Eli (Mallick Brothers 4)

"He must have snuck out while I was sleeping and put them out," I said, smiling at the pile, anticipation a happy, swirling thing in my belly.

"Oh!" Peyton gasped from where she had squatted down in front of them. "Half of these have my name on them! We officially share him now. He's half mine. You get the half that includes nudity. I don't like him that way. But the other half is all mine, damnit. One big poly family."

I laughed at that as she got back up and headed into the kitchen.

Some day, she was going to get a man of her own.

Until then, I was happy to share the non-nude parts of Eli with her. He already loved her as much as any of his sisters-in-law. And while she would never, ever admit it, she needed a man like him in her life. Someone safe, stable, loving, considerate. After our shitty, judgmental father and then her string of shitty partners, I was pretty sure she didn't even know what one of them was like.

He was good for her.

And he was great for me.

Oh, the heart squeeze.

I was getting really used to that.

I was no longer stepping into it; I was drowning in it.

Love.

And I never, ever wanted to surface.

"Alright, I'm hoping one of you guys got me a pair of noise-canceling headphones for next Christmas," Eli greeted us about forty minutes later, just as the potatoes, French toast, eggs, and bacon were finishing.

"Not our fault we weren't blessed with the note-carrying gene," Peyton insisted. "What we lack in skill, we make up for in enthusiasm."

"Sure about that?" he asked, giving her a hair tug as he passed her to grab the coffee. "This looks amazing."

"Can I open my presents?" Peyton asked, slamming down the last platter on the island. "Come on, you can't keep me in suspense like this!"

Eli shot me a look, eyes dancing, lips tipped up.

"One," we said in unison, making us both laugh because it was such a parent moment.

We hadn't exactly discussed that, it still being a somewhat new relationship. But judging by his family, and his determination to win the love of his nieces and nephews, he was going to want some kids of his own.

And we weren't getting any younger.

But those were thoughts for another day.

"No way!" Peyton shrieked, having, of course, chosen the book-sized package. She was holding up a copy of Die Muthafucka. "And it's signed!" she added, eyes huge. "How... I looked for months!"

"Santa must be really well connected," Eli hedged. I actually didn't even know how he pulled that one off.

After that, we all sat to eat in front of the TV, though Peyton was mostly re-reading her book since it had been discontinued in ebook, and she hadn't been able to track down a copy.

We opened the rest of our gifts after, Eli positively beaming at his ornament as he put it on the tree, having heard - and loved - our tradition when we put up the tree on December 1st.

"I'm just saying," Peyton said as we all went off to dress, "it would be much easier for me to eat today if I could just wear these pajamas!"

An hour later, we were dragging huge black bags full of gifts into the house, arriving twenty minutes earlier than the scheduled time along with all the other men to arrange all the gifts into sections to make unwrapping easier.

The full Santa experience, I realized as I stepped back into the kitchen since there was almost no floorspace in the living room once everyone was done.

"Totally, I can come be a taste-tester anytime," Peyton yelled back at Helen as she moved toward me with mashed potatoes on her spoon. At my raised brow, she shrugged. "What? I told her it needed more garlic. Geez. Holy shit," she said as she looked at the room. "And I bet there isn't one box full of fake, crawling spiders. What a waste."Eli - 2 months"You're overreacting," Autumn said, keeping her voice calm as I paced the living room.

"How the fuck am I overreacting about this?" I asked, turning to give her my full attention.

We hadn't had anything even resembling a fight yet, but I was seeing red over this, and she was calm as could be. Like there was anything even remotely normal about this situation.

"It's been going on for years and--"

"Years?" I cut her off, feeling my blood start to boil. "How the fuck have you put up with this for years?"

"If you would let me speak," she said in that ultra calm voice still. I wasn't sure if she was just always so calm in heated moments, or this was in response to my getting angry, worried I might lose it.

That was always a possibility, though I had started the boxing. Between that and the sex, yeah, my ass was staying practically zen-like most of the time.