A Beaumont Family Christmas
Harrison rests his hand firmly on my leg, and my hand moves to his in an instant, clutching it tightly. I love this man more than words, and if it wasn’t for him, I’m not sure where I’d be in life. I look over at him. He’s focused on the road, keeping a steady pace with the traffic. We’re on our way to the hanger, where our children will be waiting for us, and where we’ll introduce the very quiet bundle of joy to them. There isn’t a doubt in my mind the twins will be over the moon in love with our-yet-to-be named little boy. It’s Quinn who I worry about the most. He’s always been our only son, the only brother. I can’t imagine at his age what he’s going to think of this new little guy. I lean toward the middle of the console, wishing I could see the baby or had sat in the back with him. I almost did until Harrison told me to let him sleep. He was right. Had I sat back there, I would’ve touched his cheeks, lips, and adjusted the blanket covering him, which would’ve surely woken him.
“We’re almost there,” Harrison says. I glance out the front and notice very little traffic heading toward the airport.
“You’d think more people would be traveling right now.”
“Probably next week, a little closer to Christmas.”
He reminds me that I need to text Jenna. I pull out my phone and ask her if the packages arrived. She responds with a picture of her holding a coffee mug with the fireplace in the background.
“What is it?” Harrison asks.
“Oh, nothing. Jenna’s sitting by the fire and enjoying a cup of coffee.”
Harrison laughs. “I’m willing to bet there’s some Bailey’s in there, and she probably loves the peace and quiet.”
“You’re probably right. How do you think Eden is doing on the slopes?”
“Knowing her, she’s probably a natural.”
“Once again, you’re probably right.”
Harrison signals to turn into the parking lot of the hotel, and my stomach seizes. He must sense my anxiety building because he tells me everything will be fine. After he parks, he pulls out his phone and tells the kids to all meet in Peyton’s room, that we’ll be there in a moment.
“What if they’re mad?”
“They won’t be,” he says, although I don’t find his words reassuring, just pointed.
Harrison gets out first and must-see my hesitation because he has my door open and is unbuckling my seatbelt so he can pull me into his arms. When he releases me, his hand cups my cheek, and he looks into my eyes. “We have the most amazing kids we could ever ask for. I think, if anything, they’ll be concerned for us and the lack of sleep we’re going to get for a few months and the legal battle we’ll face when we go to adopt him. I know they’ll be supportive and will fall completely in love with him.” He nods toward the back. “I also know, they’re expecting us, and they know something is up. If we don’t get up there soon, one of them is bound to come looking for us.”
“I’m about to say you’re right, but I have a feeling you already know this,” I quip.
Harrison kisses my forehead, and I feel his lips forming into a smile. When he pulls away, the grin is from ear to ear. “As I’ve said many, many times over the years, I plug into greatness every night.” He winks at his sexual innuendo and leaves me sitting there. I’m stunned by his comment and shouldn’t be. I’m used to the things he says, inappropriate or not.
He opens the back door and grabs the car seat from the base, and carries it effortlessly as we head into the hotel. After a quick elevator ride, we’re standing outside Peyton’s room. Before either of us knock, Harrison sets the carrier down on the floor, out of sight from the door.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “With my life.”
He knocks, and the door swings open. Peyton stands there, with her long chestnut hair cascading down her back, wearing a T-shirt that reads, “My Husband Goes Deep.” I blush at the wording, and while Harrison may not be her biological father, their humor is one and the same.
“You’re being weird. What’s going on?” she says before we have a chance to hug her or even say hi.
“Your mom and I have something to show you, but I need for the four of you to turn around, no peeking.”
Peyton sighs dramatically and then says, “Okay, you heard the man. Turn around.”
Elle and Quinn stand and turn around. We wait for Peyton to move closer to her siblings before working as a team to get the baby out of his carrier. With him in my arms and with Harrison standing next to me, we enter the room and stand behind our children.