The Christmas Bride
Copyright © 2016 by Marquita Valentine
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover Design by Okay Creations.
Edited by Cynthia Shepp Editing
www.marquitavalentine.com
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Table of Contents
Copyright Page
The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs, #4)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Royal Scandal
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More Books By Marquita Valentine
About the Author
The Christmas Bride
Navy SEAL Logan Ambrose has come home for the holidays, ready and willing to propose to his longtime girlfriend and leave the military. Only, the homecoming he expected is suddenly derailed when he discovers her in bed with his best friend. So what’s a guy to do but head home, get drunk... and wake up in Vegas, married to a woman he doesn’t recognize.
Willow Vaughn has been in love with Logan forever, but when he left town, she gave up hope of ever making him hers. So when fate strikes and the two run into each other in Vegas, Willow jumps at the chance to be with him. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect to wind up married to the hot military man.
This should be easy to explain to their families... Only... the two of them are not sure what to say or do—stay married or pretend the whole thing never happened?
Prologue
As a Navy SEAL, Logan Ambrose willingly put himself in dangerous situations. Willingly put his life on the line to help his brothers and to save his country. Two years in and he already had the scars that marked each mission—the only testament to an otherwise secret life.
But nothing about his SEAL training had prepared him for senior prom. He was seriously too old to be here, but he hadn’t been able to break his baby sister’s heart by saying no. That jerkoff of a boyfriend had already done that by breaking up with her the previous week.
What a guy... But, in Logan’s estimation, the jerk had done Eva a huge favor. Unfortunately, Eva hadn’t seen it that way and cried over her dumbass of an ex for three days straight.
Logan pulled at the collar of his tux and moved his neck from side to side.
A popular song came over the speakers, and the entire gymnasium was filled with screams and shouts of joy. There was a huge rush to the dance floor, and he stepped back, edging closer to the wall at his back.
“Come dance!” Eva shouted.
Shaking his head, he held up his hands and backed away even further. “Later.”
Eva pouted, but, scant seconds later, she was pulled to the floor by her friends. Judging by the smile on her face, she’d already forgotten about his refusal to dance. Hopefully, by the end of the night, she would forget about her ex as well.
A linebacker of a guy began to dance with her.
“Don’t get too close, buddy,” he muttered under his breath.
Frowning, he kept one eye on Eva’s dance partner and the other on the room, scanning for signs of... danger. It was habit now. It also seemed ridiculous in a gym full of teenagers.
“You don’t like to dance?”
Turning, Logan found a woman standing next to him. She was dressed for prom in a silver dress, her dark hair swept up in one of those fancy updos like every other girl in here. Her face was tilted up, giving him a view of big, blue eyes.
Pretty blue eyes.
Innocent blue eyes—the eyes of a girl on the edge of becoming a woman. A stunning woman at that.
Yeah... maybe he should move to a different spot. But he didn’t want to be rude.
“I like to dance, just not to this... song,” he replied. “Why aren’t you dancing?” As soon as the question left his mouth, he wanted to punch himself. She wasn’t dancing because she didn’t have a date. He’d seen her earlier, taking a solo picture at the entrance, but he’d forgotten about her.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he added, trying to save her feelings.
Her eyes crinkled. “It’s okay. I’m used to being alone.”
“Lucky girl,” he joked. As a twin, he’d never been alone, not even in the womb. As one of six siblings, there was always someone to do something with. And as a SEAL, he always had his brothers at his back during missions.
Honestly, he wouldn’t trade his life for anything.
“I think so.”
“You like being by yourself?”
She canted her head from side to side, a playful grin on her mouth. “Is it bad that I want to say yes?”
“Takes all kinds,” he replied, then scanned the room again. “Whoever decorated the gym has real talent. All we had for my prom were a few hundred balloons and a table of finger food. That’s it.”
“Thank you.”
His brows lifted. “You’re the talent behind this?”
“Yup!” She gestured to the ceiling, where what seemed like thousands of balloons and packets of something sparkly were held back with a thin, silvery netting. “I added confetti. As well as the photo booth—you know the kind you can get in at the mall and take goofy pictures?” He nodded. “I think those are going to be huge at parties in the future,” she continued. “People really like it when they can personalize an event.”
“Still have my shot glass from prom.” Weird way to memorize a night that’s supposed to be alcohol free.
“Those stopped two years ago. Instead, everyone takes home photos and a garter, even the guys,” she said. Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know where I’d wear one.”
“The thigh,” he suggested.
She laughed. “I know that. But who gives seventeen and eighteen-year-olds garters?”
Apparently, she hadn’t ordered those. “Someone else in charge of swag?”
“Totally. Head cheerleader.”
“My sister.” He glanced at the crowd, easily finding Eva in the center of it all, dancing and singing her heart out. It was her personality, and he loved her for it. “You guys bump heads a lot?”
“No. Eva is very easy to work with and easy to talk to, just like her big brother.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice talking to you, Logan.”
He took her hand. It was dainty, just like her.
Inclining his head, he replied. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Guess I’ll get back to my... over there.” She gave him a beatific smile and began to walk away.
His heart lurched in his chest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she accepted that she wasn’t like all the other dancing girls. Maybe because it was—son of a bitch—she had taken a spot along the wall, a wistful
expression covering her face.
Logan couldn’t allow her to stand there the entire night. Then again, would a barely legal woman want him to ask her to dance? Would he be breaking a law if he did?
Her gaze dipped down to the floor, and she brushed her fingers under her eye. She was... crying?
That set him in motion. No way in hell would he stand here and do nothing.
It wasn’t his nature.
***
Willow Vaughn guessed it was fitting to celebrate her eighteenth birthday on the same night as prom. Even though she was without a date, she wouldn’t be by herself—like usual. Sure, it was somewhat by intentional design on her part, but the other... she was just one of those girls who never quite fit it.
Until she spotted him—Logan Ambrose. Evangeline’s big brother.
He had a twin, but that guy never smiled and didn’t have a dimple in his right cheek. She hadn’t known she was a sucker for dimples until the first time she saw Logan smile at Evangeline’s sixteenth birthday party. Willow had stared at him for almost the entire party. Luckily, no one noticed, or almost no one noticed. Their mom, Leah Ambrose, had, but she was too nice to embarrass Willow.
So Willow had looked her fill until it was time to sing to the birthday girl, but she hadn’t said word to him. She hadn’t said a word to anyone beyond a polite thank you for the invitation and I had a nice time.
However, she was now two years older and wiser. She was eighteen and bold. So bold that she had not only commandeered the event committee in order to plan senior prom, but she had also spoken to Logan.
As she slowly walked back to her spot, she replayed their conversation in her head. With a dreamy smile, she looked up at the ceiling, the silver netting catching the light. This was the best night of her life. The best birthday ever, too.
A speck of something hit her eyes, and she began to blink like crazy. “Dang contacts, “ she muttered, rubbing at her eyes. Just as she got whatever it was irritating her eyes out, a pair of dark shoes filled her vision.
“Do you want to dance?” Logan’s low, seductive voice filled her senses. Again.
Willow lifted her head, letting her gaze travel up and up until she could fix her gaze on the most handsome man in existence.
“Shit. Don’t cry.” He touched her face, right at her temple. “No girl should cry at prom.”
Thoroughly bemused, she said, “I’m not crying.”
“Brave girl.” He took her hand. “Tempo’s changed. Let’s dance.”
The tempo had changed, and she was so completely discombobulated that she followed him out onto the dance floor. He placed her arms around his neck and put his hands on his hips, but kept them appropriately spaced apart, she noticed. Though they weren’t dancing cheek to cheek, it felt like they were the only two people there.
His shoulders were so broad, and his arms bulged with muscles under his tux. She felt safe, secure... and desirable in his arms.
A first to be sure.
Dimple flashing, he smiled down at her and she got lost in his eyes. They were the exact color of the whiskey her dad liked to drink after a hard day’s work. And the way he smelled... She wanted to nibble on him.
But she knew she couldn’t. Not only was their age difference a problem, but he was only being nice to her. She might be a silly girl with a crush, but she wasn’t stupid.
She wished she could say that they danced until the end of the night, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Logan stayed with her throughout the entire song. Before she could thank him, his sister came running over.
“Willow, you look beautiful,” she said, then turned her attention to Logan. “You promised to dance with me. I refuse to let you get out of it a minute longer.”
Logan raised a dark brow. “I don’t know.”
“It’s only my birthday,” Eva said with an exaggerated huff.
“You can’t refuse her on her birthday,” Willow said.
Eva gestured to Willow. “See, we birthday girls have to stick together.”
Willow’s mouth almost dropped open in shock. Eva remembered they shared a birthday?
Logan’s gaze bounced to hers, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t say it was your birthday.”
She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Birthdays are a huge deal,” Eva said, tugging on her brother’s arm. “Let’s go. The DJ promised to play my favorite song next.”
“Okay, okay. Give me five seconds,” Logan said with grin, but he didn’t take his eyes off Willow. “Happy birthday.”
She felt her cheeks grow hot. “Thank you. Dancing with you made it...” She glanced away, lowering her voice, “Magical.” Then she walked away before she could embarrass herself further.
***
Later that night as she arrived home, Willow parked in her usual spot beneath the live oak tree that grew beside the house. She practically danced to the door. The porch light came on as soon as her foot touched the bottom step. Door creaking, it swung open and a dark figure blocked the entry.
“Have a good time?” her dad asked.
“The best time,” she said, walking inside.
Their home was small and cozy, but the three of them didn’t need a lot of room. “How’s Grandma?”
“Sleeping.” Her dad closed the door and locked it behind him. “Where did your date take you for dinner?”
“Oh... Jack’s Fine Italian. He said to apologize to you for not being able to pick me up.” Unable to disappoint her dad, she hadn’t told him the truth about being dateless. But she had gone to eat at Jack’s—if only to make less of a liar out of herself.
“In my day, a man picked up a woman.” He shook his head. “You’re worth picking up, Willow.”
“I know.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, which was rough with stubble. “Next time, I’ll make sure he picks me up.”
“Where’s your crown?”
Her eyes widened, and her stomach dropped. “Crown?” she almost croaked.
Her dad laughed. “Don’t you tease me, Willow Blue. Your momma was prom queen and her momma before her. It’s only fitting that—”
“I declined the title. Gave it to Evangeline Ambrose instead.” She toed off her heels, unwilling to look her dad in the face. “Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, it’s her birthday, and her brother, Logan, is about to leave on another mission.”
“That so?”
Peeking up at him, she nodded. Please don’t let him see through me.
“You’re a sweet girl, Willow.”
His compliment warmed her heart, but it also made the lies she’d been telling him for years suddenly weigh down on her shoulders until she could barely stand. He’d always thought she was like her mother—pretty, popular, and in high demand for social occasions.
In reality, she was more like him—a bookworm with big dreams and a good work ethic... and unwilling to break her daddy’s heart.
Unfortunately, after her mother had left him to head out West to become a movie star, he’d seemed to shrink inside himself and depend on Willow to be the gregarious one. The life of the party.
He assumed she had tons of friends, yet chose to carefully guard her study time so she could get a scholarship to East Carolina University.
But her mother was a Holland—what else could he have expected? The only difference between her mother and the generation of women who lived in the huge mansion on Strawberry Grove was that Aster Holland was actually liked by people.
Except Willow didn’t like Aster very much.
The occasional postcard she sent from Los Angeles did nothing to endear her either. Aster had betrayed William by leaving him, and that, in Willow’s opinion, was the worst thing one person could do to another.
Never mind what it had done to her as a child.
“Tonight was wonderful,” she said, picking up her shoes. “It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. I danced until my feet hurt.”
He patted her arm
. “Just like your momma.”
She attempted to smile at the compliment, but her mouth refused to cooperate. “It’s late. Do you mind if I head to bed now? I’ll get up with Grandma tomorrow morning, so you can sleep in a bit.”
“She’d like that.”
If she remembers who I am, Willow thought. She hated the dementia that had taken hold of her grandma’s brain. That had robbed her of the one woman who had shown Willow how to be a lady, how to set a proper table, and how to plan the best parties.
Even if no one ever came.
Humming, Willow headed to her bedroom, turned on the overhead light, and shut the door. With a smile on her face, she flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Glittery stars dotted the landscape, reminding her of the magical dance with Logan.
Eyes closing, she pretended she was in his arms again, and that he was professing his undying love to her. He wanted to see her again. Had to see her again.
A giggle bubbled up, then a sigh.
Nothing would ever come of it, of course. It couldn’t. There were seven years between them. Soon, there would be thousands of miles between them, too.
“Happy birthday to me,” she whispered.
Make a wish, baby. I’ll make sure it comes true. Her mother’s voice seemed whisper the words in her mind.
Willow opened her eyes. “I wish I could get a second chance with Logan Ambrose.”
Chapter One
Three years later
Willow hefted the large vase of flowers and headed to the front door. She had no time to spare, so chatting with Pacey was out of the question. When she bumped the door with her hip, it opened quicker than she thought it would. She went tumbling straight for the ground.
She screamed, but held on tight to the vase while attempting to fall sideways. There was no way she could mess up her first job by destroying the centerpiece for the bride and groom’s table.
Right before her body connected with the sidewalk, she was lifted into the air and set on her feet. The sunflowers swayed precariously in the vase but stayed put.
Heart beating like crazy, Willow took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said, trying to peek over the top of the arrangement so she could see her rescuer.
The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4) Page 1
