Falling for the Grinch ✔️

Epilogue

Holly

Six Months Later

"Christmas in July?"

I don't even know why he is so surprised. Of course, when it comes to me Christmas is an everyday thing. As it should be. Ignoring my boyfriend, I watch his Grandma open her gift. She smiles when she notices the red and green polka-dot nightgown I had gotten her just the other day.

I had first met Donna just a few weeks after I decided to stay here in Helena officially. Rhett insisted on it, which he did mention right before Christmas that he wanted us to meet, and I'm so glad I finally did. What a sweetheart she is and I can tell she thinks the absolute world of Rhett.

And so do I.

I've never been more happier in my life.

"Oh, dear. This is so kind of you, but you shouldn't have."

I quickly shake my head, watching as she continues to smile and feel the silky material between her fingers. Rhett had told me nightgowns are her favorite thing and I knew I had to get her one. "It's your birthday!" I exclaimed. "I know how much you love them and maybe when you see the Christmas colors you will think of me. I wanted to bring some happiness to you."

"I'm very happy, indeed. Thank you, sweetie. Gosh, she's just great isn't she?" His Grandma looks his way. Rhett, with his back against the wall, moves away and sits down beside us on her bed. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles. "She's amazing."

My cheeks grow warm at his sweet words. It's been six months since we've been officially dating and I still get butterflies when I'm around him.

Donna beams at us. "I have a good feeling about the two of you," she looks at Rhett. "Don't mess this up."

I can't help but laugh at the appalled look he gives her. "I wouldn't dream of it."

When it's time for her to eat supper, we give our goodbyes, hugging her as tight as I can before we leave the nursing home. We're riding in his truck with the windows down, the Montana air whipping through my hair as we listen to a playlist on his phone. Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to the Moon plays through the speakers.

Music always makes me feel like I'm at home.

I'm tapping to the beat of the song against my knee and singing along with Frank when Rhett chimes in. "I love it when you sing, baby."

I glance his way. "Yeah?"

He nods, reaching across the console to wrap his palm around my thigh. I mentally curse myself for wearing jeans and imagine the warmth from his hand against my naked skin.

"Well, you're lucky I didn't get to sing Happy Birthday to Donna because I can get pretty dramatic."

When I was around eight Mom recorded me on Dad's birthday as I stood on the kitchen table, waving my hands in the air and singing at the top of my lungs.

She swore I'd get a career in acting.

"I'd love nothing more than to see that performance," he tells me while keeping his eyes on the road. "Maybe for my birthday, you'll do that for me."