Or maybe it proved that Angie was someone they approved of because she was finally the right woman for him?
Either way, the experience had been much more positive than Angie’s. Her reconciliation had been similarly predictable, so less pleasant. Her sister Sophia was...prickly. It was the best word he could think of to describe her. She had Angie’s dry humour, though it came with an edge Angie didn’t have. Angie claimed it was a sign of fierce loyalty; Sophia hadn’t been thrilled by Angie leaving. Ezra could have sworn it was more that she wasn’t thrilled Angie had come back.
Angie’s youngest sister was charming. Exuberant and bubbly—and according to Angie, hiding something. And none of this even touched on Angie’s mother, who seemed genuinely lovely, if a little...reserved. Which, of course, frustrated Angie beyond belief as she somehow identified it as a failed attempt at independence.
He didn’t understand most of it, but somehow they dealt with it. Angie navigated her family as best she could, which had involved putting up boundaries to protect herself. It had taken some convincing from his part, and had led to more than one argument, but they’d figured it out. They were solid, after all. Enough so that eight months after they’d met, he’d wanted to propose.
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It had taken him eight months because he’d been worried about moving too fast. About pushing her when she was still struggling with what she’d discovered about herself. But he’d known from the day they’d met he wanted to spend his life with her. It had just taken them both some time to come to terms with it.
Mostly her.
It hadn’t been a long period of time, those eight months, but it had been enough to tell him all he needed to know about his feelings for Angie. Though it still hadn’t made her saying ‘no’ when he asked any more amusing.
‘It was a joke!’ she said immediately after.
‘It wasn’t funny.’
‘Maybe not right now, but—’ she cut off. ‘I’m so sorry. It was in terrible taste. But I thought you’d know—’ She gave him an apologetic look. ‘Will you ask me again? Please?’
‘Are you going to take it seriously this time?’
‘I took it seriously the first time.’
‘Yeah, ri—’
‘Just ask me again.’
And he had.
After they kissed, when she pulled back, she said, ‘This still doesn’t mean I need to be around you.’
‘I know.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘You just want to be.’
‘Yes.’ She leaned her forehead against his. ‘And I’m not going to stop writing my book.’
‘I’m already thinking about the holiday house we’ll buy because of its success.’
Her lips curved. ‘We’ll stay here—because this is where I want to start our family—but we’ll need to travel. To get away every now and then since I’m sure I’ll need a break from the intensity of my family stuff.’
He leaned back. ‘Are you sure? We haven’t talked about it for a long time—’ and the fact that he hadn’t been worried about it told him solid was sexier than it sounded ‘—but you don’t have to do this for me.’
‘I’m not. I need to be here. This is...this is home.’
He lowered his head to touch his lips to hers. ‘It will be.’
Because they’d had no desire to wait, a short month later they’d got married. First, because they’d had to be creative to secure the venue on such short notice, they’d celebrated early one Tuesday morning at the Durbanville quarry. The short aisle had been covered in white petals. The tree under which they’d had the ceremony hadn’t been oak and its leaves hadn’t been orange since it was spring, not autumn. It had been draped in white chiffon though.
They’d said their vows, kissed—and had then done it all over again immediately after at a nearby church for the sake of their parents.
For the rest of his life, Ezra would never understand what he’d done to deserve the woman he’d met a year before. He would never know what he’d done to have her sit at his table that day. Or why she’d taken a chance on him.
He was willing to believe it was Christmas magic. Which was why he wanted to make their first Christmas as a married couple special.
‘Are you done?’ he asked when she sprinkled chopped coriander over the salad.
‘With this, yeah. I still have to finish up the cake. It’s been in the fridge overnight, so I have to take it out and decorate it. And then,’ she said, looking down at herself, ‘I should probably have a shower before our families arrive in an hour.’
‘Right,’ he replied. ‘We have time then.’
She squinted at him. ‘Did that sound like we have time?’
He didn’t answer, only took her hand and led her into their living room. They were renting a place for a year, and it was cosy with its warm, cream walls, beige couches and bright yellow pillows, along with assorted pops of colour on shelves that stood on two of the four walls.
‘Before you say anything,’ he said, when he lowered to the couch, bringing her down with him, ‘this is going to be quick. I need to give you your Christmas present.’
She frowned. ‘I thought we did that last night?’
He snorted. ‘You thought I got you a foldable Bluetooth keyboard for Christmas?’
‘Um, yeah? It’s a damn good gift.’
He knew it had been, though the small smile on her face made him feel a million times better about it. He hoped she’d feel the same way about this.
‘Well, I have another one for you.’
He took a breath to calm the sudden nerves, and reached for the present under the Christmas tree. The area was still peppered with gifts for their family; it had been the perfect place to hide it. He handed it to her.
With a questioning look, she began to open it. Her hands stilled halfway, immediately after she’d seen the front of it.
‘You—’ she stopped on a shaky exhale. Then she looked him dead in the eye. ‘I thought you said you didn’t have time to read it.’
‘This doesn’t mean I’ve read it.’
‘No?’ she asked, and her voice caught at the end, making the word sound like a sob. She took a loud breath. ‘So you’re saying you just bind manuscripts into books without reading them?’
He took the book from her and gently undid the rest of the wrapping. He gave it back.
‘I was going to say “I did with you,” but I don’t want to lie.’ He didn’t smile when he saw the nerves on her face, though he wanted to. ‘It’s good, Ange. It’s raw and sexy and romantic. Though I did think the hero was a bit of a geek at times—’
‘Must have been the PhD,’ she retorted, though it was more absent than dry, and she blinked rapidly, before looking up. When she looked at him again, there was still a sheen to her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you did this.’
‘Does that mean you like it?’
‘Do I like this book you had made from the manuscript I gave you three weeks ago?’ She held the book up accusingly; he didn’t think she realised how menacing it looked. ‘I love it. I’m literally holding a book I wrote in my hands.’
‘Your second attempt at a full-length romance novel. A pretty good one at that.’ He took her hand. ‘I think you’ve lived up to that promise your dad said you had.’
She didn’t even bother blinking back the tears now. ‘Low blow, Doctor,’ she said, using her free hand to wipe her face. ‘I told you that in confidence.’
‘And I’m telling you this pretty confidently, too. This is a good book.’
She gave him a look. ‘You have to say that.’
‘But I wouldn’t,’ he said, ‘if I didn’t think so. It needs work, sure—’ he laughed when she swatted the book at him ‘—but it’s got good bones.’ He paused. ‘I had this done because I believe that. I believe in you. This dream is going to come true,
baby. I can feel it.’
She pursed her lips together, and didn’t say anything for a long time.
‘I love you. I never thought I’d say that to a man and not be afraid, but here I am. I love you,’ she repeated, ‘and I’ve never felt safer.’
He brought her hand to his lips. ‘I’ll take it as a compliment.’
‘Please do,’ she said, with a slight laugh. And then something changed. She sat up straighter, her hand tightening in his, her face sobering, and his heart began to race.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ She immediately cleared her throat, which made him doubt her answer. ‘So, this dream... It’s about to become a little more complicated.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know how I’ve been a little...moodier than usual today?’
‘We’re seeing your family,’ he replied, as if it explained all.
‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But also... Three pregnancy sticks are trying to convince me that I’m pregnant.’
He kept looking at her, as if he hadn’t just heard what she’d said. He blinked, as if somehow, that would help him with the information he’d heard, but wasn’t processing.
‘Excuse me?’ he said after a long pause. ‘Can you just—Did I just—’ He blew out a breath. ‘Did you just say that you were pregnant?’
‘I said the three sticks I peed on this morning are trying to convince me I’m pregnant.’ She got up. Paced. ‘I mean, I’m not convinced. How accurate are those things anyway? Besides, we’ve been careful.’ She threw a hand up, though he had no idea why. ‘No, I’m not pregnant,’ she decided. ‘It’s probably just the tea I’ve been drinking. I had three cups this morning alone. It must have had—’
She broke off when he stood, her eyes growing wider when he stopped in front of her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘All the sticks were positive?’
She blew out a breath. ‘All of them. And they were different brands, too, so it’s not like one might be faulty.’
She was moaning. If he wasn’t still struggling with this new information, he would have smiled.
‘So... We’re pregnant?’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she corrected him. ‘None of this “we” stuff since you’re not the one carrying the baby and oh my word I am carrying a baby.’ She blinked up at him. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘You’re having a baby,’ he teased, when a giddiness he had no idea could come from him took hold of his tongue.
‘We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant, but we’re having a baby.’
Her eyes softened, and giddiness turned into a love so damn fierce he had no idea what to do with it. Good thing he’d married the woman who inspired it.
‘We’re having a baby, Ez,’ she whispered, and gave him a smile so bright he thought he’d seen the sun.
‘We’re having a baby,’ he confirmed, and smiled back.
* * *
Author’s Note
Although Caledon, South Africa, is a real place, the lodge and café where Angie and Ezra meet is fictional.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to those at Harlequin who have supported me and my writing from the beginning. My Mills & Boon family, for putting in a good word for me, and the team at Carina Press, who’ve been wonderful about A Wedding One Christmas and me. A special thank-you has to go to John Jacobson, my Carina Press editor. Your belief in me has meant more than you can know, and I’ve already learnt so much from your expertise and intuition.
To my writing friends, who provided moral support with this book. Jenni Fletcher, you’re my rock; Olivia Dade, I will always be grateful for your kindness, especially when it came to A Wedding One Christmas. To Collette Kelly and Dorothy Ewels, you know how thankful I am to you both for everything. For Dani René and Lucy Parker, who patiently answered all my questions, and Rae Rivers, who was willing to bounce ideas around when I needed it.
To my sister, Lunelle, who listens to all my publishing woes even though she knows little about the industry and still tries to help. And to my husband, who will never know how much his unwavering belief in me has contributed to my dream coming true—and staying true.
I appreciate you all dearly.
To find out about other books by Therese Beharrie or to be alerted to new releases and other updates, sign up for her newsletter at theresebeharrie.com/newsletter.
Also available from Therese Beharrie and Harlequin,
Her Festive Flirtation
The bridesmaid, the best man...
A Christmas wedding they’ll never forget!
A year after being jilted, Ava Keller finds herself forced back up the aisle—as bridesmaid at a beautiful Cape Town wedding. Best man—and Ava’s first crush—Noah Giles is the perfect distraction from her painful memories. But their flirtation turns serious when Ava’s feelings for him resurface! Hurt when Noah left after their kiss years before, will Ava give their chemistry a second chance?
To purchase and read this and other books by Therese Beharrie, please visit Therese’s website at theresebeharrie.com/my-books.
Can an unlikely romance return the magic of Christmas to an entire town?
Read on for a sneak peek of Christmas Catch by Mary Shotwell.
Available now from Carina Press.
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Christmas Catch
by Mary Shotwell
Chapter One
Monday, December 7
“I’d like to thank all my guests this evening, especially Dr. Ambrosia. It’s always a pleasure to hear how the simple things we do in a day, like keep a gratitude journal, can invoke a positive response in our mental and physical health.”
Charlee Ridgeway closed the fluffy gray sweater jacket tight around her chest. Her recording studio was permanently cold, despite Atlanta’s stuffiness.
“And remember, there are only a few days left to get in your submissions to the Cheery Christmas Contest. All contest rules are up on my website, cheerycharlee.com. Many of you doubt I can top last year’s hurricane-stricken Gulf Coast home rebuild, but just you wait! This is Cheery Charlee. As always, new podcasts are posted on Tuesday nights. Until next Tuesday, stay cheery.”
Charlee pulled off the headphones, the metal bracket on the right speaker holding her curls hostage.
Her audio editor, Vanessa Herivaux, walked into the recording room wearing a ribbed tank top and A-line skirt. Her dark silken skin and tall stature made Charlee feel even paler and shorter. “Another great one.”
“A little help,” Charlee said.
Vanessa untangled Charlee’s hair off the headphones. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing these huge things.”
“Earbuds hurt after a while. Besides.” She stood up from the swivel chair. “It drowns out all your tapping on the window.”
Vanessa leaned against the recording booth’s desk. “If you would stay on target with time, I wouldn’t have to tap.” Her Haitian Creole accent thickened whenever she grew angry, even after living most of her life in Georgia.
A Wedding One Christmas Page 23
