“You and Luce spent Christmas with me last year. And the year before that.” He drops his palms to my waist and squeezes my hip. “Best Christmases of my life, if we’re being honest.” “I have a feeling this year is going to be even better,” I say. He doesn’t know about the envelope Lucy is grabbing from her desk drawer. He’s clueless about the adoption papers she begged me to file so Hudson could legally be her dad. He’s been in that role since they met, and no one else will ever hold the title.
