by Jaci Burton
“Because I’m not afraid, Alice. I know we’re a match. We belong together.”
She let the tears fall as she crawled onto his lap. She wound her arms around him. “I love you, Clay. I love that you’re willing to literally move heaven and earth to make our lives work. No one has ever loved me like that. No one has ever been willing to turn their life upside down for me. And if you can do that, so can I. Of course I want to be with you. I’ve been so lonely without you, as if a part of me was missing as soon as I left Oklahoma. I even missed the snow and the cold.”
He grinned. “You did?”
“Yes. When it’s cold, you’ll light a fire for me, and you and I and Homer will cuddle up together in front of the fire. How could I not love that?”
He spread his hands over her hips. “The house that I was comfortable in by myself? It’s not comfortable anymore. It’s empty and lonely. I need you in it with me.”
She laid her forehead against his. “I’ll sell the condo. I’ll get an office here, and I can do most of my work online, with occasional face-to-face meetings here.”
He leaned back. “You sure? I don’t want you to have to make sacrifices to be with me.”
He would say that. “It’s not a sacrifice. It’s what I want. It’s what I need. I need you. I need to be with you. God, I’ve never needed anything more. And the fact you’ve arranged it so that I can have my work and the life I crave, with the man I love? It’s everything to me.”
She fought back the tears as love welled up inside of her. “My home is with you. I want to spend Christmas with you. Take me home, Clay.”
“Hell yes.”
He pulled her close and kissed her with all the heat, passion and love that she knew she’d always have with him.
It was going to be the best Christmas ever.
Epilogue
It was Christmas Eve, and Alice was right where she wanted to be. In Clay’s living room—no, it was their living room, as he kept reminding her. She’d have to get used to that. This was their house. She was living in their house now.
And what a house it was.
The idea of this being her place was going to take a while to sink in. But she could easily get used to it. Instead of a cramped condo, she was living in a castle. She definitely felt like a princess, curled up in front of a fire crackling in a spectacular fireplace.
The Christmas tree sparkled with lights, and Homer sat at her feet, his tail thumping as he chewed on his stuffed bunny. She’d never felt so happy, so content. This feeling of being right where she was supposed to be was a first for her.
Clay was in the kitchen whipping up dinner, which he refused to let her help with, while she tied up a few work-related loose ends on her laptop. Then she’d be free to relax until after the New Year.
Work finished, she closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table, then sipped her wine, a delicious pinot noir courtesy of Red Moss Vineyards, and stared at the man she loved who’d moved mountains to give her what she wanted. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. When she’d texted Lainie to fill her in on what happened, Lainie had sent her a return text filled with heart-eyed emojis and a copious amount of exclamation points proclaiming her happiness. They’d talk more after Lainie got back from her honeymoon, but Alice’d been so bursting with joy she had to share it.
She’d also texted Erin Bellini, who’d sent a Whoop Yay Omg I’m So Happy return text. And then made Alice promise they’d get together after Christmas so Alice could give her all the details about what had happened. Alice had smiled at that, and agreed. She already had a new friend in Oklahoma.
She thought about what this transition would mean to her, both professionally and personally. She pretty much stayed to herself in LA. She had Lainie, of course, but Lainie traveled a lot for work, so they only got together occasionally. And business-wise, she could make it work by scheduling her meetings with clients during a several-day period when she’d be in her office in LA. The one thing Alice prided herself on was her organizational skills. That part of the transition wouldn’t be a problem.
When she’d first arrived in Oklahoma, she’d thought of it as . . . small. Not the kind of place she’d ever want to live. But now? The wide-open spaces, the friendliness of the people and the love she’d found here had made Oklahoma feel like home.
Plus, she had a dog now. Total bonus.
Clay came over and set down a tray filled with delicious looking treats, and the smells emanating from the kitchen were driving her crazy.
She leaned over to inspect the goodies. “You made all this?” There were crostini with almond, bacon and cheese; some fresh fruit slices; and crackers, Brie and jam.
“Just for starters,” he said. “There’s also a roast in the oven.”
She was astounded. “Where did you learn to do all this?”
He shrugged. “I have Internet, you know. And cookbooks. I’m kind of an amazing guy.”
She laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
“Hey, I thought maybe I’d take a vacation after the holidays. If you have some time, maybe we could take a trip. You could show me those oceans you always talk about.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Spring gets busy around here, but I’ve got the time now.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Have you ever known me to do anything I don’t want to do?”
Her lips curved. “No.”
“Then let’s go see an ocean together. You made me realize that all I do is work.” He swept his knuckles across her cheek. “Now that I have you, it’s time to play.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I’d love to play with you.”
“Good. Then I’ll make it work, and we’ll see some of the world together.”
He would, too. He could do anything. She was still unable to believe this unbelievable man was hers. She tipped his chin and brushed her lips across his. “Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”
“Yes. I love you, too. Oh, and one more thing.” He raised his arm above her head.
She looked up to find a sprig of mistletoe in his hand.
Her heart did a little leap at the utter romance of it. “Where did you get that?”
“At the Christmas tree lot.”
He drew her into his arms and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that made her feel warm and loved. When he pulled back, she licked her lips. He tasted of wine and Christmas and everything she wanted . . . forever.
“Perfect touch,” she said.
He slanted a devilish smile at her, and she wanted to hold this moment in time forever. Her hot cowboy, kissing her under the mistletoe.
Her mission was complete. She’d found Clay Henry the perfect match.
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Erin Bellini shouted out from her office at Red Moss Vineyards.
“Mom. Have you talked to the caterers?”
Her mother didn’t respond right away. It was her most annoying quality. While she waited, Erin jotted down several notes about the bridesmaids. Her two sisters were on site so she had them covered, but she made a note in her planner to text Chrissy, her best friend and maid of honor, to make sure she had received the itinerary Erin had emailed to her.
Erin’s mother, Maureen, made an appearance in Erin’s office. “You don’t need to yell at me, Erin. You could have just sent me a text. And yes, caterers are confirmed. Which I already told you this morning.”
“Right. You did. For some reason I hadn’t checked it off the list.” She typed an X in the spreadsheet on her laptop as well as marking it off on the page in her planner. She looked up at her mother. “And my d
ress is back from alterations, right?”
“It’s in your closet.” Her mom made that face, the one where her lips went straight and her eyes narrowed and you knew you were being scrutinized. “You’re not getting nervous, are you?”
Erin smiled and took a deep breath to center herself. “I never get nervous. Because I have everything planned. In my planner. In my spreadsheet. In the notes in my phone.”
Her mother smiled. “Right. Yes, well, that’s you, honey. I’m going out to the vineyards to check on your dad. Call if you need me.”
“Okay.”
She should call Owen, her fiancé, to make sure he remembered he had to pick up the tuxes. Or maybe she should call Jason, Owen’s best friend and the best man. Owen was always scattered and busy and he’d likely forget. Thankfully he had her to organize everything for him.
She picked up her phone and found Jason, then pressed the call button.
“Busy here, Erin.”
She shook her head at Jason’s gruff brush-off. Since they were neighbors, they’d known each other forever. “I need you to pick up the tuxes.”
“What?”
“The tuxes, Jason.”
“I’m knee-deep in cow shit right now, Erin. You don’t mean now, do you?”
“No. I mean Thursday.” She heard mooing. “You delivering babies?”
“Pregnancy checks.”
“Oh. Cool.” Jason was a large animal vet, so he was always on the run. He had a practice in town, but he also worked the local ranches.
She was scrolling through her emails when she saw one from Owen. Owen never emailed her. He always texted. She frowned and clicked on it.
“I thought Owen was doing the tux thing,” Jason said.
“Well, Owen is likely up to his elbows in hops or wheat or whatever it is that brewers do. Or he’s likely making sure the brewery and the restaurant won’t go up in flames without him when we’re on our honeymoon. You know how he is.”
“Fine. I’ll handle it. Anything else?”
“Yeah.” She was trying to concentrate on Owen’s email and forgot she was on the phone with Jason.
“Erin. Anything else?”
Her blood went cold. Everything in her went cold, despite the warm May day.
She read the email again. It was a breakup email. Two days before the wedding, and Owen was breaking up with her.
“In a freaking email? He’s breaking up with me in an email?”
“Who’s breaking up with you?” Jason asked. “Owen is?”
She was getting married in two days. Correction. Apparently she was not getting married, because exactly two days before their wedding Owen had broken up with her. Via email.
She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. She leaned over and put her head between her legs.
“Erin. Are you there?”
“Did you know about this?” she asked, trying not to faint or throw up.
“Hell no, I didn’t know. Did he call you?”
Erin straightened, the dizziness making her feel as if she’d just downed a bottle of Bellini’s best prosecco in one gulp.
Two days. They were getting married in two days. This had to be a mistake. But as she straightened and looked at the email again, the word “mistake” was written in the same sentence as the words, “us getting married.”
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” she screamed, long and loud, then yelled, “That sonofabitch. I will kill him. He broke up with me in an email, Jason.”
“He didn’t,” Jason said. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, he did. And I’m sure. I can read a damn email. I gotta go.” She hung up the phone and stared at her lists, tears pricking her eyes as the future she’d envisioned with Owen dissolved right in front of her.
All because of an email. An email! How could he be so cold?
“I will kill him. I. Will. Kill. Him.”
She was breathing too fast and she knew it. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t calm down. She pushed herself out of her chair and forced herself to pace the floor of her office, centering her breathing, forcing the tears back, resisting the urge to crumple on the floor and curl up in a ball and sob like a baby.
How could he do this to her? To them? They’d been perfect together.
Oh, no. She would not cry. Not over him.
“Who are you going to kill?” Honor asked, running in. “You screamed. What’s wrong?”
Torn between betrayal, hurt, and utter fury, she couldn’t even answer her younger sister. She finally managed to find her voice and pointed at her laptop.
“Owen dumped me. In an email!”
Honor gasped. “He did not.” She yelled out the door, “Brenna, get in here now.”
Brenna sauntered in. “What’s up?”
“Owen dumped Erin. In an email, apparently.”
Erin reread the email again, making sure it said what she thought it had said. Maybe she’d misinterpreted it.
But no. She hadn’t. There was no misinterpreting the “I’m sorry” and the “We’re not right for each other” and “We shouldn’t get married.” She felt her sisters’ hands on her shoulders as they leaned over her to read it.
“That sonofabitch,” Brenna said.
“I can’t believe he’d do that,” Honor said. “That doesn’t seem like Owen at all. Did he say anything to you to lead you to believe he wanted to back out?”
Erin finally swiveled around in the office chair to face her sisters. “No, he didn’t say anything to me because apparently he was too busy packing for Aruba. For our honeymoon. Where he is right now. Taking our honeymoon trip by himself.”
Brenna crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze. Erin felt a little vindicated by the fury in her older sister’s eyes. “I will personally destroy him.”
“You won’t get the chance,” Erin said. “Because I get the pleasure of doing that.”
“Dad might kill him first,” Honor said, looking worried. “Or, knowing Mom’s temper, you might have to hide the kitchen knives.”
Erin stood and started to storm out of the office, but then turned. “Nobody gets to kill him but me.”
Their mother walked in right then, a smile on her beautiful face.
“Who are we killing now?”
Their Mom was used to the three sisters always plotting someone’s demise. Oh, but she didn’t know how bad this was. This was bad. This was murder worthy.
“Owen dumped me, Mom. And he’s already left for Aruba without me.”
Their mother just stared at her, dumbfounded for a few minutes. “What? He did what?”
She took her mother’s hand and led her to the desk, showing her the email Owen had left her. She read it. Then read it again and lifted her head to stare in confusion at Erin.
“This makes no sense, Erin. He loves you.”
Erin snorted. “Apparently not. He said he tried to talk to me but I wouldn’t listen. I don’t even know what he’s talking about, because he most certainly never talked to me about ending our engagement. And the rest of it is all blah blah blah whatever where he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.” She pointed to her laptop, to the life-altering email. “Like that wouldn’t hurt my feelings? He couldn’t even face me, the coward.”
“Are you sure he didn’t try to talk to you about this?” Honor asked.
“Honor!” Erin said. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, of course. I just . . . it’s just that we all know Owen. He’d never hurt you like this.”
Erin waved her hands at her laptop. “He just did.”
Honor sighed and shook her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, of course you’re right. He’s a terrible person. A coward for not facing you.”
“Bastard coward,” Brenna added. “So now what do we do? Everything’s ordered for the wedding. Flowers, cake, cater
er, music. Nothing can be canceled at this late date except the venue here at the vineyard, of course. He couldn’t have gotten his cold feet six months ago?”
At Erin’s stricken look, Brenna added, “Or, never? I mean, who wouldn’t want to marry you? You’re beautiful and talented and smart and any guy would be lucky to have you.”
“Damn right he would,” her mother added.
Erin didn’t understand it. As her mother and sisters talked amongst themselves, she turned to face the window, looking out over the vineyards, rows and rows of grapes growing, promising a prosperous future.
She sighed and reviewed the past year in her head. Owen had proposed in his apartment. She hadn’t been too surprised because they’d talked about marriage for a year. They’d planned the wedding. Everything had seemed fine. It had been stressful, of course, but all weddings were stressful.
And sure, she’d been preoccupied with her work here at Red Moss Vineyards, plus all the wedding planning, but Owen had been equally engaged with his work. They were both successful in their jobs. Owen had started up a craft brewery and restaurant in Oklahoma City. Erin handled the business aspect of the family winery. Sure, they were super busy. But they made time for each other.
They’d known each other since they were kids. They’d been in love, dammit. She rubbed her stomach, aching inside at the loss of the future they’d planned together.
She couldn’t pinpoint one time where warning bells had clanged in her head, where she might have stopped and thought that maybe he was having second thoughts.
And now she had a wedding in two days and no groom. And no refunds at this late date, either.
Fury replaced the hurt, pure anger wrapping an icy wall around her shattered heart.
Well, screw that. And screw him, too. Only she wouldn’t be screwing him on her wedding night. Or ever again, for that matter. Which was fine with her.
But she’d have her revenge. And a party to remember.
She pivoted to face her mother and sisters, lifting her chin in defiance. “We’re going to have the reception without him.”
Her mother shot her head up and stared at Erin. “What?”
