Page 65 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
Wynn kissed her. His arms tightened around her, as if he found it hard to believe she was actually there in his embrace.
“That’s the way to handle it,” Max said from somewhere behind them.
Wynn and K.O. ignored him.
“He’s been a real pain these last few days,” Max went on. “But this should improve matters.”
Wynn broke off the kiss and held her gaze. “We’ll probably never agree on everything.”
“Probably.”
“I can be just as stubborn as you.”
“That’s questionable,” she said with a laugh.
His lips found hers again, as if he couldn’t bear not to kiss her. Each kiss required a bit more time and became a bit more involved.
“I don’t believe in long courtships,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.
“I don’t, either,” she said. “And I’m going to want children.”
He hesitated.
“We don’t need all the answers right this minute, do we, Dr. Jeffries?”
“About Santa—”
She interrupted him, cutting off any argument by kissing him. What resistance there was didn’t last.
“I was about to suggest we could bring Santa out from beneath that sleigh,” he whispered, his eyes briefly fluttering open.
“Really?” This was more than she’d dared hope.
“Really.”
She’d been more than willing to forgo Santa as long as she had Wynn. But SantaandWynn was better yet.
“No hamsters, though,” he said firmly.
“Named Freddy,” she added.
Wynn chuckled. “Or anything else.”
The doorbell chimed and Max hurried to answer it, ushering LaVonne inside. The instant she saw Wynn and K.O. in each other’s arms, she clapped with delight. “Didn’t I tell you everything would work out?” she asked Max.
“You did, indeed.”
LaVonne nodded sagely. “I think I may have psychic powers, after all. I saw it all plain as day in the leaves of my poinsettia,” she proclaimed. “Just before Max called, two of them fell to the ground—together.”
Despite herself, K.O. laughed. Until a few minutes ago, her love life had virtually disappeared. Now there was hope, real hope for her and Wynn to learn from each other and as LaVonne’s prophecy—real or imagined—implied, grow together instead of apart.
“Champagne, anyone?” Max asked, bringing out a bottle.
Wynn still held K.O. and she wasn’t objecting. “I need to hire you,” he whispered close to her ear.
“Hire me?”
“I’m kind of late with my Christmas letter this year and I wondered if I could convince you to write one for me.”
