry about that.”

Sammi waved it off with a pfft. “Doesn’t matter, ’cause it’s okay now.” She got down on her knees so she could look Beckett in his soft brown eyes. “Hey, buddy. You wanna live here? With me?”

The dog wagged his whole body again, and Sammi unclipped the leash.

“Okay. Go explore. Please don’t pee on stuff.” She glanced up at Keegan. “But if you do, it’s okay. We’ll work on it.” She stood back up, and they watched the dog slowly walk around the living room, sniffing things here, sniffing things there. He kept looking back, as if making sure Sammi hadn’t gone anywhere. She turned to Keegan and felt a sudden lump in her throat. “Thank you, Keegan,” she said softly. “So, so much.”

Keegan grabbed her arm and leaned in to her. “You are so welcome.”

“I got you a little something, too, but it pales in comparison,” Sammi said with a soft chuckle.

“I’m just happy I’m here, to be honest.”

Sammi met her gaze. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. First time in my life I wanted Christmas Day to go faster.”

Sammi barked a laugh. “Same.”

“Really?”

“You have no idea.” They watched Beckett for another moment. “He’s doing really well.”

“He is. You should show him his new yard.”

“Oh, good idea.”

They walked to the back door together.

* * *

Adopting a dog for somebody else was a risk. Keegan had known that. But seeing the longing in Sammi’s eyes every time she was with Beckett, it was so clear they were meant for each other. She’d actually adopted him a while back, just to be safe and to make sure nobody else snapped him up before Sammi finally made the decision to take him home.

She hadn’t expected it to take so long.

Sammi was a person who needed a nudge every now and then. Keegan was learning this about her. And her mom had confirmed it when she’d called to ask about the dog.

“My daughter is one of the smartest, kindest, gentlest souls I know,” Maggie had said. “But sometimes, she needs a little kick in the behind to get her moving.” She’d said it with a laugh and a tone of great affection, and it had been a huge help in getting Keegan to take the chance. And getting Beckett out of the shelter on Christmas Day had also taken some favors.

But here they were.

And the smile on Sammi’s face, the utter delight in everything about her, told Keegan it had been exactly the right thing to do. Sammi had slipped on her coat and boots and had run out into the snow, Beckett bounding behind her, and now Keegan stood inside the sliding glass door and watched them bounce and play and roll around like two small children having the time of their lives.

She’d helped herself to the wine Sammi had breathing on the counter, and now she sipped it through her smile. While she’d expected to be happy about bringing Beckett and Sammi together, she found herself feeling downright giddy as she watched them. Sammi was flat on her back in the snow, Beckett barking and bouncing around her. She didn’t think his nubby tail had stopped wagging his entire back end since they’d arrived and he saw Sammi. The two of them were meant for each other.

Was it the same for her and Sammi?

Wait a minute…Slow down there, skippy. She smiled at her own racing thoughts. Why was life so complicated? Why was love so complicated? And at the use of the L-word, she slammed the door on those racing thoughts. So not ready for that. Big yikes.

She busied herself with unloading the bag she’d brought. It contained some dog bowls, a small amount of dog food, the blanket Beckett slept on in the shelter, and a couple of toys. She figured Sammi could figure out the details of how she wanted to care for her new dog, but this stuff would tide her over. She laid a placemat down in a corner of the dining room, filled one of the bowls with water, and set both bowls on the mat. She tossed the toys into the center of the living room and draped the blanket over a chair, not sure where Sammi would want Beckett to sleep.

The sliding glass door slid open, and Beckett came bounding in, making Keegan wonder if that was going to be his method of transport from here on out: bounding. He did some zoomies around the living room, his tongue hanging out.

“I don’t think he’s happy at all,” Keegan said.

Sammi was out of breath, her cheeks rosy, her smile huge. She toed off her boots and slipped her coat off, draping it over a chair, then crossed to Keegan without preamble and wrapped her in a tight hug. When she finally let go, she met Keegan’s gaze and held it for several seconds before saying softly, “Thank you, Keegan. This—he—is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Keegan straightened up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” And then Sammi took her face in both hands and kissed her. Soundly. Thoroughly. Softly, but not. Demandingly, but not. Just as Keegan was letting herself melt into it, Sammi pulled back. Still holding her face, she asked, “Was that okay?”

Keegan tried to speak, but her voice was hiding. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Um. Yes. Very. Very okay.”

Sammi’s grin was a knowing one, but all she said was, “Good.”

Keegan tipped her head and watched for a moment, then poured a glass of wine for Sammi. She took the glass and her own into the living room where Beckett was now lying on his side on the carpet, breathing heavily. As soon as he saw Keegan, his nubby tail started to wag, but he didn’t get up. “I think you sufficiently wiped him out.”

“For now,” Sammi said, her expression comically ominous. She indicated the couch. “Wanna sit?”

Keegan nodded, handed her the wine, and took a seat.

“You want something to eat? I have some cheese and crackers, some chips…”

“Oh God, no.” Keegan held up a hand and waved. “I ate so much at my mom’s. I’m gonna be full for a week.”

“I feel you. My grandmother made a ham and a roast, mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes, four different pies…” Sammi dropped her head onto the back of the couch. “So. Much. Food.”

That sat silently for a beat or two, sipping wine and watching Beckett’s heaving breaths level off until they were normal and he was asleep.

“I don’t think he’s comfortable here at all,” Keegan said, giving Sammi a bump with her shoulder.

Sammi shook her head. “I still can’t believe you did this.”

Keegan lifted a shoulder. “You needed a nudge.”

“I did. It’s true. I tend to overthink things.”

She gasped. “What? Overthink? You?”

“Ha ha. You’re very funny.”

Keegan leaned in to her as they laughed, and this time, she stayed close, liking the feel of Sammi’s body propping hers up. Sammi felt warm, strong, and solid, and Keegan had let a happy little sigh slip out before she’d realized it.

“I like that sound,” Sammi said quietly.

“Do you?”

“I do. It sounded content. Relaxed. That’s what I want you to be with me.”

“Well, I am. Right now.”

“Good.”

There was another moment of quiet, and then Sammi started to laugh softly. It grew in volume until she was laughing outright.

“What?” Keegan said and couldn’t help her own smile. “What’s so funny?”

“We are,” Sammi said, laughing harder. “Look at us. We’re ridiculous. We have danced around each other for a year. A year. We like each other. We have chemistry. We’re good together. Yet the second your feelings got big, you freaked out and ran away. And better yet, I didn’t chase you down. What is wrong with us?” She was laughing so hard now that her eyes were wet. “You adopted me a dog for Christmas, for God’s sake!”

Keegan’s laughter was soft, but in minutes, it grew because, holy shit, Sammi was absolutely right. She was so right. They were officially ridiculous. And they were cracking up. Together.

Beckett lifted his head from the floor where he had sprawled and looked at the two of them like they were a couple of weirdos, which only made them laugh harder, falling against each other, tears streaming down faces. It was all so silly and so hilarious, and Keegan felt like she could breathe again for the first time in literal months.

It took a few minutes more for them to collect themselves, for the laughter to die down to chuckles and then finally stop. They still leaned against each other, sitting back on the couch and looking at the sparkling lights on Sammi’s tree.

“I’d like to give this another try,” Keegan said quietly. She wasn’t nervous about saying it, surprisingly. She turned to meet Sammi’s gaze. “What do you think?”

“I think you know that I would also like to give this another try.”

Keegan sighed happily. “Good.”

“But listen.” Sammi turned so she was facing Keegan now, and her expression was serious. “If you feel weird or scared or freaked out in any way, you have to talk to me. Okay? None of this leaving in the middle of a make-out session never to be heard from again.”

Keegan grinned sheepishly. “That’s an exaggeration, but okay.”

“It’s not much of an exaggeration,” Sammi muttered, turning back to face front, and Keegan laughed.

She reached for Sammi, put a hand on her upper arm until their eyes met again. “That’s a fair request. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask.”

They were quiet, the only sound in the room that of Beckett’s snores. “Clearly, he hates it here,” Keegan said with a grin.

“Yeah, this is a disaster,” Sammi deadpanned. “Obviously, I’ll need to return him.”

They laughed softly together, and then grew quiet again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. At some point, they shifted positions so that Keegan sat with her back against the arm of the couch, and Sammi leaned back against her. They had a perfect view of the tree, its multicolored lights twinkling in the night. Sammi reached for a small remote on the coffee table and clicked it, turning off the lamp in the corner, so the tree was the only light in the room.

It was beautiful.

The tree, the quiet, Beckett’s gentle snorfles from the floor, Sammi in her arms…if she could have stayed right here in this moment forever, Keegan wouldn’t have been sad about it.

It was beautiful.

And this Christmas? It was perfect.