His Christmas had not turned out quite the way he’d planned, but if there were a Christmas miracle to be had, it would be that Vicki’s steadiness would be there to see him through for many more days to come.
“I love you,” he said.
With a smile tilting up the corners of her lips, she cupped his jaw and smoothed her thumb back and forth across his cheek. “I will never get tired of hearing you say that.”
“Good, because I plan to say it a lot.” He stroked her lips with his fingertips. “You mean so much to me, Vicki. You’re like a piece of me that I didn’t know was missing.”
“Thank you for opening your heart enough to let me inside,” she whispered.
Jordan dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss.
“Prezzie!” Mason screamed, thumping an unwrapped cardboard box on the floor.
“Uh-oh.” Vicki laughed as she pushed up from Jordan’s lap. “Time to feed the beast. You may have to go to the store to get more wrapping paper. We’re going to run out soon.”
“Check under the tree, toward the back,” Jordan said. “I think there may be a gift still there.”
“Are you sure?” Vicki said, walking over to the tree and gently moving a couple of ornament-laden branches around.
Jordan’s breath began to escalate as he nervously waited for her to find the box.
“You’re right,” she said, pulling out the flat rectangular box. She brought it over to Mason and stooped down in front of him. “Looks as if we forgot one of your presents from Santa.”
Mason grabbed the box from her hand and quickly started to tear the paper. Jordan’s pulse pounded harder with every rip.
“Let me help you with that,” Vicki said once all the paper was gone. She lifted the top off the box and pulled out the toddler-size T-shirt. “There you go,” she said, handing the shirt to Mason.
“Why don’t you read it for him?” Jordan said.
She looked at him with a curious gleam in her eye, then took the shirt and held it out in front of her.
She gasped.
“Jordan,” she said. “Is this for real?”
She turned the shirt to him. It read, Will You Marry Us?
Jordan rose from the sofa and walked over to them. He dropped on the floor next to them and took the shirt from her, pulling it over Mason’s white undershirt. He turned the baby to face her.
“I figured you wouldn’t be able to say no to this face,” Jordan said.
Vicki covered her mouth with both hands. Tears began to stream from her eyes. She reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“There is nothing I want more than to marry you.” She looked down at Mason. “The both of you. Becoming a part of this family, making you two my family, is the greatest gift I could ever hope for.”
*
Exuberant chatter floated around the ballroom where the Woolcotts’ Kwanzaa gathering was being held, as guests celebrated the start of the weeklong observance set aside to honor the values of African culture. In keeping with the traditions of the holiday, they feasted on the mazao, or crops, of fresh fruit, nuts and an array of harvest vegetables, along with a bounty of fragrant African dishes.
The entire room was awash in red, green and black, with the giant cornucopia Vicki had brought in serving as the focal point. Guests presented gifts to the cornucopia, which would be given out on Imani, the seventh and last day of the celebration.
Vicki felt Jordan’s eyes on her as she listened to John Bancroft, a longtime associate of Ahlfors Financial Management, talk about the recent trip he and his wife had taken to Jamaica.
“It sounds heavenly,” Vicki said, smiling at the man, who felt it necessary to describe every single detail about the all-inclusive resort where he and his wife had vacationed.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jordan standing several yards away, his intense gaze searing and seductive.
“I would love to hear more about the fake volcano at the hotel’s pool, but I see one of the centerpieces has a flower out of place. As the decorator, I just can’t have that.”
“Of course, of course,” the man said.
Vicki quickly made her exit and headed straight to Jordan.
“Having fun?” he asked as he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
Vicki lifted her face to receive his kiss. Keeping her voice low, she whispered, “If you want to go to Jamaica for our honeymoon, I know where you can slide down a fake volcano and into a pool made to look like lava.”
“The only thing I plan to slide down on our honeymoon is you,” he said against her lips.
The shivers that cascaded along her body had no business being there in the midst of a ballroom filled with all their family and friends.
“You’re trying to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Me? Of course not,” he said, the wicked gleam in his eyes belying his words. His expression sobered, and Vicki didn’t have to think too long to figure out why.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Darren Howerton just walked in.”
Upon learning of Oliver Windom’s cheating on the evening of the holiday extravaganza, Vicki and Jordan had gone over to the Howertons to break the news to Darren Sr., only to learn that the man had gone down to Boston to spend the holidays. Tonight was the first time they’d seen him since discovering the truth about the election results.
Jordan let out a deep breath. “I don’t want to wait another minute to apologize,” he said.
Vicki took his hand and squeezed it.
“It takes a man with integrity to admit when he’s wrong,” she said. “And you have as much integrity as anyone I know.”
Jordan’s eyes filled with gratitude. He crushed his lips to hers in a swift, sweet kiss. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” she said against his lips.
Hand in hand, they started for Darren Sr., who was speaking to Jordan’s father, Stuart Woolcott. Vicki saw the moment when Darren Jr. spotted them heading for his father. He started walking toward them, as well. They all arrived to the two older gentlemen at the same time.
Jordan cleared his throat to get their attention. Darren Sr. and Stuart both turned.
“I hope you don’t mind my interrupting, but I owe this man an apology,” Jordan said. He looked directly into Darren Sr.’s eyes. “By now, I know you’ve heard the results of the investigation I started. I didn’t want to apologize over the phone, because it’s something you deserve to hear face-to-face. I am truly sorry for the accusations I made against you and your campaign, Darren. I put my trust and support in the wrong candidate. All I can do is ask that you forgive me.”
The older gentlemen stood there for a moment without speaking. Finally, he said, “I want to know why, Jordan. Why did you back Oliver’s campaign?”
“I was intrigued by several of his ideas,” he began. “But mostly, I agreed with Oliver’s support for Mass Mentors, a mentorship program that was started by a former classmate of mine.”
As Jordan explained the program to Darren Sr., Vicki stepped in to mention that it was kids from Mass Mentors who’d helped to create her float.
“This sounds like something that should be statewide,” Darren Sr. said.
“I think so, too,” Jordan agreed. “Oliver pledged to fight for funding for the program. It’s desperately needed.”
“Supporting our state’s underserved youth has always been a priority for me,” Darren Sr. said. “You should have come to me with this idea, Jordan. I would have supported it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t,” he said. “But I’m here to help now. If you’ll allow it, I want to work with you on this.”
“I would love to have your input,” Darren said, clamping Jordan on the shoulder with one hand and offering the other to shake. As the two shook hands, the tension of the past month seemed to melt away.
“I’m proud of you, son,” Stuart said, shaking Jordan’s hand, as well.
&n
bsp; Stuart and Darren Sr. both left to join the others at the head table, leaving Jordan, Vicki and Darren Jr. together. Jordan turned to his former schoolmate and Darren Jr., too, held out his hand.
“I appreciate you doing that,” Darren Jr. said.
“When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong,” Jordan replied. “And I was wrong to accuse your father of cheating. I regret that I put my trust in someone as untrustworthy as Oliver Windom. If I’d known the kind of person he was, I would have left his campaign and come to work on Darren’s.”
“We would have welcomed you,” Darren Jr. said with a grin. “It was miraculous to see how quickly you turned Windom’s campaign around. It was because of you that he nearly pulled off a win.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if you would ever consider leaving law, but if you ask me, you’ve got a career as a political strategist waiting for you.”
Jordan chuckled and stuck his hand out again. “I appreciate you saying so.”
After a vow to get together over dinner soon to talk about the Mass Mentors program, Vicki and Jordan headed for their table toward the front of the ballroom.
Stuart Woolcott was at the microphone, welcoming everyone to the Woolcotts’ annual Kwanzaa gathering. He took a few moments to explain the cultural holiday and the meaning behind the seven principles of Kwanzaa.
“It is befitting that we are all here today with family and friends as we celebrate Umoja, this first day of Kwanzaa. Umoja means unity. May we all continue to be united throughout the years to come.” He held up his glass and toasted everyone in the room.
Jordan clinked his glass against hers, a secretive smile on his face. Then, tugging her by the hand, he started toward his father.
“Jordan,” Vicki said in a loud whisper, but he continued walking.
He stepped up to the microphone his father had just vacated.
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Jordan spoke into the microphone. “Seeing as we are here celebrating unity tonight, this is probably the most appropriate place for me to do this.”
Setting his champagne glass on the table next to them, Jordan got down on one knee.
A collective gasp rent the air.
He pulled a ring box out of the pocket of his tailored tux and looked up at her.
“I asked you last night, but here I am, formally asking in front of all our family and friends. I want to unite my life with yours. I want you to become my wife. Will you marry me, Vicki?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Yes,” Vicki answered. “Yes, I will marry you.”
An excited roar sounded around the room.
“I knew it!” Sandra shouted. She ran over to them and gathered Vicki in her arms. “I knew this was going to happen the minute I saw the way Jordan looked at you at my wedding.” She kissed both Vicki and Jordan on the cheek. “I am so happy for the both of you, and for Mason, too. He is getting the perfect stepmother.”
Vicki’s heart swelled. “Thank you,” she said.
She turned and accepted hugs from Janelle and then from her parents. Her brothers all teased Jordan good-naturedly before showering Vicki with congratulatory kisses.
When she turned back to Sandra and Janelle, they both wore conspiratorial smiles.
“What?” Vicki asked, unable to squelch her suspicions.
“Give us one minute,” Sandra said. “We have a surprise for you.”
A few minutes later, she and Janelle returned to the ballroom carrying a flat garment box. They set it on the table before her.
Eyeing them cautiously, Vicki opened the box and gasped.
“What? How?”
It was her mother’s wedding gown.
“You mentioned at the Quarterdeck a few months ago that you would love to get married in your mother’s gown,” Sandra said. “Last week, when I saw the way your eyes lit up just at the mention of Jordan’s name, and the way his did the same whenever someone said your name, I knew a proposal couldn’t be far off.”
She took Vicki by the shoulders and brought her in for a hug. Janelle joined them.
“And to think I used to complain about not having sisters,” Vicki said.
“So did I.” Sandra laughed.
“Me, too,” Janelle added.
“I think God knew what He was doing when He brought us all together,” Vicki said. “You two will forever be my sisters.”
Epilogue
“By the power vested in me by the State of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Woolcott. Sir, you may kiss your lovely bride.”
Vicki turned to Jordan and couldn’t hold back her wide smile as he leaned in and kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her.
He kissed her for so long that her father loudly cleared his throat, causing the wedding guests to erupt in laughter.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Woolcott,” Jordan said, his grin as wide as hers.
“Congratulations to you, too,” she returned.
She kissed him again before they started down the small aisle in the tastefully decorated chapel. They led everyone to the chapel’s small gathering hall next door. On the outside it looked like a rustic seaside cottage, but the inside had been made to look like a winter wonderland, with white gossamer draping from the ceilings and sparkling white lights casting an ethereal glow on every surface.
The gathering was small, with only the members of the Woolcott, Ahlfors and Howerton families, along with a few close friends, in attendance. It was exactly what Vicki had envisioned her wedding day to be like, and exactly the man she’d always dreamed she’d marry.
“I have never been happier in my entire life,” she said.
“I take that as a challenge,” Jordan said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I plan to spend the rest of my life making you happier than you were the past day.”
“I look forward to it,” she said.
Sandra and Janelle, who had both stood as attendants, came over to them. Sandra carried Mason, who was dressed in an adorable baby tuxedo.
“Isn’t he the most cutest baby in the world?” Vicki asked.
“He is,” Janelle said. “But I think mine will give him a run for his money.”
Sandra and Vicki both looked at her and started screaming, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. Sandra handed Mason off to Jordan so that she, Vicki and Janelle could join in a group hug.
Jordan laughed at their shenanigans. “I think the Silk Sisters will have to add a baby portion to the business.”
“I think that’s the perfect idea,” Vicki said.
At Janelle’s announcement, the mood became even more festive. As the food and drinks flowed, Vicki soaked it all in. At this moment, her life felt complete.
Yet it was just getting started.
“It’s time to throw the bouquet,” Nancy Woolcott called, handing Vicki the small bouquet of white calla lilies that had been made specifically for tossing.
Vicki turned her back to the crowd, but not before taking a mental note of where her three brothers stood. Angling her aim, she tossed the bouquet over her shoulder, right at Terrance, Spence and Jacob, making sure there would be more weddings to come in Wintersage.
*
ISBN: 978-1-472-07204-7
A MISTLETOE AFFAIR
© 2014 Farrah Rochon
Published in Great Britain 2014
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited
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A Mistletoe Affair (Mills & Boon Kimani) (Wintersage Weddings - Book 3) Page 18
