On Christmas morning, Luke got up out bed, buttoned up his plaid shirt, fit his blue cap on his head, and went out to the dark house. Six o’clock wasn’t exactly early by his usual standards, but he’d started sleeping in since he arrived in Nantucket, a fact that he hated and tried to remedy but never could. But today was Christmas and, as such, he had a very important job to do.
Jess’ awoke to a pleasant weight on his chest. When he opened his eyes, he found Rory snuggled in the crook of his arm, her blue eyes blinking up at him. “Hey,” he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
Her lips curled up, her eyes warm and tender. “Hi.”