Happily Letter After(65)

“Not too many, but a few. He’s only ever made small talk with the ones he’s met before. It’s really unlike him to be so meddlesome.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’m sure hearing I’ve been married and have a daughter gave him reason for concern. Can’t say I blame him. It’s hard to even imagine a day when I couldn’t protect my daughter anymore.”

“I guess. Though I don’t think it really had anything to do with you having been married or there being a Birdie.”

“No?”

“I think he just saw something he’d never seen with me before.”

“What’s that?”

I bit my lip, thinking maybe I’d said too much. Sebastian noticed and stopped rubbing my foot.

“Talk to me. What is it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing bad. I think he just . . . saw the possibility of a future for me with someone.”

Sebastian’s eyes looked back and forth between mine. “Smart man. I see the same thing. There’s a future here, sweetheart.”

A future here.

Sweetheart.

I let his words seep through me, enjoying the warmth in my chest that spread to my fingertips and toes. A huge smile spread across my face.

Sebastian crooked one finger at me. “Come here, smiley.”

I sat up and inched closer to him on the couch.

He cupped both of my cheeks, and his eyes roamed my face for a long time before he sealed his lips over mine. Emotions bubbled to the surface as we kissed. I started to get lost in the moment. Until a voice snapped us both back to reality.

“Daddy . . .”



“I better get going.”

Birdie had woken up from a noise outside her window, and she’d caught us making out on the couch. If it had bothered her, she definitely hid it well. Sebastian bribed her with a cookie to go back to bed, and she asked if I would tuck her in, which I did.

Sebastian groaned. “I hate this.”

“Me too. But we have to set an example for her.”

“Can’t we just sneak you out before she gets up?”

I pushed up on my toes and planted a kiss on his lips. “She’s a smart girl. I don’t think it would take too long for her to figure things out.”

Sebastian hung his head and pouted. “Fine. I’ll call the damn Uber.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want a night, a whole one. One where I get to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up and roll over and slip inside you. I’m going to ask Magdalene if she can stay over one night soon.”

I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

A few minutes later, the Uber arrived and Sebastian opened the door. “Hey,” he said, grabbing my hand as I went to walk out.

I backed up. “Yeah?”

“I’m crazy about you.”

My insides melted to a pile of mush. “I’m crazy about you, too.”





CHAPTER 23

SEBASTIAN

The following morning, my daughter seemed like she was expecting to see Sadie.

Her eyes were groggy when she walked into the kitchen and asked, “Is Sadie here?”

I put down my coffee. “No, honey. She went home last night.”

“Oh. I was hoping she would make me another green monster.”

“You really like that shake she made the other day, huh? You weren’t just saying that to be nice?”

“No. I loved it!”

“Want me to make it for you?” I winked. “I think I can handle it.”

“Yes, please.”

I swiftly got up. “You got it. One green monster coming right up.”

Birdie looked preoccupied as she sat on one of the stools by the counter.

“Everything alright?” I said as I reached for the blender.

“I think Santa brought Sadie to us.”

Her comment caught me off guard. I paused, unable to concentrate on gathering the rest of the ingredients.

“Say what?”

“I never told you this . . . but I started writing to Santa back in June.”

Knowing the story behind who Santa actually was, I felt almost uncomfortable as Birdie was confessing this to me. She went on to tell the full story of all her letters to “Santa.” I was unsure what compelled her to admit it to me now.

“Anyway, I told Santa that I wanted a special friend. And I think Sadie is his last gift to me.”

I had to ask, “What makes you so sure that it’s Santa . . . and not just luck?”

“Well, Mommy believed in writing to him.”

Mommy?

“What do you mean?”

“The only reason I started writing to Santa was because Mommy used to read the letters that people wrote in to Santa. That’s why I first wrote to him—at the address in the magazines Mommy kept.”

“Your mother kept articles of people writing to Santa?”

“Yeah. You know that big box of dolls you gave me that used to be Mommy’s?”

“What about it?”

“That’s where the folder was. With all the Santa articles and stuff.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Do you still have it?”

Birdie nodded.