Page 70 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

He tipped my chin up to gaze at him. “This winter, I fell for you all over again. Whatever version of you this is, I don’t care. I just want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he said, his voice breaking at the end of that sentence.

“Oh, Terry,” I said, flinging my arms around him before stepping back suddenly. “Can you forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he mumbled, placing both of his hands on my cheeks with a feather-light touch.

I felt my lips start to form a smile. “I guess I’ll forgiveyoufor being so stubborn.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna need that forgiveness every day, I think.”

A sarcastic response was on the tip of my tongue, but it was smothered by his mouth.

Not a light kiss, but a soul-searing one, communicating ten long years worth of missed opportunities. My lips parted as he kissed me deeply and tangled his hands in my hair. My own hands tugged off his hat and then clutched the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

I broke away with a gasp. “I could do this all day, I think.”

He started nibbling on my neck then, finding my racing pulse. “I think I could do it forever.”

I smiled briefly before his lips found mine again. His hands found my waist, but before he could pull me closer, I placed my hand felt his pounding heart and pulled my head back, just a few inches. “I can’t really take you upstairs …”

His brow wrinkled in question, and then he laughed huskily. “It’s OK. I can wait.”

“No, I mean, every room upstairs is just a pile of boxes. I just moved in two days ago, and I’ve spent all my time working on the main floor.”

“All for me?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d do all this for you?”

“Mmmm,” he said, kissing my jaw, and I forgot what we were talking about for a moment. Was this really happening? “Well, that looks like a cozy thick rug by the fire. What do you say we make this a memorable Christmas Eve?”

“Even though it’s not—”

He put his finger to my lips as he led me over to the stately old fireplace. “Shh, Mariana. It’ll be our tradition. Christmas in January.”

Epilogue

Six months later

My mouth curved into a satisfied smile as my eyes scanned the scene around me. The attention of the crowd was all focused on the man next to me on the small stage decorated in red, green, and silver garland and tinsel, and I squeezed his strong hand.

“Welcome, everyone, to the inaugural Christmas in July fest. I’m Terry Grant." One irresistable smile had the crowd cheering. "And if you don’t already know this amazing woman, this is the lady of the castle, Mariana LaBelle Northam.”

I chuckled softly to myself, remembering how I used to hate the castle thing. But it grew on me, along with everything else about Shipsvold. The town seemed to be embracing me, even though I’m not sure I deserved it. But in the past six months, I’d tried to make up for my neglect. Having Terry by my side made it easy, but I was determined to win people over on my own merits. By being myself, through and through. Not some idealized, unapproachable version. Somehow, it seemed to be working.

Terry had continued speaking, but he looked over just then and caught me staring. I smiled.

I had nothing to hide.

I adored him, and he knew it. Everyone else soon would too. We were planning to announce our new business merger, combining the resort with the Christmas village and tree farm. We were calling it Grantham Hospitality and Event Services.

But that could wait.

I cleared my throat and tugged on his red and green shirt. “Terry.” I reached into the pocket of my skirt with a secret smile and then started to clasp his hands, which were damp. Or maybe mine were? It was, after all, 85 degrees outside.

With his hands in mine, I started to lower my body to kneel on the tinsel-covered floor of the stage. But before my knee touched the floor, his eyes flashed, and he tugged me upward. “Oh my! Mariana, you can’t. No, you’re not—”

“Oh, but I am,” I said, my smile growing as I tried to kneel again, but he clasped my hands and then my elbows firmly.

“You’re going to ruin—”

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