Page 482 of The Christmas Wife

Nathan snorts, "More like, he’s going senile."

"And his befuddled image is just that." My husband raises a shoulder." A front. He’s a canny bastard who knows what he wants."

"Which is to get his grandchildren married off," Nathan says in a bitter tone.

"Not that I’m complaining." Eddie pulls me closer.

Nathan looks between us, and a strange look crosses his face. A mixture of longing and jealousy, if I’m interpreting it correctly. "You’re a lucky wanker—sorry about the swearing ladies." He apologizes to my friends.

"We’ve heard worse." Gio waves a regal hand. "We’re married to men who were all growly-faces like you at one point?—"

"Then they fell for the right woman and reformed," Summer says with a sunny smile.

Nathan squares his shoulders, and his expression morphs into one of resolution, like he’s making up his mind. "You mean, they’re hooked to the ol’ ball and chain?" He coughs.

"We heard that," Abby sings out as she and Penny enter the room with a bowl of popcorn, another of nachos, and a third one with salsa.

"A fate I intend to avoid at any cost," he growls.

My husband and I share a quiet smile. Gio and Penny, on the other hand, have no qualms, bursting into laughter.

"Poor man." I shake my head. "I feel sorry for what's coming."

"Something I’m missing?" Nathan frowns.

"No, nothing." Eddie stifles a grin. "Just as long as you make it to the bakery tomorrow."

Nathan drags his fingers through his hair. "Feels like a waste of my time. What do I know about the bakery business, anyway?"

To find out what happens next read Nathan and Skylar’s story HERE

Read an excerpt:

Skylar

"I can’t do this." I lock my fingers together and narrow my gaze at my reflection. I’m in the tiny bathroom adjoining my office at the back of my bakery—my baby, my enterprise into which I’ve poured my lifesavings. And now, it’s going to shut down. Unless I find the money for the rent next month, and for the utilities to keep the lights on so the sign on the shopfront continues to be lit up in pink and yellow neon, and for the supplies I need to continue baking. Etcetera. Etcetera.Cutie Pieis more than my dream; it’s my whole life. What I've worked toward since I was sixteen and knew I was going to become the most phenomenal baker in the world. And now, I'm going to lose it.

“Sure, you can.” My brother encourages me from the doorway. He grins. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”

“That’s what I used to think. It’s why I started this pastry shop.” That was six months ago. Followed by weeks of working eighteen-hour days and barely getting any sleep in my little apartment over the shop. Days of churning out my favorite cakes and pastries, showcasing the best ones on social media, and in short, doing everything possible to get my business off the ground. All, to no avail.

“Don’t give up. You have to believe this can take off,” Ben murmurs.

“Oh, trust me, I want to believe. But blind faith in yourself can only take you so far, apparently.” Despite having viral posts take off on social media and having a surge of customers over the past month, I'm still not making enough to salvage my business.

“Success is what’s beyond the dark night of the soul,” my brother, ever the wise one between the two of us, remarks.

“Is that a saying among you Royal Marines?” I scoff.

“It’s—"

The bell over the door at the front of the shop tinkles.

“—your destiny.” His lips curve in a smile.

“What?” I blink.

“The bell—it’s your future calling.”

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