Page 129 of The Holiday Makeover

The ring on my finger had not gone unnoticed. People had questions. Lots of them.

I did my best to evade them, mostly because I figured I should probably tell Tate how I felt about our not-so-semi-engagement before I told the entire town.

So I said cute noncommittal things like, “It was an early Christmas present from Tate,” or, “My finger needed a workout.”

Tate just chuckled and played along.

He got plenty of questions too.

Mostly about his show. A show he still didn’t know the fate of. Regardless, he answered every question with grace.

Eventually, though, the questions started tapering off, and people started gathering their coats.

Everyone had their own plans and traditions to get to, which was a very good thing because my feet were going to fall off.

I actually slipped out of my heels as I hugged everyone goodbye and kissed a lot of cheeks.

I might have hugged Jack Holiday a little longer than everyone else.

And Tate might have cleared his throat.

It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about. Jack Holiday seemed absolutely smitten with his gorgeous wife, Ivy.

And he actually asked Tate for his number, saying he was always on the lookout for good talent.

Neither of us was sure exactly what that meant, but I think it was a good sign that Tate was going to have options no matter what happened with his show.

Veronica and Dominic were the last to leave, with hugs and kisses and promises of seeing us early tomorrow for Christmas breakfast and presents.

I leaned against the front door and let out a huge breath.

Across the entryway, pictures of Coco, Grandpa, and my parents stared back at me from their frames, as if they had witnessed every beautiful second of the night.

I love you, I whispered silently.

Tate took my hand before I could turn into a puddle of goo. “You have gifts to unwrap.”

“We should clean up first,” I groaned.

“We can tomorrow. Come on. It’s tradition.”

That was true. We had always opened two gifts on Christmas Eve. One was usually pajamas, and the other was something fun.

I had completely forgotten about the pajamas.

Coco and I had ordered ours before she passed, but I couldn’t wear those reindeer pajamas now. And no way was Tate squeezing into Coco’s set.

“You win.”

Honestly, I was too exhausted to clean up. I wanted to hibernate for at least a month.

Tate turned down the lights until the room was lit only by the glow of the Christmas tree. It illuminated the soft falling snow beyond the picture window and us. A very sultry Christmas song played in the background.

Definitely not kid-approved.

We sank down in front of the tree. Tate had ditched his jacket and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, which was better than caffeine and perked me right up.

“Where did all these gifts come from?”