The Christmas Letters: A Magnolia Bay Romantic Comedy

by Brenna Jacobs

  “Lily, focus. Do you think it’s Connor who wrote it?”

  “I’m legit crying, Dahlia. Be gentle with my tender pregnant emotions.”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes even as she smiled. “It really is a good letter, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely,” Lily said. “And yeah. I do think Connor wrote it.”

  Dahlia’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Really truly? I think I’m afraid I’m reading too much into it because of how much I want it to be Connor.”

  “Maybe,” Lily said. “But it all adds up too perfectly.”

  “Does it though?” Dahlia said, doubt doing its best to crowd out her conviction. “Connor doesn’t exactly seem like the Christmas Eve Gala type . . .” She paused. “Oh my word. Do you remember? We talked about the gala at dinner last week. Because it was being held at the Coral Monarch and Deacon brought it up. He said he never voluntarily went to anything that required him to wear a tux.”

  “He did say that, huh?” Lily said, the doubt in her voice matching Dahlia’s.

  “Oh, man. What do I do if it isn’t him? If there’s just some other random guy out there who thinks he’s in love with me based on nothing but my letters?”

  Lily chuckled. “Doesn’t feel near as romantic, does it?”

  “Don’t make this worse!”

  “Just calm down,” Lily said. “If it isn’t Connor, then it’s someone who doesn’t know what you look like. So you show up, look around, and if you don’t see Connor, make a run for it. The poor guy will never know you were even there and will assume, by your lack of showing up, that you weren’t interested in his declarations of love.”

  “That’s actually a really good idea.”

  “Of course it is,” Lily said. “When have I ever given you anything but good ideas?”

  “If only I’d always listened to them.”

  Lily laughed. “I’m glad you’re listening now. What are you going to wear?”

  Dahlia’s stomach dropped. “Oh geez. I have to get something to wear.”

  “Oh, come on. You have a dozen formal dresses at least back at your parent’s house. Go pick one. The shimmery red strapless one. That’s the one you should pick.”

  “Also a good idea,” Dahlia said.

  “Why do you keep sounding surprised that I’m giving you good ideas?”

  “I love you, Lil. Thanks for listening.”

  “I want to hear all how it goes, okay?” Lily said. “Every single detail.”

  “I promise.”

  A little more than forty-eight hours later, on Christmas Eve, Dahlia paced around her apartment wearing the silver dress Lily had recommended, a pair of fantastic—and surprisingly comfortable—Jimmy Choo silver heels, and the jewelry she’d worn on her wedding day. Well. Her almost wedding day. The jewelry had been a gift from her grandmother and Dahlia loved it. It had pained her that no one ever got to see it, and that for so long, it had been associated to such a painful day.

  But she was a different Dahlia now. She’d grown so much since that terrible day all those months ago. It was time to let the jewelry be a part of some new memories. Some happier ones.

  At least Dahlia hoped they were happier. She’d only been able to manage her nerves while getting ready by thinking about Lily’s back-up plan. If it wasn’t Connor, there was no rule she had to stick around. She could run away, and no one would be the wiser.

  Still, she desperately hoped it was Connor. Mostly because he hadn’t called or texted all week which meant if he wasn’t planning on meeting her on the back patio at the Coral Monarch, he was a first-class jerk and not the man she believed him to be.

  She smoothed her hands down her dress one more time and glanced again at the clock above the stove in her kitchen.

  She really ought to wait ten more minutes to leave. She didn’t want to be the first person to arrive on the terrace. But she couldn’t stand pacing around her apartment for one more minute. She’d just have to drive slow and hope for the best.

  Chapter 18

  Connor

  Connor stood on the terrace and debated whether or not he’d be able to discreetly throw up in the bushes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so nervous.

  Tugging on the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket, he allowed himself to scan the patio one more time. He still had five more minutes until seven o’clock, but he couldn’t keep himself from searching for her.

  “Hey.” Peyton stepped out of the shadows. Connor had greeted Will and Peyton when he’d first arrived half an hour earlier and told them the gist of his plan. “How are you holding up?”

  “I mostly feel like I’m going to throw up,” he said.

  Peyton laughed. “I bet. You look good. That has to count for something.”

  “Thanks. You know how much I hate wearing a tux,” Connor said.

  “I know. I’m sure Dahlia will appreciate it once she sees you.”

  Connor swallowed. “Last night I had a dream that someone else showed up. Some other woman.” Peyton wouldn’t understand the cause of his dream. She only knew he’d invited Dahlia to meet him at the gala. She didn’t know he’d done so in a letter addressed to a woman he was only mostly sure was Dahlia.

  “I’m sure everything’s going to go great,” Peyton said.

  “Want to distract me a minute?” Connor said, suddenly desperate not to be left alone. Waiting in silence with nothing to do but watch the clock was torture.

  “Sure. Um, what do you think of the hotel? The decorations look great, right?”

  Connor had been too stressed to give them much notice, but even just looking around the terrace revealed how artfully the hotel had been decorated for the gala. Christmas trees lined either side of the stairs leading down toward the beach, white twinkle lights setting them aglow. Larger lights were strung across the terrace in a criss-cross pattern, and tiny glass snowflakes dropped down from the lights, shooting tiny prisms of light all over the floor.

  “It’s beautiful,” Connor said. “It’s probably the closest thing we’ll ever get to a white Christmas around here.”

  “Hey, it snowed here once,” Peyton said.

  “Right. The keyword being once. And it wasn’t on Christmas. I’m pretty sure it was in February.”

  She sighed. “At least odds are better for white Christmases in London.”

  “How’s that going, by the way? You’re traveling more, I’m guessing.”

  “Not as much as you might think. But yeah. We’ve been a few times. Lucky for me, Will loves it here. The gents all do.” She glanced at her watch. “Two minutes till showtime.” She bumped her shoulder into his. “I’ll see you inside in a little bit, yeah?”

  Connor nodded, willing his nerves to settle. “I hope so.”

  Seven o’clock came and went and not a single person walked onto the patio. The main event was happening at the front of the hotel, and the weather wasn’t quite warm enough to justify people milling about outside, so Connor hadn’t expected a crowd. But he suddenly wished for one as the irrational thought fed by his dream pushed to the surface of his mind. If someone other than Dahlia showed up, he’d have nowhere to hide.

  He closed his eyes, willing air into his lungs where he held it for a long beat before breathing out again.

  When he opened his eyes, Dahlia stood across the patio.

  Her gaze locked on his as she slowly walked toward him, stopping just a few feet away.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  Connor smiled. “Hi.”

  She closed her eyes for a split second before she opened them again, giving her head a tiny shake. “I’m so relieved,” she said with a small laugh. “You don’t know how desperately I wanted it to be you.”

  Connor took two long strides forward and reached for Dahlia, pulling her into his arms. He pressed his lips to hers, hoping she understood exactly how much the kiss meant to him. He’d been a fool for not recognizing her value right from the start. And he was lucky she hadn’t given up on him.

  He
pulled her even closer, a surge of gratitude nearly overwhelming him. He would do anything for this woman. Anything.

  “Wait.” Connor leaned back so he could look Dahlia in the eye. “You didn’t know it was me who sent the letter?”

  She shrugged. “I suspected. And once I figured out your last name, I figured it had to be you. But I wasn’t entirely sure. I planned on sneaking away if I showed up and it was anyone but you.”

  Connor grinned. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you all week. I wanted tonight to be a surprise. And I’m sorry I was so . . . critical. I was an idiot. I’m glad you were willing to wait for me to figure things out.”

  She looked him up and down, appreciation clear in her gaze. “Oh, it was worth the wait.” She cocked her head to the side. “When did you figure out it was me?”

  “At the toy drive. Or the night before, actually. When you said you were the one answering the Santa letters. I wasn’t positive, but then you admitted to hating olives and mentioned that you were going back to school in January. It seemed like too many coincidences.”

  She nodded and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him one more time. “Do you really think you’re in love with me?” she asked, her lips still close to his.

  Connor took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Does that scare you a little bit?”

  Dahlia leaned sideways and kissed him just below his ear, taking her time as she moved slowly across his jaw. When she found his lips one more time, there was a tenderness to her kiss that nearly made his knees buckle.

  There was nothing sheltered about Dahlia, nothing closed off. She was pouring her entire heart into their kiss and Connor felt wholly and truly loved.

  After a minute more, Dahlia leaned back just slightly, her arms moving from Connor’s shoulders down to his middle where she slipped them under his coat and around his waist. “How could it scare me?” she whispered, looking up at him. “I fell in love with you on day one.”

  “Can you forgive me for taking so long to catch up?”

  “Done.” She smiled. “Merry Christmas, C.M.”

  Connor returned her smile. “Merry Christmas.”

  Epilogue

  Dahlia

  Two days after Christmas, Dahlia and Connor sat snuggled on his grandmother’s sofa. A bowl of popcorn sat untouched on the cushion beside them. Dahlia couldn’t speak for Connor, but she’d had two slices of Grandma June’s sweet potato pie after dinner. There wasn’t room for popcorn no matter how much she enjoyed it.

  “If y’all aren’t going to eat the popcorn, I’ll keep it over here with me,” Grandma June said as she extended her hand. Her eyes didn’t drift from the television screen where Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan were only minutes away from seeing each other for the first time in Sleepless in Seattle. Connor hadn’t been wrong about Grandma June’s love for romantic movies. Dahlia suspected she had a little bit of a crush on Tom Hanks based on her movie selections for their post-Christmas movie marathon. Though, the way she’d winked at them when she started You’ve Got Mail made Dahlia think she and Connor had had something to do with that choice.

  Dahlia handed Grandma June the bowl then stretched her arms over her head. “I need something to drink. Anyone else need anything?”

  Connor shook his head, reaching out to squeeze her fingers as she stood from the couch. Warmth surged up her arm at his touch, filling her chest and squeezing her heart. She hoped that didn’t go away for a long time—the way he made her feel so whole.

  While she filled her water glass at the kitchen sink, her phone buzzed from the outside pocket of her purse that sat just across the counter. Always expecting baby news, she grabbed it, her heart picking up speed when she saw she had a voicemail from Deacon.

  She pulled up the message and held the phone to her ear. “Hey, Dahlia. So, I just got some weird news from Jake. He’s the guy that works over at the courthouse. I mentioned your situation to him a few weeks back, before we actually knew for sure that C.M. and Connor were the same person. Anyway. He finally got back to me with what he found. I debated on whether or not I should even tell you, but technically it is public record, so it’s not like you couldn’t have done the research and found out for yourself. D, Connor inherited a lot of money when his parents died. I mean, it all went into a trust fund that was split evenly between him and his sister, but with interest accruing all these years? The guy’s likely got millions. Anyway. I felt weird about knowing but not telling you, so there it is. Do with it what you will. Lily says hey and not to worry about getting baby news anytime soon because she’s going to be pregnant forever. K. That’s all. Bye.”

  Dahlia lowered the phone and dropped it back into her bag, hardly knowing how to process what Deacon had told her.

  Why hadn’t Connor ever mentioned it?

  As soon as she asked the question, she realized with startling clarity how little she cared that he hadn’t.

  If she knew anything about her new boyfriend, it was that he was a man that did not want to be defined by money. It was one of the things she loved the most about him.

  He would eventually tell her, she was sure. But she wouldn’t bring it up before then. It didn’t change anything, after all. She loved Connor with or without millions.

  Connor stepped into the kitchen, a stack of dirty dessert plates in his hand. “Hey. You get lost?”

  Dahlia smiled. “Just got a message from Lily. She’s pretty sure she’s going to be pregnant forever.”

  Connor slipped his arms around Dahlia’s waist. “I’m sure she isn’t the first pregnant woman to feel that way.”

  Dahlia settled into the circle of his arms, loving the feel of his chest under her hands. “When I’m grouchy and pregnant, will you still love me and be nice to me?”

  “Planning ahead, are we?” Connor said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  Dahlia shrugged. “It’s what I want,” she said simply. “I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

  “You want to be grouchy and pregnant?” Connor teased.

  She swatted his arm and he chuckled.

  “It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you, you know,” Connor said.

  “What’s that?” Dahlia asked.

  “That you so readily speak your mind. That you’re willing to own what you want.”

  “I’m glad it’s something you’ve decided to love about me now,” Dahlia said, a teasing tone to her voice. “I’m pretty sure you were ready to run and hide when I first told you how I felt.”

  “My world just tilted,” Connor said, his words soft as he repeated the line she’d said all those weeks ago.

  “It was the truth.”

  “I know. I think I even knew it then. I was just too scared to admit it.”

  “Well, I’m not scared to admit anything. I love you, Connor McKay. I hope we get married and have a house full of children.”

  “Dahlia Ravenel, are you officially asking me to marry you right now? Because if you are, I’ve got a ring in the front pocket of my shirt. I’ll get it out right this second and slide it onto your finger so we can make it official.”

  Dahlia hadn’t been serious. But if Connor had a ring in his pocket, maybe she should be. “Are you for real right now?”

  “Grandma June gave it to me earlier. She said she could tell we were the kind of couple that was meant to last, and she wanted me to have it so whenever I was ready to propose, I could.”

  “It was her ring?”

  Connor stilled for a moment, then his grip tightened around her waist. “It was my mother’s ring,” he said, his voice low.

  Dahlia raised her hand and patted the front pocket of the flannel Connor wore. Sure enough, the outline of a ring pressed against her fingers. “Oh, wow,” she said softly. “That’s a ring.”

  “It doesn’t have to be right now,” Connor said softly. “But I would like you to have it one day.”

  Dahlia fiddled with the button that held the pocket closed. “Can I see it?”

  Con
nor chuckled. “Is that going to make a difference?”

  “No!” Dahlia said quickly. “Of course not. I’m just curious.”

  “Okay,” Connor said gently, his voice so warm and full of love, Dahlia was grateful his arms were around her and keeping her upright.

  Slowly, she unbuttoned the pocket and reached her hand in, pulling out a diamond solitaire that took her breath away. She held it with both hands, the glow from the overhead lights in Grandma June’s kitchen glinting off the stone. It wasn’t the most romantic place for a proposal, but suddenly, Dahlia didn’t care.

  “Ask me,” she whispered.

  “Marry me,” Connor said without a beat of hesitation.

  Dahlia met his eyes and smiled. “Okay.”

  He shook his head, one hand leaving her waist long enough for him to run it through his hair. “Did that really just happen?” he asked.

  Dahlia bit her lip and nodded. “Can I put it on?”

  Connor laughed and took the ring, lifting her left hand before sliding the ring onto her ring finger. As fate would have it, it was a perfect fit.

  “You did say this was something you loved about me,” Dahlia said cheekily.

  Connor grinned and leaned down to kiss her, his hands cradling her face. “That and everything else.”

  *******

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Connor and Dahlia’s love story! Don’t forget to leave a review.

  Reviews are essential to the success of any novel, so thank you!

  Interested in reading Lily and Deacon’s story?

  Check out Wedding Belles: A Novel in Four Parts by four of my favorite authors.

  It was so fun to collaborate with them on these characters!

  Wedding Belles