He smiled. “My feet are fine. You get the massage just for wearing those sexy heels tonight. And your dad is great. The apple didn’t fall far.”

“He is pretty great. But I’m sorry he got so personal. He’s never actually done that before.”

“Did he meet a lot of the men you went out with?”

“Not too many, but a few. He’s only ever made small talk with the ones he’s met before. It’s really unlike him to be so meddlesome.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’m sure hearing I’ve been married and have a daughter gave him reason for concern. Can’t say I blame him. It’s hard to even imagine a day when I couldn’t protect my daughter anymore.”

“I guess. Though I don’t think it really had anything to do with you having been married or there being a Birdie.”

“No?”

“I think he just saw something he’d never seen with me before.”

“What’s that?”

I bit my lip, thinking maybe I’d said too much. Sebastian noticed and stopped rubbing my foot.

“Talk to me. What is it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing bad. I think he just . . . saw the possibility of a future for me with someone.”

Sebastian’s eyes looked back and forth between mine. “Smart man. I see the same thing. There’s a future here, sweetheart.”

A future here.

Sweetheart.

I let his words seep through me, enjoying the warmth in my chest that spread to my fingertips and toes. A huge smile spread across my face.

Sebastian crooked one finger at me. “Come here, smiley.”

I sat up and inched closer to him on the couch.

He cupped both of my cheeks, and his eyes roamed my face for a long time before he sealed his lips over mine. Emotions bubbled to the surface as we kissed. I started to get lost in the moment. Until a voice snapped us both back to reality.

“Daddy . . .”

“I better get going.”

Birdie had woken up from a noise outside her window, and she’d caught us making out on the couch. If it had bothered her, she definitely hid it well. Sebastian bribed her with a cookie to go back to bed, and she asked if I would tuck her in, which I did.

Sebastian groaned. “I hate this.”

“Me too. But we have to set an example for her.”

“Can’t we just sneak you out before she gets up?”

I pushed up on my toes and planted a kiss on his lips. “She’s a smart girl. I don’t think it would take too long for her to figure things out.”

Sebastian hung his head and pouted. “Fine. I’ll call the damn Uber.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want a night, a whole one. One where I get to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up and roll over and slip inside you. I’m going to ask Magdalene if she can stay over one night soon.”

I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

A few minutes later, the Uber arrived and Sebastian opened the door. “Hey,” he said, grabbing my hand as I went to walk out.

I backed up. “Yeah?”

“I’m crazy about you.”

My insides melted to a pile of mush. “I’m crazy about you, too.”

CHAPTER 23

SEBASTIAN

The following morning, my daughter seemed like she was expecting to see Sadie.

Her eyes were groggy when she walked into the kitchen and asked, “Is Sadie here?”

I put down my coffee. “No, honey. She went home last night.”

“Oh. I was hoping she would make me another green monster.”

“You really like that shake she made the other day, huh? You weren’t just saying that to be nice?”

“No. I loved it!”

“Want me to make it for you?” I winked. “I think I can handle it.”

“Yes, please.”

I swiftly got up. “You got it. One green monster coming right up.”

Birdie looked preoccupied as she sat on one of the stools by the counter.

“Everything alright?” I said as I reached for the blender.

“I think Santa brought Sadie to us.”

Her comment caught me off guard. I paused, unable to concentrate on gathering the rest of the ingredients.

“Say what?”

“I never told you this . . . but I started writing to Santa back in June.”

Knowing the story behind who Santa actually was, I felt almost uncomfortable as Birdie was confessing this to me. She went on to tell the full story of all her letters to “Santa.” I was unsure what compelled her to admit it to me now.

“Anyway, I told Santa that I wanted a special friend. And I think Sadie is his last gift to me.”

I had to ask, “What makes you so sure that it’s Santa . . . and not just luck?”

“Well, Mommy believed in writing to him.”

Mommy?

“What do you mean?”

“The only reason I started writing to Santa was because Mommy used to read the letters that people wrote in to Santa. That’s why I first wrote to him—at the address in the magazines Mommy kept.”

“Your mother kept articles of people writing to Santa?”

“Yeah. You know that big box of dolls you gave me that used to be Mommy’s?”

“What about it?”

“That’s where the folder was. With all the Santa articles and stuff.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Do you still have it?”

Birdie nodded.

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” She ran to her room and came back with a worn manila folder. Articles were bulging from it. It had to be at least two inches thick and had a fat rubber band tied around to keep it closed.

I took the folder, confused. “Why wouldn’t you tell me about finding these?”

She looked down. “I thought you’d get mad at me for writing to Santa. Because I really don’t need much. And that’s, like . . . greedy. I know. I just wanted a special friend for us . . . and some socks for you.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not mad. Why don’t you go take your shower and get dressed, and then we’ll take the Duke to the park.”

“Okay, Daddy!”

Birdie took off, and I stared at the folder for a long time, unsure of why it wasn’t sitting right with me. So what if Amanda kept a box of Santa clippings? She probably hadn’t been hiding them. Perhaps the folder had been in the box with a bunch of other files, and that one had been on the bottom. She’d taken them out to use the box for something else and hadn’t noticed she’d left one behind. I was certain there was a logical reason.

Yet that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t going away.

Trying to shake it off, I slipped the rubber band off the file and opened the folder. There had to be a hundred articles snipped from magazines in here. Sifting through, the first twenty or so were all from the Santa feature. It seemed Amanda had kept each of the weekly articles that ran throughout November and December and for quite a few years. I guess she really had been a big fan. But as I dug further, I noticed there were other articles, too. A few dozen on makeup tips, then a bunch that seemed to be about women in business—dealing with office politics and stuff like how to dress for success. Amanda hadn’t been big into makeup, and she definitely never worked in an office. So it all seemed pretty random. Since they were clippings, not all of them had a date. But some did at the top. She’d cut out these articles over years. But why? And why hadn’t she ever mentioned her little collection?