Tessa and Weston: The Best Christmas Ever by Abbie Emmons

Author:Abbie Emmons [Emmons, Abbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733973359
Publisher: Abbie Emmons
Published: 2021-10-31T18:30:00+00:00

Mrs. Ludovico knocks on the painted red door, which is adorned with an expensive-looking wreath. The whole house looks expensive, actually—a modern gray Hampton-style home with a cobblestone walkway leading up to the front porch.

The red door swings open, and a short woman with curly black hair appears with a smile.

“You must be Laura,” she says, reaching out to Weston’s mom for a handshake. “I’m Michelle. And these must be your kids—I’m sorry, I can’t remember their names.”

“My son Weston,” Mrs. Ludovico introduces us. “And Tessa isn’t mine—not yet, anyway.”

“Ahhh,” Michelle says with a knowing smirk. “I see.”

We both laugh awkwardly, blushing; Weston puts his arm around me.

“Well, come on in,” Michelle says, beckoning us inside the Pinterest-worthy house. She leads the way through a doorway and down a flight of stairs into the finished basement, which features a sprawling game room complete with a pool table and wet bar.

“My husband has been sharing his man cave with the puppies,” Michelle explains with a chuckle. “Needless to say, he’s looking forward to them going to their new homes.”

I spot them immediately—a swarm of fuzzy golden puppies all yipping and stumbling over each other at the other side of the room, which is wisely gated off from the carpeted area. Their mother lies on a dog bed nearby, looking worn out by her babies.

“Oh my gosh, they’re so adorable,” I croon. “Can I cuddle them?”

“Yeah, go right ahead,” Michelle says with a dismissive swat of her hand. Weston and I rush over to see the puppies.

They especially love Weston. He sits on the floor and gets literally dog-piled—the whole pack of fuzzy golden puppies tripping over his legs, licking his hands, and climbing into his lap. He laughs and pets them, and I sit back on my heels, watching—my heart swelling with cuteness overload.

There is something so unexplainably attractive about watching your boyfriend play with puppies. I snap a picture when he’s not looking, but I know nothing can capture this feeling of love spilling over inside me.

“Which one is ours?” I ask, tickling a little fuzzy belly as it rolls over for me.

“I think she said we can choose,” Weston says.

“That one really likes you.” I giggle as the puppy in his lap starts licking his face.

He lifts it up to look underneath. “It’s a boy, too.”

I move closer, sitting next to Weston and scratching the puppy behind its velvety ears. “He looks like a Thor.”

“Thor?”

“That’s what Henry wants to name his dog,” I explain with a self-satisfied smirk. “Bet you didn’t even think to ask him that.”

Weston laughs. “Nope. I didn’t.” He turns back to the puppy. “You want to come home with us, Thor?”

He yips excitedly and jumps up to kiss Weston again—tail wagging a mile a minute.

I grin. “That seems like a yes.”

Bringing a puppy home is more difficult than bringing a baby home. At least, that’s what Mrs. Ludovico says on the drive back to my house.

Thor sits in the backseat between Weston and me, looking up at me with those adorable brown eyes—it’s impossible to resist cuddling him.

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