Page 24 of Scrooged All The Way

DASHER

Five years later

My son walked into the living room with a smirk on his face. “Only you, Dad,” he muttered with an eyeroll.

“What?” I frowned, and I could tell my kid wanted to laugh. And honestly, who could blame him? I was a fifty-year-old man sitting at a tiny pink wooden table in the center of my seriously Christmas decorated living room.

“Are you seriously wearing a crown?” I stretched my legs that had started to stiffen with the way I sat.

“Shut it and sit down.” I pointed at the small pink wooden chair.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he scoffed as he took his coat off and tossed it onto the couch.

“Wanna bet?” I challenged. Before he could answer, my daughter’s voice sounded through the house.

“Randdyyy!” I watched my little blonde angel run and rush toward her big brother, who was already bending at the waist to pick her up. The sound of her boisterous laughter filled my heart as my son genuinely smiled at his little sister.

“Hey, Scout.”

“My name’s not Scout.” She laughed, and he tickled her belly. Aspen was a silly one.

“I know that, buddy.”

“It’s not buddy, either.” She giggled, and he playfully frowned.

“It’s not?” She shook her head. “Are you sure?” She crossed her arms over her chest with sass. It made the crown she wore tip over and almost fall. But her big brother came to the rescue as he fixed it.

“Okay, okay,” he groaned. “How are you, Aspen?”

“Great!” She grinned from ear to ear. “Dad and I were having a tea party. You need tea, too!” she demanded. I shot Randall a look.

“Tea sounds good,” he muttered. “Do you have cookies?”

“Yes!” She clapped. “And cinnarolls!” I watched my kid put my daughter down and take a seat next to hers.

Randy had changed.

A lot.

At the beginning, he had not taken the news of Juniper and me dating too well. But after the first time he came over for dinner when he was visiting his mom in Holly Burrows, he changed his tune. Right before our wedding, he shared that he was okay with Juniper and me after seeing how happy I could be. He almost didn’t believe how much I had changed.

The changes in my son were not instant.

He was still a workaholic in New York, making money hand over fist as if it was what kept him breathing, but he made time to visit for the holidays and made more than an effort to bond with his little sister. He called her every other day to check in and read her a bedtime story.

“How’s your mom, kiddo?”

“I’m great,” Juniper answered as she stepped out of the kitchen. I stood and grinned at my woman wearing Santa’s helper apron.

The thing was cute, but it wasn’t what had me trying to fight from getting hard. Fuck, being married to my wife made me feel like a twenty-something instead of a fifty-year-old man. I knew exactly what she was wearing underneath it, and I couldn’t wait to unwrap my wife once we got Aspen to bed. The Santa’s helper lingerie she’d worn when she showed up at my door late that night six years earlier made an appearance every holiday season, and I made sure to add to her collection.

“Are you thirsty or hungry, Randy? I just took out a batch of cinnamon rolls and have some mulled wine.”

“That sounds good, thank you.” I reached her and hugged her.

“Sit, I got it.” I kissed her on the cheek.

I still couldn’t believe my life.

I didn’t think I’d have the peace and joy I did, but fuck me, just being around my girl made things like breathing easier.

That was the beauty about the magic of love.

It could change the biggest of scrooges, make their hearts softer and able to grow.