Let Your Hearts Be Light (Christmas Daddies, #1)

by Fae Quin

Baxter was…sunshine. I hated sunshine.

The man was…for lack of a better word. Well… Grumpy. Big. Thick. Intimidating. With tattoos galore and more salt than pepper in his beard and wavy, sandy-brown hair. I was maybe only a little ashamed to admit he looked like he’d stepped straight off the webpage of the Nice Wood lumberjack porn website that I paid a monthly subscription to. I had my secrets, so sue me.

“Which room do you think is Becca’s?” he asked, like an absolute fucking creep. But he was my creep, so I loved him anyway. “Weird question, bud.”

“I’m not happy.” I stared at him, suddenly unafraid, despite the way his brows lowered and his eyes only grew darker. “If you hate me because I’m happy, then you’re just…” I shook my head. “You’re just completely fucking stupid.” “What?” “I’m not happy, Paxton.” I pointed my spatula at him, my voice wobbling as the words that I’d kept barricaded inside of me since the day my sister died barreled to the front. “I’m absolutely fucking miserable.” My hands were shaking, shaking, shaking. “Now, go wash your fucking hands.” Paxton did as he was told.

Why did remembering the painful, angry bite to his words, the quiver of his lips, the flutter of his wet lashes—why did that make me want to fucking punch something?

“Never knew you liked that so much!” She cheered, nodding toward the back door where we could still clearly see the silhouettes of the sleds laid out on the now no longer pristine coat of snow. “What can I say?” I hummed, watching as horror dawned on her face. “I’m a sled for it.” She blinked. Nathan cocked his head at me in confusion across the table. I glanced between the two of them, waiting for them to get the joke. Nothing. “You know because I’m a—” Paxton’s laughter broke the silence, interrupting me as the quiet rumbling chuckle filled the room like an avalanche. “Sled for it.” He shook his head and I turned to stare at him, my jaw dropping. “Like slut?” I

“You know, if all you do is smile, the smiles stop meaning shit.”

His hair was honey, his skin was spun sugar, and I couldn’t help but crave him in a way that was so terrifying I had no idea what to do with it.

He’d taken himself out of a bad situation. That was so fucking brave. It was one thing to stand up to a bully but when that bully was your own family? Well.

“Mental health isn’t that way, sweetheart.” The term of endearment slipped from my lips before I could catch it. I hurried on, embarrassed, hoping to cover it up. “Therapists aren’t there to ‘fix you’ they’re not…magicians.”

do.” “Then what’s the problem?” “I don’t…” I swallowed. “I don’t know how to seduce you…or to give you what you want. I don’t know if I’m good at sex. I don’t know what it’s like to be with someone who wants me when I want them in return. I don’t want to fuck this up—whatever we are. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to disappoint myself. I want this to be as good as I know it can be. I want—”

With Paxton’s hands on me it was like I became his property and I had never in the history of ever wanted to be anything more.

Watching him was almost more pornographic than feeling him. He looked like he’d stepped straight off the pages of my favorite porn website. His massive shoulders blocked out any light from the window, his muscular thighs shoved up against mine so he could force me to spread. He was so much thicker than I was—thicker chest, thicker belly, thicker hips, thicker thighs. Built like he was meant to last. Dear god, I hoped that was true.

When he looked at me I felt like porn.

This was Belleville’s Baxter Baker. Uptight little sunshine boy. Everyone’s favorite golden child. And I was about to fuck him silly.

“I’ll go wherever you go, happily.” “Even to the ground?” “Especially to the ground.”

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Paxton said softly. “But I’m the kinda guy who doesn’t give up when he finds something he wants.” I kissed his thumb again. “I want you, Baxter. I want you when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re worried, when you’re old and gray and covered in wrinkles.”

We picked out the brightest, most obnoxious, yellow mixer in the history of the universe. And that sweet little girl beamed at me like I’d hung the fucking moon. I realized then that it didn’t matter that I’d just met her. Didn’t matter at all. She was mine.

I’d never connected with someone the way I did with him. He was…fuck. He was sugar cookies, hot cocoa, and Christmas mornings. Sunbeams, summer days, and laughter. Everything I’d ever wanted—and I wasn’t about to fuck it up.

We’d had the talk earlier about condoms and fuck… The idea of watching my come drip out of his well-fucked hole made my head spin and my balls ache to empty inside him. It wasn’t lost on me how excited I was to cream-pie my baker.

“So we’re adopting them then,” Nathan hummed a moment later with glee. “The Bakers?” I asked, my lips twisting into a smile. He nodded. “Yeah, bud.” I grinned. “We’re adopting them.”

He was my constant. The moon that rose every night. The crisp taste of snow in the air before the storm ever hit. He was warm hugs, hot cocoa, and wood shavings.