It was December 23rd and the whole town looked beautiful in all of its festive glory.

Quite frankly though, as I walked around the grocery store and filled up my cart, I found myself quite sick of the holiday tunes – especially considering they started playing it everywhere in the middle of November.

After loading up the backseat of my truck with groceries I made a quick stop to buy some presents for Carly's family and our friends. We already had the majority of them already wrapped and ready to go, but Carly's pregnancy hormones were apparently making her really generous.

It didn't take too long to get everything I needed. I sent Carly a text when I got back in the truck letting her know I was on my way back, making sure she didn't need anything else while I was here.

As an afterthought I decided to stop and grab some coffee – decaf for Carly – then made my way back home, humming Jingle Bells to myself as I went.

"I'll jingle your fuckin' bells," I muttered, annoyed.

At this time last year I was in Afghanistan; for most it didn't feel much like Christmas over there, away from loved ones, but for me that was about as close to Christmas as I ever got. Before that, if I happened to be in the States during the holidays, then really it was just business as usual for me.

Indeed, I never really got in the habit of celebrating Christmas, not in the way most people do. Growing up in foster care, I never stayed in one place long enough to really get used to the holidays and all of the fuss that came along with it. Some foster families decorated a little, some even got us a couple presents, but it was never anything really special. This year was different though; I was making all of these plans with Carly and it felt a little strange... a good kind of strange.

What was even stranger was the idea that next Christmas I'd be playing Santa Claus for a six month old.

Things would be different from now on. My kid was going to know what Christmas was supposed to be all about. He or she was going to know what it was like to be loved and cared for, and to have the whole family together on December 25th. My kid would never have to go through what I'd gone through and that was a promise I was desperate to keep.

"Hey babe, you got the sugar?" Carly asked when I came into the kitchen.

Her hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, she didn't have a trace of make-up on and she was wearing one of my t-shirts with a pair of sweatpants. She was elbow-deep in Christmas baking and the smell alone when I walked through the door made my mouth water.

"I'll give ya some sugar," I drawled, dropping two large grocery bags onto the counter, the coffee tray and another bag with small presents, Christmas cards and gift cards. I came from behind and wrapped my arms around her middle, kissing her neck. "Hi," I smiled when she turned her face to the side to look at me.

"Hi," she laughed, turning on her heels so that we were facing each other. She lifted herself up on the tip of her toes and kissed me good and proper. "As much as I love your sugar, it won't work for these cookies," she giggled.

"I got it, no worries," I chuckled, crouching down so that I was level with her belly. I kissed it too and Carly giggled, running her fingers through my hair.

I looked up at her and grinned. She was entering her second trimester tomorrow and although I knew she wasn't nearly as big as she was going to get, I was already astounded by the little bump.

"How's the little cookie monster been doin'? Been goin' easy on your mama?" I asked her belly before standing back up again so that I could help her unload the groceries, leaving the sugar she needed out onto the counter and the rest in the fridge or the pantry.

"Oh it's been a pretty quiet day so far," Carly laughed.

"Quiet's good," I grinned.

I was glad she wasn't getting sick that often anymore; it was hard to watch her feel so bad and not be able to do a thing to help out. Once or twice every now and then she'd get a sudden bout of nausea, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be when we first found out about the baby.

"Alright, put me to work," I said, slapping my hands together and looking around at the kitchen, which looked like it'd been through a pastry twister. Cookies were cooling, another batch was in the oven, she was working on a third and there was still a whole cake left to be made and two pumpkin pies.

I was pretty sure she was overdoing it just a little, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. Pregnancy hormones were brutal, especially on the dad.

Christmas was always such a big deal for my family; it was a big party from December 24th, right up until New Year's. I had so many fond memories of music, presents, food, laughter, drunken uncles and kids wanting to stay up way past their bedtimes.

When my mama died a few years ago things changed a lot. The first Christmas was hard, and then the second was a little easier to bear. Then, just as things were finally starting to feel normal again my daddy died. It'd be the second Christmas without him and I was trying really hard not to be too emotional.

"Are you okay?" John whispered. He was standing behind me in front of my vanity mirror on Christmas Eve, helping me put on my mama's necklace.

"They're never gonna see me pregnant... or get to meet their first grandchild," I told his reflection. "My mama would've loved bein' a grandmother," I added sadly.

"I know," John said, kissing the top of my head.

"My dad would've come around too, eventually," I went on, smiling a little as I imagined his reaction to the news that he'd be a grandfather for the first time. I used to wonder how he'd react to me and John, but the more time passed, the more I wanted to believe he would've been okay with our relationship. He would've seen the way John looks at me and the way he's been there for me through so much. He would've absolutely loved his grandchild, and he would've loved John like a son.

"Yeah, after gettin' done with filletin' me bone per bone," John smirked.

"He liked and respected you, he wouldn't have been that harsh," I giggled, brushing away a stray tear that was threatening to ruin my make-up.

"I'm not holdin' it against him. I'd fillet the guy that went and knocked up our daughter too if he was anythin' like me," John pointed out.

"Oh gosh, don't start talkin' like that," I laughed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. He fell back on the bed and I climbed into his lap. "Let's just think about walkin' and talkin' for now, leave datin' for the very distant future," I added.

"Good plan," John chuckled as he dragged me down on top of him so that our lips could meet. "It reminds me though, if we have a girl, I'll have to invest in a shotgun," he added.

"Oh God, you're gonna be that dad, aren't you?" I laughed.

"You know it," he smirked.

He started kissing me and for a blissful moment I forgot where we were and where we were supposed to be in half an hour's time. I pulled at his lip with my teeth, teasing him a little before breaking the kiss completely, looking down at him.

"We're gonna be late," I told him, my fingers tracing patterns on his collar bone.

"Then we'll be late," he drawled, running his hands up and down my arms. "We can blame it on Cookie Monster," he added devilishly.

"You can't just go blamin' the baby every time you wanna get away with somethin'," I giggled, swatting his hand away when he attempted to pull off my shirt.

"Fine, your loss," he shrugged, twisting his hips around so that I fell onto the bed next to him. He was on top of me in a flash, straddling my hips and giving me a taste of what could've been. He kissed me softly... and then pulled away all too quickly "Alright, let's go, we're gonna be late," he said as he made his way back onto his feet.

Oh my God, he was so freaking annoying!

A little reluctantly I finished getting ready and helped him pack the truck with Tupperware containers filled with all of the baking I'd done the day before, as well as Christmas presents for everyone we were seeing tonight. We were heading over to Maisy's mother's place, and then tomorrow we'd be having dinner with my Uncle Scott, my cousin Dale and a few other relatives from my dad's side of the family.

"I haven't seen Maisy all week," I said excitedly as we got in the truck and buckled ourselves in. "Did you see the photo she posted on Facebook last night? She's gettin' so huge! It's like a sneak peek of how big I'll be gettin' in a month," I gushed.

"I don't do Facebook," John chuckled.

"That's a lie, I totally know you steal my phone and check it," I smirked, sneaking him a glance from the corner of my eye. I didn't mind, really, especially since he knew I uploaded quite a few pictures of the both of us on there, and as of recently a few baby updates too.

"You should stop leavin' your phone lyin' around, the temptation is so real," he smirked back, our eyes meeting for a brief second before his returned to the road. He was silent for a while. "Nice selfies by the way," he added slyly.

I rolled my eyes and blushed furiously, hating my body for still getting this reaction around him even after seven months of dating.