Tied Up In Tinsel (With The Nanny)

by M Hartley

Still… if fate happened to toss him back in my path, there was no telling if I’d pass up the chance to climb him like a fir tree in Rockefeller Center.

She was… something. The kind of something you notice and keep noticing, even when you tell yourself not to.

“Since I’m officially on your payroll now,” I said, my mouth curving into a slow grin, “does that mean date two is out of the question?”

“Snowberry Peak is, like, the best for holidays. And no one should ever be alone. If your family sucks, you can share my mom. She’s pretty great. We can be your family.”

There I was, standing in a ridiculous tutu, with a kid who was starting to make me wish for a family of my own and a woman whose smile I’d already started memorizing.

I’d always had a thing for men with tattoos. Big. Strong. The kind who looked like they could throw me over their shoulder without breaking a sweat. My ex-husband had been the opposite of everything I’d ever wanted, and maybe that should have been my first red flag.

“Then I’m going to need you to put those hands on the headboard, Red.”

I wanted to tie him up with the damn tinsel for my tree to make sure he didn’t go anywhere lingering eyes could find him.

For the first time in a long time, the season didn’t feel heavy. It felt alive. It felt like hope.

Because what I wanted was sitting across from me, laughing softly, her eyes lighting up in a way that made the world outside this dining room disappear. Annie.

For the first time in years, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay.

“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take every fucking inch.”

“Leave it,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear as I pressed against her one last time. “Let it remind you who you belong to.”

Annie was the spark. Bright. Beautiful. She just needed someone to remind her. I wanted to be that someone.

Being lost in Brooks wasn’t like being lost in myself at all—it was like finding the pieces I’d forgotten I had.