An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three)

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An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) Page 4

by Schurig, Rachel


  In the years that I had known her, she’d flitted from relationship to relationship, never managing to find a guy who could keep up with her. I caught Paul looking at her, as she looked out over the lake, the expression on his face clearly belying the fact that he was crazy about her. It was sweet, really. I suddenly felt like I might just understand how they had ended up together after all.

  “Okay,” Brooke said, her voice turning more business like. “Let’s get you guys settled upstairs, then we can grab dinner.”

  We walked back to the entryway to find that our bags had already been brought upstairs. As we ascended the huge staircase, Chris grabbed my hand. “Was it a good surprise?”

  “A great surprise,” I said, smiling at him. “One question: why did I need my swimsuit for a weekend out in the woods? I’m pretty sure that lake is frozen.”

  Chris laughed. “There’s a hot tub.”

  “Not bad, mister.”

  “We’ll have fun,” he assured me. “And I might even have one more surprise up my sleeve.”

  I was distracted by his teasing promise when Brooke opened the door to our room. “Here you go,” she said, handing a key to Chris. “Best room in the house.”

  I couldn’t help but sigh with happiness as we stepped inside. The room, unsurprisingly, was beautiful. A huge, four-poster bed was in the center of the room, a fireplace crackling happily in front of it. A bay window looked out over the lake below, and a loveseat and coffee table created a cozy sitting area near the fireplace. The walls were papered in light green tulle, which contrasted nicely with the cream of the bed quilt and the loveseat. It was romantic without being over the top, exactly what I would have expected from Brooke.

  “You like it?” she asked, smiling.

  “Love it,” I corrected, walking over to feel the softness of the bedspread.

  “Well, wait until you see the bathroom,” she said. Chris walked over and opened the door, revealing a spacious room complete with marble tile and a claw-foot tub.

  “You’re right,” I said. “This is even better.”

  “All right, let me get Em and Elliot into their room. We’ll all meet downstairs for dinner in fifteen minutes?”

  “Sounds good,” Chris said, stepping forward to hug her. “Thanks for this, Brooke.”

  Their eyes met, some unknown communication passing between the two of them. Before I could wonder too much about it, Brooke was pulling the door shut behind her, and Chris was moving toward me.

  “Do you really like it?” he asked, his face expectant.

  Impulsively, I threw my arms around his neck. “I really, really do,” I said, before kissing him. He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, moving me back toward the bed.

  “Shouldn’t we unpack?” I asked breathlessly.

  Chris smiled against my mouth. “Plenty of time for that later,” he said, kissing me again.

  I giggled, feeling a rush of happiness and contentment. “But we’ll be late for dinner,” I protested, as he pushed me onto the mattress.

  “Ashley,” he said, leaning over me and grinning down at me, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “I really don’t give a damn.”

  I laughed before his lips met mine again, deciding he was right. As he kissed me, I felt my head spinning, my heart pounding faster and faster. I couldn’t bring myself to worry about anything, not when Chris was kissing me. Not when he had obviously gone to a great amount of trouble planning this weekend for me. He loved me as much as I loved him, and nothing else really mattered.

  Chris and I were ten minutes late for dinner that night. We didn’t feel bad at all.

  Chapter Five

  Valentine’s Day dawned cold and bright. The sun shone through our bay window, casting its bright light on Chris’s back as he slept soundly next to me. I couldn’t help but stare at him, though I knew it bugged him when he woke up and caught my eyes on him. He was so good looking, so handsome and sweet. When I was younger, I had assumed I’d end up with someone dark and dangerous looking, my romantic ideal. I found it amusing that I had instead fallen for Chris, with his curly brown hair and puppy dog eyes. Some people might pass him over as looking too common or brainy, but, to me, he was the cutest guy in the world.

  “You’re staring at me again,” he mumbled, burying his head in a pillow.

  I giggled and snuggled down next to him, kissing his shoulder. “Can’t help it,” I said. “You’re so darn cute.”

  He snorted and turned toward me, tucking a brown curl behind my ear. “I wonder if our kids will have curly hair,” he murmured, making my stomach flip. Our kids!

  “You’re the scientist,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and not reveal the tremor of excitement that was coursing through me. “What are the odds when both parents have curls?”

  “Biology was never my strong suit,” he said, kissing my nose. “But I think the chances are pretty good.”

  He stretched, yawning. “What would you say to breakfast in bed?” I asked. “I think I need some coffee before I head downstairs.”

  “Already taken care of,” he said, smiling. “I ordered it last night. We just need to call the kitchen and let them know we’re up.”

  I stared at him. “Okay, who are you and what did you do to my not-so-romantic boyfriend?”

  Chris laughed. “This weekend is for you,” he said. “Why don’t you jump in the bath, and I’ll let you know when the food is here?”

  I kissed his shoulder one more time before jumping out of bed, the thought of the claw-foot tub the only thing more appealing than staying bed. The tub did not disappoint. The bathroom was well stocked with toiletries from Bliss, one of my favorite brands. I found a rose-scented bath oil and was soon relaxing under the hot water when Chris knocked a few minutes later.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing me a champagne flute of what appeared to be orange juice.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “Yummy,” I said, closing my eyes. Mimosas.

  “I was going to tell you that your food is out there,” Chris said, looking down at me. “But on second thought, maybe we should both stay in that bath all day.”

  I laughed. “We’d get pretty gross and pruney if we stayed in the bath all day.”

  “Gross is the last word I would use to describe you right now,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows at me. I felt a warm flush on my cheeks. Just then, Chris’s stomach growled. I snorted.

  “Go get started,” I said. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Ten minutes later, clad in the fluffiest white bathrobe I had ever seen, I joined Chris at the small breakfast table. “What’d ya get?”

  “The works,” he said, pulling a silver cover off my plate to reveal pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit.

  “My favorite.” I slid into a seat and dug in. As he ate, Chris ran a finger absentmindedly along my forearm. He seemed distracted, worried almost, his teasing mood from the bathroom apparently gone.

  “What’s up?” I finally asked, after several quiet moments. He looked up at me, his face clearing.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking about what we’re gonna do today.”

  “What are we gonna do today?” I asked.

  “Brooke said something about snowmobiles.”

  “Awesome,” I said, feeling excited. Chris had taken me snowmobiling a few times when we had gone up to visit his parents at their farm in Alpena.

  “We can ice skate, too, if you want,” he said, pointing down toward the lake. Now that the sun was out I could see a large square of ice that had been cleared of snow. “Or there are trails for snowshoeing or cross-country skinning. Oh, and Brooke said there’s a hill back behind the woods there that’s good for sledding.”

  “Wow,” I said, grinning. “That sounds like a busy day.”

  Chris shrugged. “I figure we’ll just do whatever we feel like.”

  I reached out and took his hand, kissing his knuckles before looking at him. “I want to do it all.”

  * *
*

  We ran out of hours in the day—not to mention energy—long before we managed to do everything on our list. We did manage to go snowmobiling and avail ourselves of the ice skates Brooke provided for our use. By four p.m., we were exhausted and I had a feeling I’d never get all the way dry again. Elliot had challenged us to a snowball fight after we’d finished skating, and I was still pulling icicles out of my hair when Chris and I finally made our way upstairs to get ready for dinner.

  “Do we really have to leave tomorrow?” I asked, wandering over to the bay window to look out at the snow-covered grounds.

  “I’m afraid so.” Chris came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my stomach. “But we can stay late. Brooke is waiving the eleven a.m. checkout.”

  I chuckled softly. “It’s nice to know the lady in charge, huh?”

  Chris kissed my neck, just under my ear. “And we have all of tonight. Speaking of which, we should probably get ready.”

  “What’s for dinner?” I asked. We had enjoyed a delicious meal the night before down in the dining room. Lunch had been more casual; Brooke and Paul joined the four of us for sandwiches by the fireplace in the living room.

  “You’ll see,” Chris said, squeezing my stomach a bit before releasing me. “Your hair’s all wet. Did you wanna shower or were you gonna take another bath?”

  I turned around, smiling. “When have you ever known me to pass up a bath?”

  I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the taps, pouring in the same bath oil I’d used that morning. As I moved to take off my sweater, I stopped in surprise at the sight of Chris leaning in the doorway. “Do you need to use the bathroom first?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I never said you got the bath all to yourself.”

  I felt a familiar tingle in my spine at the look he gave me, but decided not to give in too easily. I batted my eyelashes, playing innocent. “Whatever do you mean?”

  In response, Chris pulled off his hoodie, revealing his white undershirt, and, for a moment, a tantalizing strip of brown skin. “I mean, Ashley, that I’ve been wanting to join you in that tub ever since this morning. Clear enough?”

  I slapped a hand over my mouth and tried out my best southern belle accent. “I’m scandalized!”

  He snorted then lunged for me, pulling me toward him as I laughed and batted at his chest. “You’re going in, missy, even if I have to dump you into the water with all your clothes on.”

  I managed to pull away long enough to pull off my own sweater. Standing there in my T-shirt and jeans, I raised an eyebrow at him challenging, “Last one in pays for dinner tonight.”

  Chris’s eyes danced behind his glasses as he appraised me, my fingers paused on the hem of my shirt. “Is that a bet?”

  “Sure is.”

  Something in his eyes changed, making my stomach clench a little bit in anticipation. “You’re on.”

  * * *

  I dressed for dinner in the clothes Emily and I had picked out. I had started to straighten my brown curls but Chris stopped me. “Leave ’em,” he said. “I like you curly.”

  Happy to oblige, I let my hair air dry while I put on makeup, feeling the happy rush of anticipation I normally got when I had the chance to dress up. I would never understand why Emily didn’t like this.

  “You look great,” Chris said, coming to stand behind me in front of the full-length mirror. “Seriously great.”

  “Thanks.” I met his eyes in the mirror. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Davidson.”

  I thought I detected a look of fear cross his face, but it was gone before I could be sure. He really did look nice tonight, forgoing his usual cargo pants and hoodie for a nice pair of dark jeans, a crisp button-down white shirt, and a cobalt V-neck sweater that seemed to make his eyes all the more blue.

  “Well, I’m ready if you are,” I said, fluffing out my hair one more time before turning away from the mirror.

  “Actually, you should get your coat,” he said, that nervous look back on his face. I raised my eyebrows at him. “And your hat and gloves.”

  “Why do I need a coat and gloves to go down to the dining room?”

  He smiled sheepishly at me. “We’re not eating in the dining room. I told you I had another surprise or two up my sleeve.” His smile grew wider. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  I shook my head at him in amazement, wondering where this romantic hero had come from. I went in search of my still-damp Northface coat, slightly bummed out that I’d be covering up my cute outfit. When I pulled open the closet, I gasped slightly. In place of my old winter coat hung a gorgeous white down trench coat. “What is this?” I asked, reaching out a hand to touch the soft fur at the neck.

  “It’s a present,” Chris said. I spun to face him, catching the expectant look on his features. “Do you like it?”

  “Like it?” I asked, turning again to the closet. It was the most gorgeous coat I’d ever seen. “I love it.”

  “Good,” he said, sounding relieved. “Ryan said it would be perfect.”

  “Ryan picked this out?”

  “He helped.” I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the two of them clothes shopping together. Chris must have just loved that. My heart clenched as I pictured them, the two boys I loved most in the world.

  “Well, put it on,” he said. “The gloves and stuff are in the pockets.”

  Instead, I turned to hug him. “Thank you,” I whispered into his shoulder. “What a great Valentine’s Day present.”

  He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest to my ear. “Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Five minutes later, we were making our way downstairs, Chris’s hand at the small of my back. I couldn’t help but run my hand gently against my own face, the feel of the red cashmere gloves against my skin soft and warm. The matching hat and scarf were equally gorgeous. I’d always been a fan of winter accessories, but I was confident I had never looked so nice in winter garb before in my life.

  I was slightly surprised to see Paul standing at the foot of the stairs, alone, but figured Brooke must be overseeing the dining room. “Everything’s ready,” he said to Chris, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially.

  “Great.” I couldn’t help but hear the nerves in Chris’s voice. What did he have planned? Paul opened the front door for us, giving me a huge grin as we passed through. As we stepped out into the snowy night, I gasped.

  Steps away from the porch stood an honest-to-God horse-drawn sleigh.

  I turned to stare at Chris to find he was grinning at me hugely. “You said you wanted romance, babe. Well here you go.”

  “This is for me?”

  “Of course.” He took my hand and led me down the steps to the sleigh. He turned to help me up but stopped at the sight of my face. “What?”

  “I…I can’t believe you did this!” There was a lump in my throat, and I was pretty sure I was about to start crying. But Chris only laughed.

  “Brooke arranged everything, I just came up with the idea. Come on, we have a ways to go.”

  Still hardly able to believe what was happening, I allowed him to boost me up into the sleigh. He climbed in next to me, pulling a fleece blanket from the floor to arrange over our laps, then took the reins.

  “Wait a second,” I said, grabbing his arm. “You’re driving?”

  “You don’t sound very confident in my abilities.”

  “Sorry,” I said, laughing. “I just had no idea your abilities included driving horse-drawn sleighs.”

  “I did spend a good amount of time around horses for most of my life, you know.”

  He had a point. Chris’s family owned a farm in northern Michigan. He had learned to ride a horse before he learned to ride a bike. “You’re right,” I said, nestling into his arm. “Take it away.”

  With a flick of the reins, the horse took off at an easy trot, pulling us along in its wake. We couldn’t have been going very fast, but with the snow flying around us and the col
d air whipping at my face, it felt fast. Before we’d gone more than a few feet, I was laughing and squealing, feeling like a little kid. I looked up at Chris’s face to see that he was smiling hugely, clearly enjoying himself as much as I was.

  When we reached the trees, Chris slowed the horse. “The trail isn’t all that big,” he told me. “We need to take our time.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, snuggling closer. I couldn’t have asked for a better ride, snuggled up against my guy, warm under the fleece, the moon and stars the only light to guide our way. I hadn’t stopped enjoying the ride before it ended. But what I saw when we stopped was enough to dispel any disappointment in getting out of the sleigh.

  We were in a clearing deep in the woods. A path and small square of ground had been shoveled, within which stood a table and two chairs. A metal fire pit stood beside the table, the fire already burning brightly. The clearing was further lit by tiki torches, spaced at even intervals.

  I found myself laughing uncontrollably. “What?” Chris said, sounding slightly hurt. “Don’t you like it?”

  “I love it!” I cried, throwing my arms around him again. “I can’t believe it! How did you do all this?”

  “I told you, Brooke. She really knows what she’s doing with this whole customer satisfaction thing.”

  We climbed down from the sleigh, Chris wrapping the reins around a nearby tree, then picked our way across the shoveled path to the table. A bottle of white wine was chilling a foot away in the snow. Two covered plates sat atop warming stones, keeping our meal warm despite the frigid air around us. As we settled into our chairs, Chris lifted the lids, revealing chicken Kiev, my all-time favorite meal. “Dig in,” he said, grinning at me.

  I had a hard time eating though; I couldn’t seem to keep the grin off my face for long enough to do more than eat a bite or two at a time. I felt like laughing again, not because it was funny, but just because I was so completely happy. For Chris to go to so much trouble for me completely blew me away.

  He had told me on numerous occasions that he thought Valentine’s Day was stupid, that people shouldn’t need a day to remember that they loved each other. The whole gooey romance thing was so not his scene; he made fun of my romance novels, rolled his eyes at love songs, and flat out left the room when I watched chick flicks. But he had forgone all of that tonight, just because he knew it would make me happy.

 

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