I look at him to find him already looking back at me. In addition to fitting in with my family so wholly, his steady presence is always so reassuring. As if our hearts speak their own language, our kindred souls destined to meet.
The enormity of the upcoming wedding hits me, only it doesn’t scare me. I’m not nervous to go all in, I can’t freaking wait. So much has changed this holiday season, yet the love gathered around this table reaffirms it’s here to stay.
Simon lifts his glass, the reddish liquid gleaming in the candlelight. “To a merry Christmas, a merry wedding, and an even merrier future. Cheers.”
My mom beams and lifts her own glass. “Cheers!”
Grandma adds hers to the mix, and I clink my rim against theirs, joining in. “Hear, hear,” I say with extra gusto. I mean it extra, after all.
Once we’ve cleared dinner off the table, my mom brings out the gingerbread cookies she baked and decorated this afternoon. We could’ve helped her if she would’ve waited a while longer, but I must’ve gotten my overachiever gene from her.
Grandma picks up a frosted gingerbread man, inspecting his eyes, mouth, and lederhosen. “You’ve outdone yourself, Anna. These look almost too pretty to eat.”
“Almost,” Simon says, snatching a cookie from the plate and biting off his gingerbread man head. Icing drips down his lip, a drizzle of red. He flashes a messy grin at me, no shame, and I get the giggles.
“You’re a mess,” I say, swiping the icing off his lower lip with my thumb and popping it in my mouth.
Simon goes stock-still, his warm breath wafting over me as his gaze drops and lingers on my mouth. His eyes darken with passion, a suggestive glint flickering in what’s left of the green.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rougher and perilously low. “Unless you want to find out just how much of a mess I can make.”
Now I’m the one paused in place, unable to swallow or breathe. All I can think about is his wicked promise and stripping him bare again.
“We need to put on a Christmas movie,” Grandma says, and I inhale so harshly at the reminder of her presence, I nearly choke on that one dollop of frosting.
“Yes, for sure.” I cough and grab a cookie of my own, attempting to recover from my naughty fiancé’s flirting. Using my cookie as cover, I shield my mouth and whisper under my breath, “Don’t forget that naughty boys get coal in their stockings.”
Jamming in a bite of my gingerbread woman cookie with a red dress with extra sprinkles, I return my attention to grandma. “Which movie would you like me to put on?”
She makes a fist and hovers it over her flat palm. “Let’s play rock, paper, scissors for it. Winner gets to pick.”
“Why bother,” I tease, snagging the glass with the last of Simon’s wine and using it to wash down my bite of cookie. “You’re just going to overrule us with one of the old classics.”
“Ah!” She makes an offended noise in the back of her throat, but it hasn’t escaped my notice that she didn’t exactly disagree. “I’m giving y’all a fair chance. It’s not my fault you always lose.”
One cheek pops out with my next bite of cookie. “Oh, it’s on now, Grams. And if I win, I’m choosing a rom-com.”
Simon’s groan is over-the-top dramatic. “Nobody told me the stakes are life or death.”
Now I’m turning an exasperated noise on him. It doesn’t do nearly enough to dissuade him from giving me a hard time, so I jab an elbow in his side.
The grunt he makes sends satisfaction through me, and in proof we’ve both lost our minds a little, we’re pinching and shoving each other on the couch like disobedient children.
Next thing I know, I’m squirming in his arms. He holds me in a looping embrace, keeping my arms pinned to my sides.
“Hurry,” Simon says to my grandma. “She’ll never win now.”
“Joke’s on you. You and I are a team, so we either win as a team, or we?-“
“Go!” At Grandma’s yell, she, my mom, and Simon slam their fists against their palms. “One, two, three. Aha!”
With her flat palm that represents paper, she beats out Simon’s rock. As well as my mom’s clenched first, also rock. While I had a feeling my mom rigged the results, we all know that we’ll end up watching
It’s a Wonderful Life anyway.
Save Simon, I guess.
Not only is he a quick learner, he certainly doesn’t complain as we snuggle up on the couch together.
Everything feels exactly as it should-like our family’s about to gain a member and he fits right in. He loves me, and he’s not afraid to show it. Around him, I’m my best self, no more settling or never feeling good enough.
Somewhere along the way, Simon’s become my home. As much as our humble house and my grandmother and my mom are home to me.
Just when I think my heart can’t possibly hold more joy, he brushes a featherlight kiss to my temple. “This is already my favorite Christmas.”
I nuzzle closer to the man I’ve decided to give my heart to this Christmas. I press my lips to his jaw, a thrill going through me at the bob of his throat. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head, I’m a woman in love, so I toss out a confession of my own. “You’re my very favorite present.”
Then comes the question I wish didn’t automatically follow: now, what exactly do I have to do to keep you?
Simon
I climb out of the backseat of a glossy black sedan, adjusting the cuffs of my suit as the evening air nips at my skin.
It’s been in the low 40s today, making it the coldest day I’ve spent in Texas so far. Given the tuxedo with all the extra layers, I’m not complaining. Just as long as I can keep Victoria comfortable.
The elegant venue in front of us is a study in modernism, angled lines, every corner precisely ninety degrees. Glass panels reflect the sherbet-colored skyline, pink and purple clouds meeting a row of similarly shiny vehicles.
Red velvet ropes and two men in black suits guard the entrance. While they occasionally appear to speak to no one, they’re undoubtedly equipped with coms. This evening’s charity auction is just kicking off, and it won’t be long until I finally reveal the truth.
Not just to my bride-to-be, but to everyone in attendance.
It wouldn’t be long till the news spread, either. In a lot of ways, this was my last brush with anonymity. I can’t enjoy it, as Victoria arrived ahead of me and my focus is caught up in finding her.
Due to the nature of the big reveal, I’d met Luis in his hotel lobby a few miles away. I’d left Victoria with the invitation and sent a car for her. I never would’ve guessed she would arrive earlier than I did, or I would’ve insisted on getting to the event a few minutes earlier.
I lift my phone and read the text again. Sure enough, it says she’s in the line to get inside, only a handful of guests away from the entrance.
While I haven’t spotted her yet, I see the backs of two heads I’d prefer I never see again. That’s enough for me to test the slick soles of my polished, patent-leather shoes with no padding or tread.
At the head of blond curls pulled into a low bun, ringlets spilling down around her shoulders, my heart jolts at the same rate I do. Carl and Jade are only a few people behind her, inspiring me to push faster still.
But Carl spots her before I can reach them, his booming voice loud enough for anyone in the near vicinity to hear. “Victoria? Don’t tell me you’re actually trying to get into this event. We’re not together anymore. How long is that gonna take to get through your head? It’s getting embarrassing.”
“Speaking of embarrassing, you’re not going to be on the guest list. This is a classy affair.” Jade can’t leave it at that, her heart too black and dead-the exact opposite of her cousin. “That fiancé you picked out of the garbage isn’t going to be on the list, either. Nobody’s here to save you this time.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.