Zane and I are naked and entwined when the loud pounding on the hotel suite’s door startles us awake. My eyelids flutter as I try to make sense of where I am and what day it is.
Gran’s voice shouts, “Merry Christmas Eve! Unplug from each other and get out here. We’re going out for breakfast.”
I bug my eyes out at Zane and ask, “It’s already Christmas Eve?”
I hadn’t realized we’d spent so much time locked away in this room, only taking breaks from ravaging each other for room service and sleep.
Zane says, “I had the feeling it had been a few days. I’m worn out, but in such a wonderful way.”
I chuckle at him before scurrying to grab a robe and tossing Zane’s pants to him. Once we’re both relatively decent, I fling the door open and hiss at Gran, “Keep your voice down. There are other guests here.”
She flicks her wrist at me before saying, “Pshaw. Everyone here has probably heard you two boning into the wee hours of the night, anyway.”
“Gran!” I glare at her, but when I turn and see the amused look on Zane’s face, I reluctantly admit, “Probably.”
Gran lets out a giddy giggle over my naughty admission.
Dad chooses this moment to peek his head around the corner of the hallway and ask, “What’s taking so long? I’m hungry.”
“They were buck naked,” Gran tells him matter-of-factly.
I cringe over having my dad hear this, even though he knows I’m pregnant.
At my perturbed look in her direction, Gran raises her thin shoulders before saying, “What? You were. I don’t blame you. If I had this hunk alone in a hotel room, I’d be naked with him, too.”
This time, it’s Zane’s turn to wince, but he has the decency to look away, so he doesn’t hurt her feelings.
Not sensing that she’s said anything inappropriate, Gran says loud enough for my dad to overhear, “You two get dressed. Your Dad’s buying breakfast.”
“I didn’t say that,” he mutters.
I grin at the two of them, suddenly appreciating their good-natured bickering.
“We’ll be right out,” Zane promises before gently shutting the door in Gran’s face.
She yells through the closed door, “No more banging before breakfast. I’m wasting away out here.”
“You have my word,” Zane tells her.
His response seems to appease her because we hear her shuffling down the hallway and griping at my dad.
Once we’re closed back into the room with some privacy, Zane leans in and gives me a toe-curling kiss that tempts me to skip breakfast with my family. But he sounds excited when he pulls back and asks, “Is Christmas Eve breakfast one of your family traditions? My family doesn’t have many traditions around the holidays, except for long-suffering sighs and fancy gifts that get returned on December 26th.”
“That’s sad,” I murmur as I run a brush through my sex-tousled hair.
“It’s okay. I get to be a part of your wacky family now.” Walking up behind me to place a flat palm on my belly, he adds, “And we’ll make some of our own holiday traditions with peanut.”
“Yes,” I agree before saying, “We’d better get going before Gran comes back and wakes up everyone in the entire hotel.”
My parents and Gran have piled into the back of our rental Jeep. Gran looks like a small child sitting in the middle. Dad points that out when he asks, “Should we get you a booster seat?”
She smacks at his chest, making him emit an “Oof!” sound before saying, “Being petite is better than being a big oaf, like you.”
“Any chance the two of you could try to get along through the holidays?” My mother asks in a long-suffering tone.
“What fun would that be?” Gran asks, which makes my mother huff out a frustrated breath in response.
After Zane wheels the Jeep onto the road, he smiles at Gran’s reflection in the rearview mirror. I turn to grin at her, too. At least things are never boring when she’s around.
She only has eyes for Zane when she says, “I’ve been told I’m a bit of a spitfire, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Zane says, “Oh, I see you, Gran, and I think you’re fabulous.”
Dad lets out a disbelieving sound, but Gran ignores him as she preens and fluffs her silver curls.
Once we’re seated at the bustling restaurant, we all order the holiday special: banana-nut pancakes, bacon, and coffee.
Gran points at another table where the occupants are laughing and obviously enjoying themselves. “Those three young couples look like fun. Perhaps you and Zane should go introduce yourselves, then you can move down here permanently, and you’d already have a friend group.”
“This isn’t the playground, Gran. I don’t think that’s quite how adult friendships work.”
Lifting her shoulders, she asks me, “Why not?”
Ignoring her question, I say, “Besides, I already have friends at my permanent home in Indianapolis.”
“About that…” Zane says, before shifting nervously in the red booth.
The blood drains from my head. This is the moment I’ve been dreading since Zane and I first hooked up––this time around.
Zane turns to face me as he says, “I wasn’t just stalking you in Indianapolis.”
My father leans forward, suddenly interested in Zane’s words.
Seeming unaffected by Dad’s open glaring, Zane continues, “My family’s company has decided to build a hotel in Indy, so I’ll be there for a while to oversee the construction and grand opening.”
Relief floods my system, until the full message sinks in. I repeat the concerning portion in a flat tone, “For a while?”
“Yes,” he answers. Taking both of my hands within his, he adds, “I know you like your job at the jewelry store, but would you consider coming to work for us? We could incorporate jewelry boutiques into each of our properties. You could control the entire thing, including the pieces we carry.”
Zane grabs his phone to show me some sketched ideas of potential store layouts as if he needs to talk me into his marvelous plan. “These are just rough drafts. You can take the project and run with it. We’ll do whatever you want, but it does mean travelling around to our various properties with me to get them up and running. I picture the Alexander hotel chain being known for our exclusive turn-down service, signature-scented toiletries, and Holly’s unique jewelry designs. What do you think?”
His voice sounds nervous when he asks the question, so I answer immediately with a question of my own, “How soon can I start?”
“Right away,” he answers. His eyes sparkle with joy over my enthusiasm about his idea.
“Yee-haw!” Gran shouts, drawing attention from several other diners. Ignoring the strange looks she’s receiving, she scrunches up her wrinkled face and asks no one in particular, “Or is it hee-haw?”
When we fail to answer she shrugs and says, “Either way, this calls for a celebration.” In a voice loud enough for everyone around us to hear, she yells, “Mimosas all-around!”
Mother says firmly, “Just juice for the pregnant lady.”
Gran’s loud proclamation, brings claps and excited squeals from several of the other patrons. She beams and points at Dad to announce, “He’s buying.”
Dad shakes his head and mutters, “You’re ridiculous. I think it’s about time for us to move you into a facility.”
“I’m not going into one of those places.” She narrows her glassy eyes at him. Suddenly, her expression softens and she says, “Besides, you know you love me, you old fuddy-duddy.”
“Perhaps… If love feels exactly like heartburn,” Dad answers.
Ignoring that, Gran brightens with an idea. “Let’s open our presents early!”
My mother is already shaking her head before the entire sentence is out of Gran’s mouth. “You always try this. We open presents Christmas morning, not on Christmas Eve. I swear, you’re worse than a young child.”
“Well, I’m not a child,” Gran pouts before shifting gears. “In fact, I’m an old woman. Every day you get with me is precious, and you should appreciate every moment. I may not make it until tomorrow.”
“We should be so lucky,” Dad mutters, but his eyes are dancing with secret amusement over Gran’s antics.
Gran continues as if she hasn’t heard Dad, which is quite possible. “We better open presents today, just in case.”
Mom looks exasperated as she says, “Oh, all right. We’ll open presents when we get home, but this means you won’t have any to open tomorrow.”
The warning does nothing to quell Gran’s excitement as she bounces in her seat and begins trying to guess what her gifts are.
I lean over to whisper to Zane, “Are you sure you want to join this crazy family?”
“Absolutely positive,” he answers, giving me a loving look.
When Gran finally figures out that she isn’t going to be given any hints about her presents, she turns to Zane to say, “I can’t wait for you to open your gift from me. I hope you like sexy boxer briefs.”
Zane’s wide, mildly terrified eyes lock with mine just before we both burst out with joyous laughter over the ridiculous woman.
Turning serious, he says to me, “Our lives will certainly never be boring. I’m so delighted to get to spend my happily-ever-after ending with you and our child.”
“Me too,” I agree, just before we seal it with a long-lasting, breath-stealing kiss.
Some small portion of my consciousness hears my father let out a disgusted huff of breath, just before he yells, “Check, please!”
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Did you find the Easter Egg hidden in this first epilogue? The trio of lovely ladies with their partners at a nearby table during breakfast were Fern, Marina, and Trixie. They share all the secrets of their wild and wonderful lives in their diaries. Go ahead, take a peek! Get The Keys to my Diary Series from your favorite e-book retailer here: