Page 13 of The Make-Believe Marriage

She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t push me away. Instead, she matches my urgency, wrapping her hands around my neck and pulling me closer.

It’s the sounds of cheers and whistles that finally break through the haze and bring me to my senses.

I back up the tiniest bit, keeping a hand on Krysten’s waist, not willing to let go of her completely. I scan her face carefully, anxious about what I would read in it. It couldn’t be worse than that letter. Except it could.

To my relief, I don’t read rejection. Instead, her cheeks are pink, her lips red and a bit swollen, and her expression is an intoxicating mix of embarrassment and joy. It’s the best present I could have asked for.

“Does that mean you’ll spend Christmas with me?” I ask.

The entire bus grows silent. Krysten doesn’t say a word. After a second that spreads into eternity, she nods and grabs her bags from the overhead compartment.

We exit the bus to a round of applause. Even the driver doesn’t look like he’s ready to call the police anymore.

“Merry Christmas,” I call out to everyone and lead the woman who has walked into my house and into my heart to my car.

Chapter 7

Krysten

“Ican’t believe you did this.” I don’t try to hide the huge grin on my face as we drive back into Wilmington, his hand wrapped around mine, holding on to me like he’s worried I’ll jump out and chase after that bus.

“That was something else, wasn’t it? I went a little crazy when I read your letter. Did I embarrass you?” he asks, shooting me a quick glance before returning to watch the dark road ahead of us.

“A little.” But it had also been incredibly romantic. Like something out of a Richard Gere movie.

“Why did you do it? Leave without talking to me,” he asks as the city grows closer.

“I didn’t think there was anything to talk about. Your sister?—”

“Ignore my sister. About this and most other things. She’s worried about me. She’s the one who found me after ...”

“After what? What happened with you and your fiancée? There’s more to this than you let on, isn’t there?” I ask, hoping he trusts me enough to tell me the full story. And if he doesn’t,I might have to find my way back onto that bus, even after the move he pulled chasing after me like that.

“Friends introduced us about two years ago. We got along well enough, and after a while, she kept hinting at taking the next step. So I proposed. We set the date for a June wedding.” Tom takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. His eyes are firmly on the road in front of us.

I sit quietly, letting him get this out in his own time.

“Mindy went missing during the rehearsal dinner. I went looking for her and found her in some storage closet with my best man. I called the whole thing off then and there.”

We’re stopped at a traffic light. Tom won’t look at me.

I take his hand and squeeze it. “No wonder you let everyone at work believe you’d gone through with the wedding.” I can’t imagine how painful and embarrassing the experience had been for him. “You and the guy were close?”

“Best friend since first grade. Not anymore, of course.” He shakes his head and drives when the light goes green.

We’re quiet until we get to the house. Tom insists on carrying my bag in for me. He sets it down at the bottom of the stairs.

“Now that you know the whole story ...” He looks toward me, but our eyes don’t connect. His gaze drifts above mine, over to the lit Christmas tree. Every light in the house is on, making the place bright and cheerful. So different from how I’d left it a little more than two hours ago.

“Now that I know the whole story, I’m glad you came chasing after me. And I’m glad I’m back here with you. Where I belong.” I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him.

“Are you sure?” He uses his hand to lift my chin, finally looking straight at me.

“Never been more sure of anything else in my life.” I move my arms from his waist to his neck, raise up on my toes, and kiss him.

He pulls me closer, and we both take our time. Savoring the taste and feel of each other as our lips move together.

“Merry Christmas, Krysten,” he whispers when we finally come up for air. His forehead is touching mine, our bodies pressed against each other, and I have no idea how long we stand there, holding each other up and reveling in the feeling of being together, right here in this old Victorian where we belong.

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