Page 206 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“That’s a good question,” I say as I get to my feet. “The bride told Mary she would text her the location a half hour before the ceremony.”

Excitement fills her eyes. “Is it a celebrity wedding? Is the bride hiding from the paparazzi?”

Picking up my wallet and keys from the kitchen table, I let out a short laugh. “I’m pretty sure the bride isn’t a celebrity. Mary says she’s just…different.”

Curious about this wedding, I asked Mary plenty of questions on Thursday when I went over to help Aidan make his Christmas presents. She told me that she has no idea what to expect, especially since we’re apparently the only two people they invited.

After our phone conversation Wednesday night, which ended with me jerking off thinking about her in black lingerie, it’s been harder and harder not to touch her. Not to kiss her. Not to pin her against a wall, hike up one of her sexy skirts and take her. (Not that I would ever do such a thing with Aidan around.) Based on the long looks she’s been sending me, she feels the same way.

Aidan’s grandparents picked him up last night for another weekend in Charlotte, and tonight will be the first time we’vebeen alone since that call. No six-year-old chaperone to keep us from ripping each other’s clothes off.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Rosa says, pressing a hand to her chest. “You look stunning. Mary won’t be able to resist you.”

“We’re just friends, Mrs. Rosa,” I say with a sigh. Because at the moment, that’s all we are.

She walks over to me and lifts a hand to pat my cheek. “She might say that now, but when she sees you…” Her eyes dance with suggestion.

I laugh and pat her hand. From her lips to God’s ears, as my mother used to say.

Mrs. Rosa drops her hand. “You got everything you need?”

“I’m not off to my high school prom, Mrs. Rosa,” I say with a wry grin.

She puts her hands on her hips. “I should hope not.” She sizes me up, looking at me speculatively. “I didn’t see you stuff any condoms into those pockets.”

My mouth drops open. “Mrs. Rosa!”

“What?” she asks with a nonchalant shrug. “You better take some. Just to be safe.”

“Gotta cover it up,” Roger says, his head bobbing.

“What the hell is happening right now?” I ask. This is so out of character for both of them all I can think to do is run for it.

I start for the door, and Bingo catches my eye from the back of the sofa, giving me a stern look and a feed-me-right-now meow. “Shit. I need to feed Bingo.”

Mrs. Rosa gives me a soft push. “Go. We’ll take care of it.”

“His food is in the—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she grumbles, pushing me harder. “Go already. And get a photo of the two of you. I want to see you together.”

“We’ll see,” I say, then burst out the door before she can give me a handful of condoms in assorted colors and textures.

I’mnervous when I pull into Mary’s driveway. Will she approve of my suit? It was the best I could afford, although I’m sure she’s accustomed to something much finer. Sure, Mrs. Rosa and Roger said I look good, but they sort of have to.

Mary’s porch light is on, and I can see the Christmas tree in the window. My chest warms with a feeling I can’t name. Something between joy and belonging. It’s a feeling that’s grown over the past week, but tonight it’s more intense.

I take a breath and hold it as I knock. Mary opens the door seconds later, and all doubt flees from my head.

She’s gorgeous.

Her hair is lightly curled, her makeup accentuates the green in her eyes, and her lips are bright red. The sleeveless black cocktail dress she’s wearing hugs her waist and breasts, while the flowy skirt hits just above her knees. It has a deep V neckline that gives me a perfect view of her cleavage. The black four-inch heels show off her long, sexy legs.

Her eyes grow wide. “This is Molly’s dress, and I knew I shouldn’t wear it. I can change.”

“Mary,” I say breathlessly. “You’re beautiful.”

The panic begins to drain from her face. “My sisters had an intervention. They stole all my dresses and only left this and one other.”

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