Christmas with the Cunninghams

A Mavericks Novella

Julianna Marley

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Coming Soon…

Also by Julianna Marley

About the Author

Copyright © 2016 by Julianna Marley

All Rights Reserved.

This book, Christmas with the Cunninghams: A Mavericks Novella, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and/or events are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or not living, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise; except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

Cover Design: Shannoff Formats

For my own large and delightfully rambunctious family.

Thank you for making every holiday more memorable than the last.

“It’s not what’s under the tree that matters,

it’s who’s gathered around it.”

1

“Are you sure you’re ready for this again?”

Looking up at her fiancé, Whitney Scott smiled. Although she was still getting used to that term.

Fiancé.

It had been approximately nineteen hours since Shay Cunningham had made all her dreams come true with just a handful of words.

“Will you let me cuss around you for the rest of my life, Sunshine?”

Her arms still breaking out into chills at just the thought of last night, and also maybe a little from the resiliently crisp West Virginia air, she slid her fingers through his as he held her baby girl, Quinn covered head to toe in winter gear. “Absolutely.”

She’d had the pleasure of falling in love with Shay’s family over Thanksgiving when he had insisted her and Quinn come home with him because they hadn’t had any place to spend the holiday. And well, everything that had happened thereafter had been nothing short of a fairytale. But just like every other love story, it hadn’t been without its own challenges, yet she couldn’t think of any other place she would rather spend her favorite holiday than with Shay, her baby girl and his incredible family. Opening the large, green door to the overwhelmingly large home that Shay had built for his parents so that they could be surrounded by all eighteen of his family members still took her breath away. The home was absolutely magnificent, just like the gesture itself.

Charming holiday décor both old and new littered the foyer while red candles smelling of apples and pine wreaths filled her nose. White lights joined with green garland and red holly berries decorated the spiral banister of the staircase and she smiled. She sort of felt as if she was having déjà vu walking through the same door that she’d had only a few weeks ago.

But, oh, how so much had changed.

Screams and thumps and bangs that she hadn’t realized she missed so much bounced off the ceiling as the voices of people talking loudly over one another welcomed them. Walking down the long hallway, the voices grew louder as a few children rushed past them with swords, nearly knocking them off their feet. Well, perhaps, not that much had changed.

Turning into the kitchen that flowed easily into the living room, the size of the massive windows running from floor to ceiling took her off guard once again. The giant spruce trees that ran for miles behind the home that had been painted in orange and red only a few weeks ago at Thanksgiving were now covered with snow. The soft white glow lighting up the sky despite it being close to dinner time, she admired the snow continuing to fall gently for miles and miles. The Christmas magic was in the air. It was silent, but she felt it. Knew it. Believed in it.

“How long do you think it will take before they notice we’re here?” Shay whispered against her ear.

Not long.

If Quinn wouldn’t announce their arrival with a squeal of excitement or a cry for food than she imagined that his mama, Fiona, would stop long enough to notice. Being that she had called them every thirty minutes while on the road from Charleston. Wrapping his arm around her waist tighter, she watched Shay’s mama wedge large serving spoons into casseroles that covered the entire kitchen table and even an additional table for extra room. Holly, Shay’s sister-in-law stumbled with the cutlery in the dining room and she smiled at the memory of teaching her how to set the perfect table setting at Thanksgiving. Picking baby Maeve up in one scoop, Shay’s older brother Finn curled her up to his nose smelling her diaper before making a face. Erin, Shay’s other sister-in-law looked even bigger than she remembered. Her long dark hair pushed on top of her head in a messy bun, her big belly peeked out beneath her sweater as she filled the ice bucket with cubes. Yelling at more kids over her shoulder with less authority than she remembered, Erin looked wrung out. Cian, Shay’s oldest brother stomped through the kitchen with two kids on each leg and one on his back, screaming that he was a snow monster. Siobhan, Shay’s future sister-in-law sat on a kitchen chair picking at the food, before scrunching her nose while Shay’s brother Rory placed extra chairs in the dining room around the table.

This was her new family.

Smiling up at Shay, he was taking in the same scene and her heart burst a little. He was the most exceptional man she had ever met and she was still having a hard time believing that he was hers. Theirs. Her and Quinn’s.

Smirking, she felt him stand straighter before yelling. “We’re engaged!”

2

Her heart dropping into her stomach, Whitney blinked up at Shay, a huge smile spreading across his face. The room completely stopped as each and every person looked at the three of them just standing there. And she made a note that this was undoubtedly the longest she had ever seen this family go without making a sound. Her eyes widening, she looked back at them as light Christmas music drifted across the silent room. Why in the world would he just announce it like that? A large metal spoon dropping from Fiona’s hand the noise echoed inside the kitchen before she let out a huge scream, a shriek much larger than the woman herself before everyone else joined her. Rushing towards them, arms and hands and kisses from every direction surrounded them and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Her family.

Leaning back, Fiona’s tiny hands cupped her face, her eyes damp. Eyes that she shared with Shay. “Our Whitney.”

Moving to Shay, she brought him down close to her before smoothing his face and kissing his cheek, lingering as tears streamed down her small face.

Squeezing her tightly, Erin’s big belly bumped against her as heavy tears formed inside her eyes, which she assumed were the hormones. “I’m so happy,” she whispered, wiping her eyes quickly. Grabbing Shay, Erin squeezed him just as hard.

Jumping up and down, Holly squealed and she couldn’t help but laugh. Gosh, she loved this family. Grabbing her hand, Holly looked at her ring as Cian cut in giving her another hug nearly lifting her feet off the floor. “Thank God.”

“About time,” Finn smiled brightly giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, Whitney.”

Each man slapping hands with Shay, they all smacked his back hard and she could see the pride on Shay’s face. And seeing that, was worth everything to her.

“Oh my gosh!” Siobhan sang, bouncing up and down before giving her a hug as Whitney fought back her own tears. She had been helping Siobhan plan her wedding to Rory for weeks now, trying her best to deliver a traditional wedding to counteract Siobhan’s peculiar taste while orchestrating some modern day miracles. But that’s what wedding coordinators did. They made magic happen. And working for the best wedding and special events company in all of South Carolina, it’s what she did every day. And for Shay’s family, she did it proudly.

Moving slowly towards her, his limp restricting him a bit, she watched Rory. Gosh, he and Shay looked so much alike. Leaning in, he gave her a strong hug. One filled with a lot of strength. Pulling back a fraction, Rory whispered against her ear. “You take good care of him, Country. Alright?”

Biting her lip, she shook her head and her heart just about burst right there in the middle of Fiona’s kitchen. Just a few weeks ago things between Shay and Rory had been volatile. Years of repressed guilt and anger collided, resulting in a fist fight and screaming match.

And it was something she never wanted to see again.

Ever.

After urging, or perhaps, nagging, Shay to talk to his brother candidly and truthfully, things between them seemed to be on the mend. So much so that she watched a strong handshake and a genuine smile bounce between them before Rory grabbed the back of Shay’s neck, an unspoken exchange between them. One that could only come from brothers.

“Let’s celebrate,” Uncle Tommy yelled behind her before lifting her off her feet and giving her a big kiss on the cheek, his black leather jacket smelling of cigarette smoke. The man that once scared the stuffin’ out of her, she was coming to adore as she squeezed him back tighter. He was a terrific uncle. And she had learned that he had been there to help Shay’s parents take care of all four boys while growing up. He didn’t look like the rest of the clan, well, except for a small resemblance to Shay’s father, Patrick. He looked more like a founding member of a motorcycle gang. The long, deep, aged scar across his cheek was intimidating and she’d bet there was a story there somewhere. He was such a good man. Everyone deserved an Uncle Tommy. Taking Quinn from Shay’s arms, Fiona yelled for everyone to eat some food before Shay’s arms wrapped around Whitney’s waist. Resting against him she watched Quinn smile brightly as the usual chaos of the Cunninghams ensued in the kitchen.

And suddenly, she knew exactly what peace on earth really felt like.

3

“Cheers baby boy.”

Grinning, Shay clinked his glass of eggnog with Finn before he did the same with the rest of his brothers. Taking a sip he bit back at the heavy taste of whiskey. True to Cunningham fashion, unless it was water, it was spiked. But damn it was good to be home again. And being home with Whitney and Quinn for Christmas made everything sweeter. Much sweeter. Getting down on one knee and proposing to that woman had been one of the scariest moments of his entire life. A very close second to almost losing her because of his bonehead fears.

And he never got scared.

Ever.

Watching her now as his sister-in-laws fussed over her ring and the details of his proposal, he took another drink behind his smile. The last twenty-four hours had been interesting and that was putting it mildly. After running around town trying to find the perfect ring, which had been rough, despite his best friend Myles’s help and sitting inside his attorney’s office waiting for Whitney’s father to come through with the onset of the adoption papers for Quinn, he’d been on edge. He wanted everything to be perfect.

For her.

For them.

But hearing Whitney say yes had made all the hustle worth it. However, no amount of planning had prepared him for how wicked cool it was to watch a child experience their first Christmas. Seeing Quinn this morning and opening her gifts for her, getting giggles and laughs had been incredible. And a memory he would never forget. But for as awesome as last night and this morning had been, living with two women was beginning to show. It had taken almost two hours for him to get them on the road as Whitney fussed over Quinn’s hair and outfit before doing the same to herself. That was all before her sister, Georgie had Facetimed them from Louisiana. He’d wanted to throw his hands up and tell his family that they weren’t going to make it, which he wouldn’t have minded because it would have meant that he’d have his girls all to himself, but seeing how excited Whitney was to talk to her sister, he’d laughed it off. Her sister was the only person inside Whitney’s family that she was speaking to and he would never take that away from her. Plus, it had actually been nice to meet someone from her family that wasn’t arrogant or malicious.

“What the hell is that thing?” Shay asked, tipping his cup towards a weird little elf doll sitting on the kitchen ledge next to his great grandmother’s Christmas village.

“That?” Cian asked, before taking a swig of his beer. “That’s elf on the shelf.”

“A what?”

“An elf on the shelf,” Cian repeated.

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s genius,” Finn interjected, taking his daughter Maeve from Holly’s arms. “It’s kept the kids in line all month so it’s alright in my book.”

Did its eyes just move?

Waddling past the three of them, Erin chewed angrily on a celery stick rubbing her lower back. He had met his sister-in-law at the bold age of nineteen and he didn’t think he could remember a time when she hadn’t been pregnant. But he also didn’t remember ever seeing her this beat up before. Reaching his hand out, Cian went to rub his wife’s shoulder before she smacked it away, growling at him.

“What the hell?” Shay drew out, looking at Cian and back at Erin falling into a chair in the living room.

“Dude,” Cian rubbed his eyes. “You don’t understand.” His oldest brother. The one who had taught him everything he knew from throwing a spiral to tying a slipknot looked worn out and afraid. Really, really afraid. “She is absolutely miserable.”

“Yeah, well five kids will do that to you,” Finn raised a brow.

“Yeah, but she’s practically a pro. I mean come on,” Cian shrugged. “They should just start walking out by this point, am I right?”

“I can hear you!” Erin yelled, causing them all to jump.

“Uncle Shay?”

Turning around at the sound of Nicky’s voice, Shay placed his drink down as his nephew sprinted across the kitchen floor before sliding on his knees and ramming against him. The boy’s arms wrapping around his neck, Shay smiled. He loved this kid. His godson. His nephew. His spawn. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Nicky mumbled into his neck.

He was happy too.

“Hey! Do you want to shoot some cans off the tailgate of Pops’ truck?”

Messing up Nicky’s bright blonde hair, Shay couldn’t resist chuckling. Nicky asked him that question every single time he came home.

“No!” Cian and Erin both yelled at the same time from different directions of the room.

“Maybe we’ll sneak some shots in when everyone is in a food coma later, yeah?” Shay winked, and they fist pounded on it.

“Did you hear the good news, Nicky?” Cian asked, tipping his bottle towards Whitney and Quinn. “You have a new cousin.”

“Really?” Nicky asked, and Shay was happy that he seemed genuinely excited. “Does this mean I can come visit you now?”

“Yes,” Shay grabbed him in a playful chokehold. “Of course you can.” Three more of his nephews, Kieran, Kellan and Caleb sprinted through the kitchen as Shay high fived each of them chasing his oldest niece Lena out the back door before his ma yelled for them to close it behind them.

“Is that ma baby boy?”

Chuckling at the sound of his pops’ screaming, Shay strolled deeper inside the living room. His pops was his hero. An Irish immigrant who had worked hard his entire life down at the railroads and who was now only two weeks out from back surgery. And if his ma’s phone calls about what a pain in the ass he had been with recovery was any indication, he knew his pops still had a long road ahead.

They all did.

Seeing both his legs propped up on couch pillows, a bowl of peanuts resting at his side, he laughed out loud pointing to the television above the fireplace. “Have you seen this movie?”

Looking at the screen Shay shook his head. “It’s Elf, Pops. Everyone has seen this movie.”

“Funniest fucking shit I’ve ever seen,” Patrick laughed, before shoveling a fistful of peanuts inside his mouth.

“Pops, watch your language.”

Looking at him as if he had lost his damn mind, his pops’ eyes followed him as he sat down in the chair beside him. That was another thing about Whitney. Her no cussin’ policy. Every time he cursed or shot off an obscenity as she liked to call it, he owed her a dollar. She was hell bent on fixing his mouth, although he’d let that woman do anything she wanted to his mouth.

“How ya feeling today?” Shay asked. His pops was the strongest man he knew. The hardest working and most honest, too. But like every Irish forefather, he was stubborn and too damn proud.

“Eh, it’s bullshit, I tell ya,” his pops spat. “They want me to do this bloody psychotherapy for me’ back.”

Physical therapy.

“It’s a waste of damn time, ye’ see,” he waved off. “My back is fine.”

His back wasn’t fine and he was driving them all nuts. But he got it. Being down and out and catered to didn’t run in the Cunningham blood. They were workers by nature and dedicated themselves to their craft.

To their family.

“PT will be good for you, Pops,” he assured. “I’ve been through it plenty of times.” Being a professional football player he had seen more than his fair share of snapped clavicles, broken bones, sprained ankles and torn muscles and the inside walls of physical therapy. “Hang in there, alright. We’ll get you back on your feet in no time.”

Waving him off, Patrick mumbled looking back up at the television. “And your ma won’t even let me have a beer,” he shook his head in aggravation and Shay bit back the urge to laugh.

“You’re still on pain meds, Pops. You can’t drink.”

Mumbling off a few more choice words, Shay laughed picking at the label of his water bottle. His pops was something else that was for sure. And he only hoped he could be half the man that he was someday.

“Ya got a real good lady in there,” his pops reached out, patting his hand. “And I know she’s gonna take care of you just fine.”

That was good to hear. But if anyone was going to be taking care of anybody, it was going to be him taking care of Whitney and Quinn. Everyday. Being the man that they both needed. That they deserved.

“I’m proud of ye’ baby boy.”

Lifting his head, he stared back at his pops, his green eyes heavy from which he assumed was too much pain medication. It had been a long time since he heard his pops say that.

I’m proud of you.

Up until recently he really hadn’t done much to make his pops proud of. Before Whitney he’d allowed his relationship with Rory to keep him from coming home and seeing his family. A long line of women, partying and excessive living had occupied his time outside of being on the football field, but Whitney had changed all that. Had forced him to stop hiding. To stop punishing himself for an accident that nearly left him and Rory for dead. She had also made him want to be a better man.

For his family.

For Quinn.

For her.

Snickering, Shay shook him off. His pops was definitely on too many pain meds.

“Hey,” his father barked, grabbing his attention again. “The only reason I agreed to have this bloody surgery in the first place is because your mother deserves to travel.”

Agreeing, Shay swiped his hand across his mouth slowly. Yes, his mother did deserve that. She had dedicated her entire life to him and his brothers. She deserved that and more.

“And to come see you play.”

Lifting his eyes again, Shay looked back at his pops, his eyebrows raising. He didn’t look like his pops. He took after his ma’s side of the family, his pops’ jet black hair, the sides grey from years and years of hard work and raising four boys. He had been playing in the league for four whole years and his parents hadn’t seen him play once in Charleston. Which sucked. Staring back at his pops quietly, he felt as if a heaviness was being lifted from his shoulders. He knew his pops loved him. He also knew that he didn’t blame him for the accident years ago, but hearing him say that he was proud of him, well, that meant something.

“Now go smuggle me a Stout will ya, boy.”

4

Staring at the grand fireplace encased in stone running all the way from the ground up to the ceiling, Whitney gently ran her fingers across her grandmaw’s pearls that rested around her neck and swallowed back tears. Her eyes taking in each of the twenty red and green stockings hanging on the large, log mantle, all struggling to fit, her eyes stopped at the two additional stockings wedged beside Shay’s. One for her and one for Quinn.

This family.

This wonderful, beautifully made family hadn’t blinked when she arrived unexpectedly with Quinn over Thanksgiving. They hadn’t asked any prying questions or passed any judgement. They had accepted and welcomed her and her baby girl without a second thought and she was so grateful that she could now call them her own. Her parents weren’t warm people. They weren’t welcoming and they hadn’t accepted her nor any decision she had ever made in her life. They handed out and passed around judgement like the yams at the Christmas dinner table. She hadn’t heard from either of them today and knew she shouldn’t be surprised. She also knew that she was supposed to be okay with that as well. She had made her peace with who her parents were and had finally stood up for herself and was no longer accepting their hurt. Their guilt. Their control. But it didn’t stop her from wishing that things were different. Hearing from Georgie today was nice, real nice and she just needed to remind herself that her parents were the ones missing out. Losing out on an amazing grandbaby and an incredible son-in-law. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she breathed in a deep breath. She had her perfect little family now. She had Shay and Quinn. And she couldn’t wait for the day when she could officially call the Cunningham family, her own. Although, they already were in all the ways that really mattered.

“We might need to get a longer mantle once baby Ruby arrives.”

Feeling Fiona’s small hand on her arm, Whitney smiled thinking of Cian and Erin’s new baby that was due soon enough. Placing her hand over Fiona’s they both gazed at the stockings with all of the names, every one getting increasingly more modern as the line went down to the youngest member of the family. The family history was so rich in this home and she adored that. Looking down at Fiona, a big smile on her tiny face, she smiled back. Gosh, Shay looked so much like her.

“Thank you,” Whitney whispered, her Louisiana accent spiking before she cleared her throat. “Thank you for accepting me and Quinn into your beautiful family, Fiona.”

Stopping her lip from trembling, she managed a small grin, her throat burning a bit. She loved this woman and although she wished things could be different with her own mama, Fiona was a blessing and she was the luckiest girl in the whole world to have her.

Patting her hand gently, Fiona’s smile softened. “Come with me.”

Following Shay’s mama up the large staircase immersed in garland and red berries and white lights, Whitney looked down into the middle of the overwhelmingly large foyer as Cassidy and Lena practiced their Irish step-dance routine while Kieran, Kellan and Caleb, all of which were around the same age, threw mesh blocks over the railing down onto the girls before ducking behind the banister. Walking through the large doors behind Fiona into her bedroom, her eyes adjusted as she turned on a small lamp. The room wasn’t flashy or heavily decorated nor expensive. It was simple. It held necessities and only a few personal items that she imagined they had owned for years prior to coming to the states. She loved items that held a past with them. Pictures and pieces that told stories and stored secrets. Watching as Fiona opened a small, wooden box on her dresser, one that looked brittle as if it held many miles and years, she lifted a hair brooch covered in pearls and delicate, tiny diamonds. “This was my mother’s.”

Whitney’s eyes closing slowly, her heart skipped. Grandmaw Quinn. The woman Shay shared his middle name with and the one her baby girl now proudly owned. When Shay had found her inside the basement of the Mavericks stadium about to give birth, he had not only got her to the hospital in time, but had stood beside her, the only hand to hold as she gave birth to her baby girl. After delivering Quinn and between drifting in and out of sleep, she had overheard Shay tell a nurse his full name and the moment that name left his lips, she knew. That was her baby girl’s name. And it was the perfect fit in more ways than one.

“She passed just a few months before Shay was born,” Fiona spoke, her eyes getting heavy. “And I know she would have just been wild for that boy.”

Chuckling quietly, she swallowed back her own tears threatening in the corners of her eyes. She was so emotional today. Taking her hands, Fiona’s smooth, early aging hands opened her fingers. Kissing the brooch, she placed it against her heart before placing it inside Whitney’s palm. “I think she would love it if you wore it on your wedding day.”

Tripping over her breath, the air left her lungs looking down at the vintage hair pin in her hands. Studying the woman she had only known for a few short weeks, but loved as though she had always been in her life, she choked back a sob.

“If you would like to wear it, that is,” Fiona shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like such a mother-in-law.”

Without a word, Whitney wrapped her into a tight hug, tears dropping from her eyelashes. Squeezing her gently, Fiona hugged her back.

“And I just know that she would have been crazy about you too, Whitney.”

5

“Where’s Rory?”

Looking between his brothers, Shay stuck his hands deeper inside his pockets. Damn, the longer he lived in the south he swore the colder it got back home. But for as much as he loved the warmth, water and sunshine in Charleston, there was no denying how awesome West Virginia was. Not just at Christmas, but any time of the year.

“He’s at it again on those bloody lights,” Finn jerked his chin towards the front of the house.

“He’s out of control,” Cian shook his head pinning the tip of a cigarette between his lips.

Rory was as stubborn as he was passionate and that was often a frustrating blend to the laid back nature of the rest of the brothers. Eleven months apart, he and Rory had grown up side by side, sharing both the classroom and the field all through school. After accepting their full rides to Notre Dame to play ball, just as Cian and Finn had, one late night, a dark road and a tractor trailer later had ended them in a ditch, bringing them both within inches of their lives. Shay had recovered and went on to live out the dream of playing in the NFL. But he had to do it without Rory. More broken bones and indisputable physical therapy, time had not been on Rory’s side to make it to camp and so he had lost his scholarship, keeping him home driving a truck with a permanent limp. It hadn’t been easy coming home and downplaying his success. Keeping his head down and watching the chip on his brother’s shoulder grow until it suffocated both of them. And as the years trailed on it became exceedingly more difficult to see Rory and continually digest the guilt he carried with him. It had only been recently that he’d realized that staying away to avoid Rory had also meant being noticeably absent to the rest of his family as well. But things were looking up. Chipping away at the years of resentment and hard feelings, him and Rory had made a silent agreement to steadily move forward. A large part of that he owed to Whitney. That woman was insistent and she hadn’t stopped getting on his case until he fixed things with his brother.

And his family.

“Eh, I just think he’s finding a reason to get away from that yappy fiancée of his,” Uncle Tommy chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette.

All agreeing, a small steady dusting of snow fell between them. It was good to be home. And even better than that, he felt as if he was relaxing back into his family again. Even simple things like standing around and talking with his brothers again. Things he had missed.

“Shit!” Shay shouted suddenly. “Fuck!”

His brothers’ heads whipping up quickly, they all stared at him.

Damn that felt good.

“The fuck was that mate?” Uncle Tommy asked.

Releasing a breath slowly, Shay adjusted his beanie on top of his head. “Damn that felt good,” he shook his head. “Whitney has this no cussin’ rule that she’s hell bent on,” he rubbed his face. “And I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

Looking at him, horrified each brothers’ eyes widened in disbelief and he swore he even saw Cian shudder. Cursing was a form of communication and self-expression inside his family. A way of life and he was trying to work on his mouth. Trying for her. But damn, was it difficult.

“So moving on,” Cian shook his head, flicking his cigarette over the railing. “How long after Rory’s wedding will we have to get ready for another bachelor party?”

Scoffing, Shay shrugged. Truth was, he’d have married that woman last night in the middle of his living room. Or this morning after she had woken up smiling if he had it his way. Looking over his shoulder, he watched her through the clouded kitchen window, laughing at something Holly said, the two of them bumping shoulders. That woman came into his life screaming and had changed his entire world. And watching her smile as Ma handed her Quinn, the lights from the tree glowing behind them, he realized how much he had been missing out on before them. In under a few short months, they had become everything to him. Nothing in his past seemed as heavy any more. And looking at the two of them now, he knew exactly why he had lived that night of the accident.

“So has it been rough?” Finn asked, a cloud of thick air coming from his mouth. “Baby boy bachelor now living with two women.”

Scoffing, he wiped his hands slowly across his mouth. “Well there certainly is a lot more clothes that’s for damn sure.”

But he didn’t mind.

He wanted all his space occupied with their things.

And with them.

Cian continued to fill him in on Nicky insisting on practicing his spirals and catches every day after school despite the snow on the ground and the kid was already talking about playing for Notre Dame, which had them all bumping fists. All three of them had graduated from Dame and had played too. But he was the only one who had continued onto the league. Hearing his nephew talk about that now at the bold age of eight-years old had him and every other brother grinning with pride. Finn explained how Caleb was struggling with math and Uncle Tommy went on his usual rant about how the kids didn’t need to know more than addition and subtraction to get through life. That he had gotten by just fine on the basics. Which, was often debatable.

“Alright, I’m freezing my balls off,” Shay nodded towards the house. Damn his tolerance for bitter weather really was decreasing. Agreeing, Finn and Uncle Tommy followed behind him as he held the door open for Cian. “You coming?”

“Nope,” his oldest brother shook his head leaning back against the railing. “My wife scares me right now.”

Hanging his coat up by the door, Shay grabbed one of his ma’s infamous potato cakes off a tray on the kitchen table before coming up behind Whitney. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he gripped her lower stomach. “You look like a culinary goddess,” he whispered into her ear, taking in the sweet smell of her hair.

Whipping the inside of the bowl with a large spoon, her hair fell off her shoulder and he took that opportunity to press his lips against her warm skin. She was a domestic princess and each time he watched her he fell more in love with her. Feeling chills spread across her smooth neck he smiled. He was glad that he did that. That he had that effect on her. Which was good, real good, because the permanent reaction he had to this woman was incomparable. And he was known to be a little competitive.

“Why don’t you come with me,” he gripped her belly again, pushing her gently against the counter. “I’ll show you my old bedroom.”

Her hands slipping a moment, she recovered quickly before continuing to stir, clearing her throat. “Shay,” her southern accent hitched, pink creeping across her cheeks and he grinned knowing he was getting to her. “I will not do that in your family’s home.”

“Why not?” he asked, as she looked around, no doubt checking to see if anyone else could hear what he was suggesting. Always Little Miss Manners this one. “Come on Sunshine, I promise to take it easy on you.”

Lie.

“No. You won’t,” she cleared her throat again. “And you don’t have an old bedroom here, Casanova. But nice try.”

Grumbling, he swiped his finger on the side of the mixing bowl scooping some batter onto his finger before licking it. “I’ll wear you down.”

Rolling her eyes, she swatted his hand before laughing as he went for another finger full of cookie batter. Managing a lick, he turned around walking into the living room passing that damn elf again. Eyeing the thing sitting on the small ledge it looked like he was smiling.

Or laughing.

Laughing at him for just getting turned down.

6

“Here try this one, sweetie pie.”

Handing Cassidy a small slice of ham, Whitney waited a minute as Cassidy made over exaggerated gagging noises. Chuckling, Whitney held her hand underneath the small girl’s mouth as she spit the ham out in small pieces like she knew she would. The table was chaos, simple beautiful chaos as most of the children stood while eating their dinner than actually sitting in their seats. Small arms and fingers reached all over the table as the adults passed large serving bowls up and down the length of Fiona’s dining room table.

“No,” she shook her head popping a string bean into her mouth quickly before taking a cookie out of Shay’s hand. “She can’t eat that yet.” If he tried to feed Quinn one more sweet she was going to smack him. Looking back at her as Cassidy moved inside her lap reaching for her fourth dinner roll, his eyes flickered in mischief. No, she wouldn’t smack him. He was too cute. And watching her baby girl grab his mouth with her tiny fingers, she smiled again.

“Kellan sit down,” Finn ordered, running out of threats and promises as to what was actually going to happen if he didn’t listen and what toys were going to be taken away next.

“Here, eat this.” Fiona placed ham and shepherd’s pie on her plate before moving and doing the same to Holly. Born and raised in Louisiana, she had to admit, Fiona’s authentic Irish cuisine was a bit getting used to. That woman was only happy when she was pushing food into people’s mouths, but it was sweet. A woman didn’t cook a feast for twenty people unless it was made with love.

“Here, Siobhan eat something,” Whitney urged, picking up the mashed potatoes noticing her plate was empty. Handing them across the table, Cassidy leaned over her to tickle Quinn, her blonde curls getting caught in Whitney’s mouth.

“Oh no,” Siobhan shook her head resting her arms down on the table. “I’m on a diet for the wedding.”

That is absolutely ridiculous.

“And what kind of diet is that exactly?” she asked, placing down the bowl in the center of the table.

“Well,” Siobhan perked up as Nicky came between her and Shay and they started another long handshake. “I don’t eat anything at all until I get the shakes and then I pop a carrot stick with a smidge of peanut butter in my mouth.”

“Siobhan!” Whitney gasped. “That is not healthy.”

“I tried to tell her,” Fiona shook her head putting more potatoes on Finn’s plate.

“I just feel so fat lately. And I refuse to look like a whale on my wedding day,” she cried out in horror.

Turning her head slowly, Erin’s eyes pierced into Siobhan as she slowly took another bite of her roll. Watching Fiona slap some mashed potatoes onto Siobhan’s plate, Whitney bit back a laugh. Looking down at the food in horror, Siobhan looked up at Fiona. “When you’re in my house. You eat.”

Taking another roll from Cassidy, Whitney took a small bite of ham and nearly groaned. Why was Fiona such a good cook? A loud bang from the end of the table demanding everyone’s attention, Cian and Holly jumped up catching another glass of water spreading across the table cloth from one of the boys. Grabbing some napkins she handed them to Holly as Cassidy went for a spoonful of butter. Leaning into her, Shay’s shoulder bumped hers gently as Quinn squealed in his lap at the excitement.

“Did that elf move?” he mumbled, his eyes not leaving the doll across the room.

Handing Holly more napkins she looked at him and then at the elf and back at him. Oh for cryin’ out loud. “What is it with you and this elf?”

His eyes narrowed on it, he nodded his head slowly. “It definitely moved.”

“It did not move, Shay.”

“Yes it did.”

Sighing, she intercepted another cookie that Nicky had handed Quinn as Cassidy took it from her hand.

“Uncle Shay, of course he moved. He’s magic,” Nicky explained.

Not helping.

“He’s been watching us to make sure we’ve all been good and when we go to sleep at night he flies back to tell Santa so that we can all get on the good list.”

Raising a brow Shay looked at her over Nicky’s head.

“Are you scared that you’re on the naughty list or something, Uncle Shay?” Nicky asked.

Smirking, the corners of his mouth picked up looking back at her and her cheeks felt hot. Shay Cunningham was definitely on the naughty list. Although, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was also on the top of that nice list as well. He was complex like that. “No. I just really don’t like the bastard.”

“Language,” she warned, wiping drool from Quinn’s chin. “You owe me a dollar.”

“Oh, I owe you something, Sunshine,” his smile spread from ear to ear. “But apparently I’m being watched.”

Shaking her head, she chuckled hearing the door slam as Rory came into the dining room, his limp more prominent than when they arrived. “Who’s ready for a light show?!”

7

“Why the hell ye’ making us stand out here?!” Uncle Tommy yelled, pointing to the house. “I’m freezing my arse off!”

Wrapping his arm around Whitney, Shay pulled her tighter into his side to keep her and Quinn warm and he was thinking the same damn thing. Rory had been messing with these damn lights all day long. When they had arrived at his parents, the front lawn had looked like every Christmas light nightmare and DIY project gone wrong.

“Hold on,” Rory barked, wrestling with two long, thick wires.

Looking up at him, Whitney smiled brightly, the soft snow getting caught on the curls in her hair. Pressing his forehead against hers while his brother did whatever in God’s name it was that he was doing, he grinned. She was so happy. He could see it in her eyes, her smile wider than usual and she hadn’t stopped giggling. She hadn’t complained once during the trip up here and she wasn’t complaining now over his brother forcing them all to stand outside in the freezing cold staring up at his parents’ house. And nothing brought him more satisfaction than knowing that he could do that. Could make her happy. And as God as his witness, he would stop at nothing to keep that smile on her face every single day. And the same one on Quinn’s as well. Rubbing her cold nose against his she looked away as Nicky bumped into his leg.

“What do you say about a snowball fight, Uncle Shay?” Nicky whispered, looking over his shoulder as if to see if anyone heard him.

Chuckling, Shay bent down to Nicky’s eye level. The kid was just like him in every way that mattered and it was cool as hell. “Oh, yeah,” he jerked his chin towards the rest of the lawn. “And who’s your first target?”

“Well, I may not live to see my ninth birthday if I go for Ma. And Dad, well he has been through enough with my ma yelling at him all the time and I just feel bad for him,” he shook his small head and Shay smiled. “Cassidy’s a pain and will just cry, but definitely not Lena. She’s faster than I am.”

“Well whoever it is,” Whitney smirked, looking down at them as Quinn pulled at the small hat on her head. “As long as there are no more fights where fists connect with heads on the ground.”

Laughing quietly, Shay agreed. “Maybe later little man,” he looked back at Nicky, ruffling his hair. “It will give you more time to find your first victim.”

Standing up, he smacked Whitney’s ass playfully. “Very funny.”

“Mmhmm,” she grinned, fixing Quinn’s hat again. He remembered that football game. Not just because it had only been a few short weeks ago, but because it had been the annual Cunningham Thanksgiving game. That game was as deep as traditions ran in his family, but one that had gotten nastier this year than any other before it. Resulting in him and Rory rolling around in the dirt punching each other in the guts. And the head. And the nuts. All before a huge screaming match that resulted in a fat lip for Rory and a nice shiner for himself. It was a low point in their relationship. One that Whitney and every other member of the family had a front row to seat to witness as years and years of resentment and suffocating tension finally came to blows. Luckily, things were calmer now. Which he was grateful for. Real grateful.

“You ready?!” Rory yelled, trotting as fast as his left leg would allow towards the rest of them.

“Get on with it already Clark Griswold,” Shay shouted, as his mother and Whitney both smacked his arm at the same time. In less than a second the entire house burst into light in front them causing them all to squint.

Holy shit.

The kids cheering loudly, they jumped up and down as everyone else clapped. Looking back at his parents’ home he was thoroughly impressed.

And proud.

The first thing he had done with his bonus from signing with the Mavericks was put money down on a plot of land and hired an architect to build them the unreasonably large home. He’d wanted a place for them to move around. Yards and porches and rooms to enjoy. Something so unlike what they had been accustomed to. What they had in the tiny, two bedroom, aluminum siding home where they had all grown up. Being immigrants, his parents had worked their entire lives. And worked hard. They sacrificed for him and his brothers and they deserved it.

This house.

They also deserved enough space to do this. To have his whole, rambunctious family in one place and under one roof during the holidays. And looking around the lawn at his entire family, he knew he had accomplished that.

“Wow,” Whitney sighed, next to him as her and Quinn looked up at all the lights. The brightness shining on both of them, he rested his mouth on the top of her head. How had he gotten so lucky? He wasn’t sure, but on a list of memories that would forever be burned into his memory, this moment was pretty high up there. Taking in his parents’ home, every point and arch of the house was bordered with lights as white candles and wreaths decorated every single window. Lights that resembled icicles hung from the roof and blinked as every tall tree around the property was wrapped from trunk to top in blinking lights. The entire lawn covered in moving figures, some he had grown up with and others he had never seen before, all eight of his nieces and nephews ran towards them and touched them as if they were magic.

“Who wants dessert?” Ma yelled, and everyone cheered. Kissing the top of Erin’s head, Cian winked down at her before helping her inside as Nicky and Lena raced each other up to the front porch. Scooping up Cassidy, Uncle Tommy threw her over his shoulder earning loud squeals before tapping Rory on the shoulder. Walking slowly behind Holly, Finn carried Maeve and high fived Rory. Wrapping his arm around Whitney and Quinn, Shay led them back up the lawn.

“Great job, sweetheart,” his ma kissed Rory’s cheek gently before heading towards the house. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Siobhan kissed Rory hard and for the first time in a long time he actually saw his brother smile. Really smile. And he was glad. Giving him another kiss, Siobhan skipped up the lawn to catch up to Fiona.

Smacking his hand down on Rory’s shoulder, Shay nodded at his brother as he walked by. Rory’s arm pausing on his chest, Shay stopped. “A minute?”

Smiling, Whitney squeezed his arm before giving Rory a small hug telling him what a great job he had done. Watching her and Quinn walk back up to the porch through the snow, he dug his hands inside his pockets as Rory swiped his hand across his mouth. A nervous habit they both shared. They were both quiet a minute, looking up at the house that he knew his brother had spent the last few days perfecting. For the family.

“It’s a…” Rory cleared his throat and Shay looked out of the corner of his eye. He looked uncomfortable. And although they were still new at this again - this whole shooting the shit thing, Rory looked nervous. “It’s been brought to my attention that I need to choose a best man for this wedding.”

Swallowing back Shay lifted his hand from his pocket and smoothed his mouth slowly. He wanted to say that it hadn’t crossed his mind. That he never once wondered who his brother would choose as his best man, but that would be a lie. With Whitney helping them pull off their wedding, it had been constant chatter over the past few weeks. There was a time when he wouldn’t have thought twice about being Rory’s best man. A title he would have donned proudly, but life had happened and things had changed. They faced adversity and that was just the way it was. “Well I’m sure Finn will do a fine job for ya,” he forced, digging the tip of his boot into the thick snow. Every single day that had led up to the night of their accident he never would have imagined not being his brother’s best friend.

His best man.

“Yeah, well,” Rory scratched the back of his neck shifting uncomfortably. “I was kind of thinking that maybe you would suit the job better.”

His throat tight with emotion, it felt as if he just saw every single memory between him and Rory replay in his mind in a flash. Every high five on the field in peewee football, every cannon ball into the lake on scorching hot summer days, every race down the street to get to the ice cream truck. Driving off in their piece of junk car and throwing their caps out the window the night of graduation and every Saturday night up at Arrow Hill hanging around a bonfire with friends. Every college acceptance letter they had laid out on their twin size beds and every day in the hospital after their accident. Every tension filled family gathering and every pact they had ever made.

“Awe, are you giving me the final rose, big brother?” Shay grinned. He had to give him a hard time. He couldn’t help it. If not, he was afraid he’d break down and he couldn’t have that.

“Cut the bullshit,” Rory barked back, his eyebrows drawing. Ah, now there was his charming brother. “Are ye’ gonna make me beg?” he bitched. “Because I won’t.”

No. He wouldn’t make him beg. Chuckling, Shay held out his hand to his brother. His best friend. And certainly his best man. “It’d be my honor.”

Taking his hand after a moment, Rory pulled Shay into a hard hug smacking his back hard. Shaking his hand again, they looked back at the house, keeping his arm wrapped around his brother. Another moment that would forever be imprinted in his memory. They had come a long way and he was glad. Real fucking glad. Pointing up to the furthest window on the third floor, he drew Rory’s attention. “You know I think you missed a spot right up there in the-”

“-Shut your mouth, eh!” Rory pushed, him up the lawn. “Fucking chancer.”

8

Standing inside the entrance of the kitchen, Whitney rested her head against the wall. Admiring Shay rinsing off another dish, she watched every muscle tighten under his grey sweater before he leaned down putting the plate inside the dishwasher. Gosh, she loved this man. And had loved him for a real long time. She couldn’t quite remember the exact moment when it had happened. When she had fallen in love with Shay. Perhaps it had been the moment she had found him rocking her sweet baby girl back to sleep when Quinn had come down with her first fever. Or when he had insisted that they spend the holiday with his family so that they wouldn’t be alone. It could have been the time he had written her the first love letter she had ever received, that memory sending chills up her arms now. But if she closed her eyes long enough she could still feel how tightly he had held onto her hand, getting her through delivering Quinn. How he had found her alone, terrified and in pain about to give birth in the Mavericks stadium. How he had stayed by her side. Yes, perhaps that had been when it happened.

Placing the empty dessert plates in the center of the counter she came behind him before wrapping her arms around his tight waist. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked down at her before shooting her a wink. Burying her nose inside the fibers of his sweater, he smelled so good.

Like fresh air.

Like a man.

And pie.

Turning off the water, he turned around pulling the dishrag off his large shoulder.

“You know what,” she rested her chin against his chest, admiring his crystal blue eyes, “I don’t think I’ve seen you look sexier than you do right now.”

Scoffing, he dried his hands behind her back before tossing the rag onto the far counter. Wrapping his arms around her waist he pulled her tighter against his tall, solid body. “Then I’m doing something wrong, Sunshine.”

Giggling, she rested against him taking in every sharp edge of his face. Every slice of light hair dusting across his face. The way his eyes sparkled with equal parts love and mischief. He also seemed at peace and she could tell he was happy. And nothing made her happier than seeing Shay happy. “Need some help?” she whispered, pursing her lips out for him.

“Yeah,” he grinned, kissing her softly, his lips so warm. “Ma needs a break.”

Picking up the dishrag she stood beside him easily drying the plates that he handed her as she stole quick peeks at the television screen every time the kids laughed at Home Alone. No doubt learning new pranks to play on each and every one of them. Fiona lay on the couch next to Patrick wrapped inside a thick blanket, both relaxed and it was nice to see the woman take a break for once. Cian rubbed Erin’s feet as Cassidy lay next to them. Rory’s head resting in Siobhan’s lap, he was beginning to doze in and out of sleep. He must have been so tired. That light show was nothing short of amazin’. Smiling, she saw Quinn had finally stopped fighting it and had fallen asleep in Holly’s arms, exhausted after a long, beautiful day with all her new cousins. Quinn would never remember this extraordinary day, but she would.

Forever.

Feeling Shay’s lips on her neck, she smiled before her eyes drifted shut. Feeling the tips of his fingers brush down her arms, her body shivered. The way her body responded to Shay was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She thought she would have become better acquainted and comfortable with how he made her feel, but she hadn’t. And she knew she would never get used to the power of his touch, the glorious burn of his kiss or how good his fingers felt gripping her body against the sink.

“Come with me, Sunshine.”

9

Nearly kicking in the door to his pops’ shed, Shay pulled Whitney inside colliding her body against his. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed her. Needed to be with her. On top of her. Inside of her.

“Shay, I told you,” she moaned, between his kisses. “We are not doing this in your parents’ home.”

Moaning again, her lips calling her bluff on what her mouth was saying, he trailed his mouth down her sweet, sweet neck nearly groaning himself. “You said home,” he pointed out, taking her face between his hands, her gorgeous mouth swollen. “This is the shed.”

Shaking her head he looked down at her. She amazed him. That everything he ever wanted was standing right before him. That he could touch her. Kiss her. Feel her. And it wasn’t just one thing about her, it was everything about her. All of it.

“Come on, Sunshine,” he smirked, moving his hands down her back before resting them on her ass. “You’re going to be a Cunningham real soon,” he lifted her up in one movement, forcing her feet from underneath her. “Cunninghams are adventurous.”

Laughing gently, she pushed her forehead against his as his foot got stuck on something on the floor. Both of them nearly going down, Whitney let out a cry before covering her mouth and laughing inside his neck. Chuckling, he kicked the object across the floor bumping them into a tall work bench. Placing her down, she cried out again. “Shay it’s freezing out here!”

Looking over his shoulder, he grabbed a flashlight off another stool. He knew his pops kept a heater out here somewhere. At least he hoped. Clicking the light, he stepped over a large metal tool box and pushed aside another crate.

There it is.

She was right. It was cold as balls out here. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed her. Cold balls or not.

Placing it on the stool beside the bench, he ignited the old space heater. Putting the flashlight down behind her on the ledge, he moved between her legs as she shook her head again. She always did that. Looked at him as if he was crazy. And she was right. He was crazy. Crazy over her. Running his thumb across her lip, her eyes dusted shut like he knew they would. Lifting her chin he kissed her mouth, biting then licking before slowly working his way down her chin. Her fingers digging into his shoulders, he moved his hands beneath her shirt and he felt her reaction beneath his fingertips. Running his hands up further, he stretched his fingers across her ribs as his name rolled off her lips. And he suddenly became painfully aware of just how much he craved her. Lifting up her shirt, he tossed it across the shed as his mouth landed on the warm skin of her chest. Letting her head fall back, she cried louder and he smiled to himself.

Yes. He already knew that he couldn’t have sex with her inside his parents’ house. She was too loud. And he loved it.

Undoing her bra, her breasts released and his mouth went like a magnet to each of them. She was cold, he could tell, but it wasn’t deterring her. Threading her hands through his hair, she pulled him closer. He craved this wild side of her. The vocal, unrepressed side that nobody knew about. That nobody would ever suspect.

Feeling her fingers move to the edges of his sweater, she pulled it up over his head and just like she had done every single time they had been together, her mouth rested gently against the tattoo inked over his heart. The Celtic words reading Your feet will bring you to where your heart is. His throat still got tight when he thought about her finding him at the top of his favorite mountain just a few weeks ago. Telling him that she loved him and reciting those exact same words to him before he made for damn sure that she would be resting her mouth against them for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Running her hands down his chest, Whitney enjoyed every inch of Shay’s muscles tighten beneath her palms. Her hands struggling to cover his chest, his whole body tensed before his hands gripped around her bottom. Running his strong, rough hands around her thighs she swallowed a groan. Suddenly pulling her thick, black tights from beneath her, she let out a squeal as she fell backwards on the work desk. Laughing, a tin can and something else she couldn’t make out fell down around her as she covered her face. Chuckling, he asked if she was okay, but it still wasn’t enough for him to stop. To slow him down. Running his hands back up her legs, she shivered. The heater had been doing its job, but so had Shay. Her body felt like a glorious combination of ice-cold and fire. Jumping onto the work bench on top of her, more supplies fell around them as she buried herself beneath him. “Is this daring enough for you, Mr. Cunningham?”

Chuckling, she looked up at him, the soft light of the flashlight splashing across his face. A smile pinching the sides of his mouth, he attacked her mouth nearly sucking the breath right out of her. And like she always had to do, she slowed him down. Every moment with Shay ignited her body and filled her heart and blurred her senses and she wanted to enjoy every single minute of him. Every single second.

“Yes. Yes, it is my bride,” he whispered between their lips and it was her undoing. Her heart exploding, every memory and emotion from the past twenty-four hours rushed through her entire body. She was going to marry this man. This selfless, spectacular, skillful and self-assured man. Undoing his belt, she pushed his dress pants down his long legs with her feet as he made love to her neck. The thing about Shay was that he was always in control. He took what he wanted and owned confidence in every word he spoke and move he made. But when they were together he seemed almost vulnerable. Gentle and exposed.

And she loved that.

Gasping as he eased inside of her, she let him set the pace. Gladly. Digging his head against her cheek she could feel the sweat now dripping from his forehead. The shed was now burning hot and she sucked in a hot, thick breath, hooking her leg over his hip. Picking up his pace, he moved her beneath him as more tools and trinkets fell around them and she screamed out.

“Shhh,” he chuckled, not slowing his pace, a wave of intensity rolling through her body. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

Screaming out his name, she bit into his shoulder, masking her cries. Grunting, she felt him finally let go before his body collapsed on top of her. “I’m,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath. The air both hot and thick. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t the quietest during sex and she should be embarrassed by that, but she wasn’t. Not with Shay. Lifting his head, he looked down at her. He didn’t like it when she apologized for anything. Even less for apologizing for just being herself. Apologizing for anything that made her happy. And it was one of the reasons she loved him so much. She was working on the apology thing, just as she knew he was working on his cussin’.

“What am I going to do with you, Sunshine?”

10

Hearing a mix of voices outside the shed, Shay looked down at Whitney beneath him, her face soft, and a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Shit.

He was one lucky bastard.

Her hair wild, brown and red strands shined from the dim light of the flashlight. Small pieces sticking to her face, she took his breath away. And if he could have it his way, they would be married tonight. Right here. Right now.

But she deserved more.

She deserved everything and he was so proud that he was the man who was going to give that to her. Although, he knew his Little Miss Fancy Pants would be a hard sell for a lavish, over the top wedding. She loved simplicity. The meaningful details of things and traditions. A lot of traditions. It was one of the things he loved most about her in fact. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Whatever she wanted she would have because all he wanted was this woman by his side and Quinn in his arms.

“What kind of wedding do you want?” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Smiling up at him, his chest got tight and he didn’t think he could love her more than he did in this moment right here. But that was the thing about Whitney. She had him falling in love with her more and more each day.

Cupping his face gently, he closed his eyes a fraction against the warmth. Bringing him down to her lips, she whispered between them. “The kind that makes me your wife.”

Securing the two buttons on the top of his sweater, Shay watched Whitney slip her arms through the sleeves of her dress. “Gosh Shay, everyone is going to see us leaving this shed.”

Smirking, he ran his hand through his hair picking up her shoes and handing them to her. “And?”

“And?” she repeated, slipping her feet into her knee high boots. “And it’s tacky.”

“No it’s not,” he scoffed, slipping his jacket back on, much more relaxed than when he had entered this shack. “Where do you think most of the kids were conceived?” he jerked his chin towards the house. “You and Holly could go toe to toe in how loud you both are.”

“Shay!”

“What?” he chuckled, helping her with her jacket. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Smacking him gently on the shoulder as he opened the door, she followed him out of the shed. He wanted to laugh while she fussed with her hair, as if it mattered. Reaching for her hand, they made their way back up the lawn, as Rory and Finn shook their heads looking amused.

“On ye’ mark. Get set. Go!” Uncle Tommy yelled, before taking a sip of his pint as Kellan, Caleb and Lena pushed their sleds down the slope sitting on the furthest side of the yard. Spotting Siobhan making small snowballs with Quinn plopped in the snow between her legs, he smiled. Quinn squealed as she touched the snow before trying to put it in her mouth. Alright, maybe Siobhan wasn’t that bad.

“Here,” his mother sang as they headed up the deck, handing him and Whitney a flannel blanket. Wrapping it around Whitney, he hugged her close against him as her head fell against his chest. Handing Whitney a cup of hot chocolate, his mother smiled as she made her way down the deck handing out more mugs. His mother was happy, he could see it. And looking out at Rory and Finn starting a snowball fight with Kieran and Cassidy, he rested his chin on the top of Whitney’s head and smiled. He didn’t know what he did to deserve the best family in the entire world. He also didn’t know what he had done to be accepting of such an incredible woman and a beautiful new daughter. The sight of Quinn reminding him of the adoption papers he had handed Whitney just last night. “As soon as we get home, Sunshine, you need to sign the adoption papers.”

“Absolutely,” Whitney hummed before waving out to Quinn.

“Your father wants them filed before the New Year for a fast turnaround.”

Feeling her stiffen inside his arms, she moved her head before turning around and looking at him. Confused and concerned just as he knew she would be. “Papa?”

Time hadn’t been on his side after his pops’ surgery and in between practices and helping Whitney and Quinn move into the house. He’d wanted to get the papers filed as soon as possible so that he could officially adopt Quinn. She was already five months old and that was twenty-one weeks too long of him not being her father. Her protector. The one who was going to care for her every single day from scraped knees and fevers to standing behind her as she took her first steps and waving goodbye on her first day of school. He also needed Adam to sign over his rights as Quinn’s biological father. He hadn’t been surprised at all when the bastard signed the papers without a gripe. But in an attempt to speed up the entire process, he had reached out to Whitney’s father. The fact that he hadn’t asked questions and said he would handle everything. Well that, that had surprised him. “I contacted him because I needed Adam to sign over his legal rights and your father was the only one who could get it done fast enough.”

It was still a tender subject. Her parents. They weren’t warm people, nothing at all like Whitney and Quinn. They wanted to control Whitney and he was proud of her. Proud that she had finally stood up for herself and refused to take their shit any longer. Her mother was pure evil and he was absolutely fine with that woman staying far away from his girls. But man to man, he could see that her father was making the effort. “He’s trying, Whit.”

Her eyebrows wrinkling a bit, she worked her lip. She was so good. So pure and sweet. He knew that walking out of her parents’ house and standing up for herself had been extremely difficult on her and he could tell that a big part of her was still hurting. Especially today. On Christmas. Kissing the lines against her forehead, he pulled her into a hug and looked up as the snow began to fall once again.

Feeling snow hit the side of his head, he looked up at Nicky, a sly smirk on his skinny face. Lifting his brow, Nicky was still as they both stared each other down across the yard. Jerking quickly, Whitney yelped as Shay jumped over the deck railing landing on his feet. Running after Nicky, he laughed, grabbing some snow, balling it up before throwing it at Nicky as he ducked left.

Damn, the kid had his fast reflexes too.

Cassidy and Lena screamed out at the shrill volume that only little girls could achieve, throwing snow at Holly as she hid behind Finn. Running back up the hill, Caleb and Kellan started rolling up snow before chucking both of them at Uncle Tommy. Dropping the sleds down, Cian made a direct, determined beeline for Erin, resting his hands on her cheeks before kissing her. Hard. Nicky and Cassidy throwing snow at them whining for them to stop, they ignored everyone. Picking Siobhan up, Rory threw her over his shoulder telling Lena and Kieran to get her.

They didn’t hesitate.

Watching Whitney pick up Quinn, she laughed shaking her head as his ma wrapped her arm around both of them. Running around the yard with his family ducking from another bomb of a snowball from Nicky, it felt like every Christmas gift he had ever received all rolled into one. Because the only thing better than coming back home with the love of his life and a beautiful new daughter after leading his team into the playoffs, was simply just being a Cunningham.

The

End

Coming Soon…

“Y’all ready for today?”

Nodding to the security guard holding the elevator door for her, Emme McGovern stepped inside. Smirking to herself, she watched the doors close.

Are we ready?

Of course we were ready. The Carolina Mavericks had secured and dominated their spot inside the playoffs and there was only one game standing between them and charting off to San Diego for the Super Bowl. The door chiming above her, she stepped off the elevator picking up her pace, her Louboutins clicking against the floor. Instinctively turning into the third suite box she saw her boss’s lined up against the glass looking at the incomparable aerial view of the football field. The dome was open, the crowd was electric, every single seat filled with a fan. Today was going to be a great day.

“Oh, look who decided to grace us today,” Bill Mathis, her boss grinned, looking behind him as the team’s new owner, Dean Prescott looked over his shoulder.

“Some unsuspecting tourists nearly lost a day of their life after deciding to stop in front of me on Route 1024,” her brows rose as she stood between them. Snickering, her bosses continued to discuss amongst themselves and she admired the scene before her. To her right was the new team owner, the man who poured millions of dollars into the Mavericks organization and to her left, the general manager who dedicated his entire life to making careful and precise decisions for the same team. And then there was her. The assistant. The one on the right didn’t know it yet, but she was going to take his job one day. And she was going to utilize the man on her left to do it. Looking down in the club boxes below her, she saw the quarterback’s wife Liv with their twin girls and Chelsea, Trevor Perry, their tight end’s wife and their son anxiously awaiting kickoff.

“Have you booked your suite, yet?” Prescott asked Mathis, a sly grin crossing his face.

Raising a brow, Mathis looked down at her. Shaking her head, she pointed towards the stadium. The Mavericks had this. They were going to the Super Bowl, she didn’t doubt that for a minute. But she was also superstitious and she wasn’t booking any suites or penthouses in San Diego until the confetti from this championship game settled tonight. Bowing her head as a young country starlet belted the National Anthem, chills ran up her arms in anticipation watching the captains walk onto the field for the coin toss. Clapping as the Mavericks got the ball first, she crossed her arms.

Here we go.

Watching the ball soar through the air, Shay Cunningham caught it in the twenty. Smiling to herself she remembered only eight weeks ago she had lost countless hours of sleep pushing numbers and calling in favors to make sure that they had enough money to keep Cunningham on the Mavericks during contract negotiations. He was an incredible receiver, arguably the best and paired with Monaghan and Perry, they were lethal. And a stadium housing over seventy thousand fans, the entire city of Charleston was counting on that power team to take them all the way this year.

Watching Monaghan work the ball down the field, Perry ran it down to the ten as the stadium went crazy. Denver was tough- undoubtedly the toughest competitor this season, but the Mavericks had more heart. You could feel it in the air, see it in their moves and if she looked close enough she could almost touch it too. They wouldn’t allow this to slip between their hands. Stepping closer towards the glass, she watched as Monaghan handed the ball off to fullback, Austin Kendrick. Jumping over the end zone, the stadium went crazy; navy and teal towels waving in the air as the Mavs scored the first touchdown of the game.

Silently thanking Jesus, Emme looked over at Prescott shaking his fist in the air. Showing as much liveliness as an esteemed team owner was allowed to show. Looking down at her, Mathis winked. She loved the man. She really did. He dressed absolutely ridiculous and looked like a walking heart attack, but he was her mentor. “Better get that room ready, McGovern.”

Shaking Prescotts’ hand hard as Colbie got the field goal, the stadium went nuts. She knew the game better than anyone in this room. Maybe even better than anyone in this stadium. She was going to cheer this team on and then she was going to own it one day as well. She hadn’t spent the last three years making Mathis look like a shining star inside this organization for nothing. Watching Denver and the Mavericks go tit for tat well into the second quarter she leaned over the glass as Monaghan lined up again. The Mavericks’ offense was something to be admired today, but Denver’s defense was out for blood. Handing the ball off to the Mavericks running back she held her breath. Just one more touchdown and they would have the lead they needed heading into halftime. Feeling Mathis and Prescott tense up beside her, she watched and cheered through her teeth as the Mav ran down the field.

“Run boy, run,” Mathis growled and she gripped the top of the glass.

We have this.

Noticing the Denver lineman showing no signs of stopping, she looked back at their running back sprinting hard just inches from the goal line. Holding her breath, the defense slammed into him, his body going left as the ball went right. Flipping over the lineman, his body circled before stopping the gruesome hit by slamming onto the ground.

The entire stadium deflating like a balloon, she looked down at their running back face down on the field, her stomach twisting. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? Paramedics rushing the field, several Mavericks players tore off their helmets running over as Prescott and Mathis’s phones rang simultaneously. Standing up on the chair for a better view of the field over the glass, she was certain of two things. She had just witnessed the end of the Mavericks season. And quite possibly, the end of a man’s career.

Also by Julianna Marley

Want more Mavericks?

False Start (The Mavericks Series)

Hail Mary (The Mavericks Series)

About the Author

Julianna Marley is fairly certain that she was born on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line and is in constant search of warmth, water and sunshine.

When not writing about all the places she yearns to be, she can be found cheering on her favorite football teams, taking long, romantic strolls down the aisles of Target and getting bossed around by a sweet and sassy five year-old.

Julianna lives life with an exclamation point and she wouldn't have it any other way!

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Twitter: @julianna_marley

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