The Sweetest Gift - Scarlett Cole Page 0,9

said and gestured to Lexi to join him. He hadn’t thought how he was going to say it. And god, Petal was staring straight at him. But he couldn’t wait. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”

“Cannonball,” shouted Lennon, and everyone laughed.

When the noise had abated, he tried again. “Shut up, Ron fucking Burgundy. I’m pregnant. Well, I’m not. I mean, Lexi is. So, we are… both of us. Fuck.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out the copies of the ultrasound. “Have these.”

For a moment, shock and silence filled the room and then the whole house erupted.

Elliott threw his free arm around Jordan’s neck and planted a loud smack on his cheek. “Fucking yes, Brother.”

Dred had swooped Lexi up into a twirl.

“Put her the fuck down, you’ll hurt her,” Jordan shouted.

Lexi laughed. “I’m fine.”

There was a queue of people. Hugs, back-slapping. An immediate cancel of a meeting that was nothing more than a formality. And he was embraced in a wave of love that seeped through his bones, even though he’d never quite figured out why his brothers felt he deserved the affection. But he’d learned to appreciate it, to embrace it, to return that love to the men and women who now surrounded him.

He looked over at Lexi, who was talking animatedly to Pixie and Georgia, and he realized he already had the greatest gift on earth.

He was the luckiest fucking man alive.

3

Cujo Matthews juggled the pile of packages in one hand and his keys in the other. He had less than twenty minutes before his wife was home and he had to hide the rest of her presents before she walked through the door. Trent had finished the painting he’d commissioned for her, an abstract piece inspired by their wedding photograph from Las Vegas. And he’d picked up the red-sole shoes she’d been looking at that cost a fucking fortune but made her legs look spectacular. Then there were the last-minute bits and pieces he’d picked up for her stocking. He’d also collected the custom paddleboards he had made for his nieces, Amaya and Zephyr.

It was slightly masochistic, but he loved the fervor of last-minute Christmas shopping. The mayhem, the carols, the bells, the overkill of Christmas decorations. He and Drea had a large tree in the living room, but he’d been given no say in the decorations beyond helping Drea wrap a billion lights around it. Still, it had given him time to check out her ass while he held the ladder steady.

He slid the bubble-wrapped artwork under the bed in the spare bedroom, and he hid the shoes behind a box of his sneakers on a shelf he was pretty sure his shortcake couldn’t even see, let alone reach. The nail polish, earrings, and candles were added to the bag of small gifts he’d hidden in the back of his T-shirt drawer.

Knowing she would walk through the door any minute, he ran a bath for her… a luxury she loved, but rarely had time to enjoy. He added a splash of her favorite bubble bath, the scent immediately reminding him of her.

When he was finished, he wandered back down the stairs to the fridge, tugged the door open to look inside, then closed it again. He moved to the kitchen island and pulled out one of the bar stools before taking a seat. The marble countertop was cool beneath his fingers. He reached for the notepad and pen that Drea used to keep an ongoing grocery list.

Napkins.

Cassava.

Gherkins.

Plantain.

With the pen, he added his own requirements.

Sex in the shower with hubby.

Morning blow job for hubby.

Cash in orgasm IOU with hubby.

He grinned at the thought of any of them happening. Drea had been consumed with her new job, and while he was prouder of her than he could express, he missed his wife. She’d finally graduated from the University of Miami’s journalism program earlier in the year, and now she was a junior assignment editor for WPLG, an affiliate in Pembroke Park. He’d willingly worked every hour he’d been able to keep them afloat, to pay her tuition, and keep the roof over their heads. All so she could graduate without loans. And she’d worked damn fucking hard to achieve the great grades she had. Now, she was starting the career of her dreams, and the pressure they’d been under was easing.

Cujo glanced down at his watch, given she’d texted him twenty minutes ago, it would be another five or ten before she walked in the door. He