the scooped out potato skins and placing the large sheet into the upper oven, his mom turned to watch him. He set the clean bowl onto the drying rack next to the sink and faced her, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Just say it, Mom, whatever you're thinking."
She smiled and reached up to pat his cheek. "I wish she'd have come, too, but she's not your girlfriend, and she's not your wife. If she's not ready to jump in with both feet, that's okay. It's time to pull your head out of your ass and enjoy Christmas with your family."
Tate laughed, but rubbed at his heart. "Really, Mom, please don't hold back because you're afraid to hurt my feelings."
Her returning smile was small, and not apologetic in the least. "Set the table, oh middle son of mine. When Casey's off the phone with Jake, she can help."
There was a soft knock on the front door just as Tate set the stack of dinner plates on the dining room table.
"Can you grab that?" his mom called from the kitchen.
"You need me to make the rest of the meal while I'm at it?" Tate yelled back while he walked through the dining room to the front door. "Maybe shovel the driveway? Wrap the rest of the presents?"
He was grinning at the response that was shouted back at him when he pulled the door open. And then he just stared.
Rachel stood there under the brightness of the porch light, holding a small red and green gift bag, looking nervous and beautiful and well ... beautiful was the only other thing he could think of just then.
"Merry Christmas," she said and stepped forward so that the light was behind her now, making her hair look like it was about to go up in flames. "I hope it's okay that I'm just showing up like this."
Something. He knew he should be saying something, but everything was stuck in his throat that had mysteriously closed up. Thankfully, he had enough presence of mind to step back and let her come through the door. By the time he'd shut the door behind her, Rachel had pulled off her coat and was hanging it in the hallway closet. He wanted to ask her if she was sick, or if her feet were swollen, or if she'd thought about sleeping on the bathroom floor because she was too tired. Instead, Tate rubbed a hand across his mouth and kept staring like an idiot. The bright green of her sweater made her hair look even more vibrant, and it was tight enough across every single perfectly proportioned curve that he had no chance in hell of not looking at her in ways that were probably inappropriate. And she was there. Beyond whatever she'd chosen to wear, or if she was sick, she was there. That was more than enough to make him feel a tad bit out of control.
"Okay, you need to say something because I'm kind of freaking out over here and your stoic silence isn't exactly helping matters."
While he had the advantage that no one else had realized she was there yet, he moved on instinct and stepped next to her, setting one hand on her slightly curved belly. Her eyes closed and she turned towards him, covering his hand with one of hers, still cold from being outside. Wrapping his other arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into him and set his chin onto the crown of all that bright hair.
"Merry Christmas," he said quietly, her hair tickling his mouth. She smelled like cinnamon. "Thank you for coming."
They stood there, just like that for a few long, wonderful moments. He felt her release a shuddering breath, and it made him smile a little. He liked to think that he wasn't the only one who felt thrown off.
Stepping back just enough that he had to stop touching her, she gave him a one-sided smile. "Yeah well, just remember how generous you're feeling when I make you go clean off and start my car for me when I'm ready to leave."
"Rachel!" His mom cried as she came around the corner, wiping her hands on a towel. She wrapped Rachel in a tight hug. Pulling back, she cupped one side of Rachel’s face and smiled. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I'm so glad you could make it."
"Thank you for having me," Rachel replied, eyes flicking back to Tate.
"You're family; you never need an invitation. Now, you help Tate finish setting the