Every Christmas Eve since Joey was born, my mind plays through The Night Before Christmas on repeat while I ready the house for the big reveal the next morning. Except this year, I'm not alone. Ash is beside me to set up presents, demolish the milk and cookies, and munch on enough carrot sticks to make real reindeer jealous.

Tomorrow evening, Tejinder and his family are coming for dinner. While they don't celebrate Christmas, they were all game for one of Ash's 'famous' roast dinners. Besides, my version of Christmas is much more commercial than it is religious. Then on Boxing Day, Ash is going to Toby and Flora's for presents and dinner.

Chloe's grandparents have been nothing but kind and helpful, according to Ash, but I'm on tenterhooks waiting for the other Imogen-shaped shoe to drop. If she went to her parents after she left him, it's inconceivable to me that she's not lurking around somewhere now.

And it still feels, at least to me, like Ash and I are pretending Imogen doesn't exist. Whenever he mentions that he'll be seeing them, they're Flora and Toby or they're Chloe's grandparents, but they are never Imogen's parents. Those words don't cross his lips. Even with Toby and Flora back in his life, her name is never spoken aloud.

Maybe someone else would be comforted by how completely Ash has shut her out of the conversation, but people who have no emotional ties don't bother tailoring the truth to this extent. Part of me wants him to confront whatever his feelings are about her, and another part of me hopes I'm long gone before that happens.

Most days I want nothing more than to stay in England and keep playing house with Ash and Chloe. Nine days out of ten, I pray that my company decides to keep me here longer. But the other day, that sneaky ten percent, is convinced I'd stay for nothing.

But for the first time in my life, I'm with a man where I can picture our future stretched out ahead of us—vast and infinite. For him, I'd have more babies and change my last name, and on the days where I'm feeling particularly reckless and in love, I'm certain I'd even live in England—if I could be with him—forever. He is, more than anything, the deciding factor in what comes next for me.

When I let my practical side resume, I realize we've made no such promises to each other, and while I'm desperately in love with him, he's still got at least one foot stuck in the past. No one dreams of being the one someone settled for.

"Should we do those white footprints?" Ash asks as he bites into another carrot and then returns it to the plate.

"Oh! Yes!" The reminder draws me out of my melancholy thoughts. There will be plenty of time for sadness later. No need to go down that path on Christmas Eve. "I ordered a template thing off the internet."

"Yeah, I'm aware." Ash's voice is tinged with teasing. "Me and the delivery bloke are best mates."

"I really enjoy celebrating Christmas. Sue me," I say as I go to the back room I often use as an office to dig out the template.

"Why?" Ash asks as he takes it from me when I return.

"You're not big on Christmas?"

Ash shrugs. "When I was younger, my parents fought a lot about money, and then when I was older, me mum didn't have money." He flips the plastic footprint stamp around and around in his hands. "For you, it's magical. From reciting the story to all these traditions you've already got for Joey. For me, even last year when I had Chloe, it's a source of stress."

"But you like birthdays." Both are celebrations rife with financial implications.

"Nothing magical about a birthday. You can celebrate in all sorts of ways that have got nothing to do with money. There's no Santa Claus on a birthday who delivers a pair of socks to one kid and a PlayStation to another. Not looking forward to explaining that one."

His comment pops the helium balloon of my excitement, and I just stare at him for a beat. It might be silly that his point has never occurred to me, but it hasn't. Growing up, my parents didn't get me the PlayStation, but it wasn't just a pair of socks either. We were firmly in the middle of the presents scale, and I never wanted something so badly that my parents couldn't figure out a way to get it for me or help me get it eventually.

"I'll never forget this conversation," I say. "And if Chloe ever wants a PlayStation, and Christmas is too stressful for you, please call me. I'd want to help if I could." Talking about a time when we're not together always gets me a bit choked up, but I normally hide it better. Tears have sprung to my eyes, and Ash sets the shoe print on the couch before closing the distance between us.

He frames my face before pressing his lips to my forehead and then he captures my lips with his.

"Sod the footprints," he murmurs against my neck before picking me up. "I'll finish the job in a bit. I've got you to take care of first."

As I cling onto him, he carries me up the stairs and into my room before closing and locking the door. At least when we're secured in here together, it feels like time has no meaning while we get lost in each other.

~ * ~

Hours later, Ash wanders downstairs to finish the footprints and the last of the decorating. It only feels like he's gone for a few minutes before he's sliding into the bed behind me and gathering me into his arms. I snuggle closer, and he draws me tight against his frame before planting a kiss on my neck.

"This is already the best Christmas ever," he whispers in my ear.

I reach back to cup the edge of his face, and then I run my hand down the side of his body. The amount of love swelling in me is almost too much to bear.

"I'm never going to forget it either," I say.

He nuzzles my neck, and I squeeze his leg, and then we're both drifting to sleep.

It's not long before my bedroom door bursts open. "It's Christmas!" Joey screams.

"Bollocks," Ash mutters from behind me before slithering under the blankets.

For once, I didn't put my nightgown back on, and I'm naked. Ash is in the bed in who knows what state of dress, and I have an overexcited three-year-old on the threshold about to pounce. When I glance at the clock, I realize it's only five in the morning.

"Joey," I say from the bed. "Is the clock in your room green?" It's set for seven in the morning, and it's how we've managed to escape being found in bed together up until now. Ash always leaves early. Unless it's an emergency, Joey is supposed to stay in his room until the clock turns green.

"It's Christmas!" He throws out his arms as though I'm being ridiculous.

"Yes, but it's still dark out. Santa might not have been here yet. Back to bed. When the clock is green, we'll go investigate."

He huffs out a frustrated breath, but he turns on his heel and stomps back to his room.

From under the covers, Ash says, "Blimey, that was close."

"Chloe!" Joey's voice drifts down the hall. "It's Christmas!"

"What a little turkey," I say, and I sit on the edge of the bed, fumbling for a nightgown from my drawer. "He's trying to wake her up too."

"And I'm not in there to set him straight." Ash is out of the bed and tugging on his clothes almost as fast as we normally take them off.

"Ash?" Joey's voice is clear down the hall. "Mommy said no to Christmas."

"Now he's tattling on me to you?" I say in disbelief.

Ash lets out a gentle chuckle, and he smooths down my hair before kissing my temple. "He knows I'll set you straight." Before I can reply, he's out of my bedroom door and down the hall.

I can hear him telling Joey he was in the bathroom, which is why he wasn't in bed. But I can already tell it's too late for any of us to get more sleep. Chloe is awake and babbling to her father about wanting a bubbas. We're all up, so it looks like Joey is going to get his Christmas wish.

When I go to my bedroom door, Ash gives me an appraising look from down the hall. "What do you reckon?"

"We're up," I say with a yawn. "I guess we'll see if Santa had enough time to get here."

~ * ~

The rest of the day passes in a caffeinated blur of presents and Ash putting various gifts together. The minute he gets his tools out, I might as well lie down and spread my legs. Something primal is awakened by almost everything Ash does, but watching him assemble toys with his two helpers on either side is a particular kind of aphrodisiac. He can fix objects and people with a deep well of patience for both—is there anything better? The handiest man I'm likely to meet, and he's mine. At least for now.

Dinner is filled with laughter and a lot of good food. Diya and Tejinder both bring dates, and where Diya's inclusion of a man doesn't mean much, I'm surprised at Tejinder's attentiveness to his date. He even introduces her to my parents and my sister during our middle-of-the-meal video chat.

By the time everyone leaves, I'm exhausted, and we trudge the kids up to bed. With his new football cradled in his arms, Joey falls asleep remarkably fast.

My bedroom door is open so I can catch Ash on his way past. The rest of the tidying can wait until tomorrow. Since Ash is spending the majority of the day with Toby and Flora, I'll need things to keep me busy.

Ash appears in my doorway, one hand braced on either side. His sweats are so low they're almost indecent, and his T-shirt rides up, exposing his defined abs. Confidence oozes off him, and I eye him from where I'm already tucked in under the covers.

"Knackered?" he asks, and his gaze sweeps over me.

"Never too tired for you." I pat his side of the bed behind me.

He hauls his shirt over the back of his head, and he closes the door behind him. His sweats hit the floor not long after, and as the mattress dips behind me, I click off the bedside light.

"Happy Christmas," he says in my ear before tugging me against him.

"Still seems weird to me for that to be a thing people say here." I turn in his arms to face him. "Was it a happy Christmas?"

"The best I've ever had." He smooths my hair down and kisses my forehead. "Paige Johnston—making my life better one holiday at a time."

Warmth washes over me at the gruffness in his tone coupled with his proximity. "Tejinder's latest match seems to be paying off."

"The matchmaker auntie is earning her money with him," Ash says.

"You leave around lunch tomorrow for Toby and Flora's house?" I already know the answer, but I've been dwelling on their Boxing Day arrangement since he mentioned it. Truthfully, I've been fixated on his relationship with them since he agreed to let Chloe stay at their house while he's at football. Maybe I don't have any right to be worried about the situation, but I can't help myself. Imogen is still a wild card, and they let him down once before.

"Spend the afternoon there and then an early meal."

The air grows thick around us, but I'm not sure if it's because Ash can sense my discomfort or if he's uncomfortable talking about it as well.

"Do you reckon I should set my alarm for earlier tomorrow? Or do you think this morning was a one off with Joey?"

Maybe the lines between me and Ash would have gotten blurry no matter what, since neither of us has any close family nearby, but today it really felt like we were a family. There are so many times when it feels like we're a real family. Joey, even if he can't recognize or name what we are, must feel that connection too.

If we're already as close as family members, it seems pointless to keep making Ash sneak out of here as though losing him and Chloe at the end of this year won't devastate me and Joey. Whether or not Ash and I are sharing a bed, to Joey, he's important. Very, very important. The line I've drawn in the sand is artificial and false. Easily erased.

"Maybe we don't need to pretend around the kids anymore?" I offer.

There's a heavy silence in the darkness. "Is that what you want?"

"Does it make sense to you to keep up the ruse?"

He chuckles. "You can't answer a question with a question."

"You did it first."

"I'd be chuffed to bits not to have to pretend around the kids anymore, but I was never the one asking for that line. You wanted it for Joey."

"And I think, whether or not I like it, at the end of our year here..." I can't get the words out around the lump that wedges itself into my throat.

He draws me tighter against him, tucking my head under his chin. "Any word from work about your contract?"

"Nothing."

"Do you reckon they'll ask you?"

"I don't know," I whisper. "I wouldn't want to pin any hopes on it." Even if I'm already starting to. Another year with Ash to see whether this thing between us can go the distance would be a real Christmas present—the kind that can't be bought.

"You're aiming to make the best of what we've got?"

"If we get hurt either way," I say, "then, yes."

"Suppose we're done pretending," he says, and he eases back to tip my chin up. His lips seek mine, and it doesn't take much to snuff out the exhaustion of the day once the heat of desire starts to burn once more.

As he tugs my nightgown over my head, and he trails a line of kisses down my body, I can't help wondering whether my motives are pure. Maybe our new arrangement is logical or maybe it's a way for me to add another layer of protection against the draw of Imogen's family. They might hold the keys to his past, but I'm the one who has him behind a locked door right now.

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