The Mistletoe Wedding Read online

  “Besides,” Karson cuts in. “My mom misses you. She always liked you better than me. I can’t count the number of times she’s asked about you while really implying that I’m a dumbass for letting you go and not going after you.”

  “My parents ask about you too,” I admit. “With the same tone.”

  “Well then? We going to give this a shot? Because I already know we work physically.” He winks at me and my whole body goes red hot like I’ve just been thrust into the middle of twenty-foot flames. “I think we’d work in other ways too.”

  “You might drive me so crazy that I’ll be one of those sad people who commit murder with a frying pan.”

  “I might. And you might drive me crazy enough that I’d plan a vacation in hopes that you’d get conked on the head by a falling coconut.”

  “I might go swim in shark infested waters with you just to teach you a lesson.”

  “And I might love you anyway.”

  My breath hitches and my heart pounds wildly. Karsyn’s fingers twist through mine and he does that crazy thing where he guides my hand to his chest and places it above the ugly sweater, right where his heart is. I can feel it beating wildly, pounding like crazy under my fingertips.

  I take his other hand, even though mine is shaking and wet and clammy, and set his on my heart. “I might love you too,” I whisper-breathe with just about the last breath I have left in my lungs.

  It’s a good thing we’re both done with words and I don’t need breath anyway, because Karsyn bends his head and kisses me the same way he’s kissed me the past few days. Scalding. Bruising. So intense that it makes my knees weak. Like the whole world isn’t looking on. Like we have everything and nothing at stake.

  He doesn’t stop, even when my family pours onto the porch and starts letting out cheers and fake groans of disgust. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let me go. I don’t let him go either.

  I think we’re done with that. Letting go. Maybe we’ll make it after all.

  Merry Christmas to us.

  Epilogue

  Karsyn

  It’s been a year.

  One whole year.

  It’s Christmas. Almost. Two days and it will be. We still haven’t killed each other. Yet. I’m sure there’s time. I’m also sure it will never happen. No frying pans, no coconuts, no sharks. The truth is, no matter how much we might drive each other crazy or get pissed off or step all over each other’s feelings, we love each other more.

  “Karsyn! Come over here and sit on this stupid suitcase. I can’t get it closed!”

  I even love Breona enough to do this for her.

  I cross the room, leaving my own suitcase half packed. We moved in to her apartment three months after I made my declaration of undying love on her parent’s front lawn. I let them keep the blow ups with a promise that they’ll display them proudly every single year. Even though they hate decorations and muss and fuss, I’m pretty sure they actually will.

  “We’re only going for a week. Are you sure you need to pack the entire closet? It’s warm there. What do you need sweaters for? Ten pairs of shoes? Really? I thought you were a light packer.”

  Breona rolls her eyes at me and grins. “You know that half this crap is Christmas presents. You’re the one who said gift cards are tacky. I only have two pairs of shoes and one light sweater. So just zip it and sit on it.”

  “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”

  She rolls her eyes, but I watch them darken right after she does. We’ve been at this for a year and the fire still hasn’t sizzled out. We still do kinky things. Not as kinky as banging her in a janitor’s closet at our best friend’s wedding, but hey, we’ve come close. I’d elaborate, but gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, though I’m sure Breona would say that I’m no gentleman.

  “Can you please just help me get this closed?”

  “It’s going to be overweight. We’re going to have to pay the fee. Maybe we should have just bought a bigger suitcase with the astronomical charges we’re going to incur at the airport.”

  “How would a bigger suitcase help? It would still be overweight. Probably more, because we’d end up stuffing it to the brim just because we had the room.”

  “You’re right. Okay, next year, gift cards it is.”

  She gives me a pointed look. “Next year, we’re driving. Then we won’t have to worry about crap being overweight.”

  “Next year, we’ll have a house and everyone we know will be coming to see it so we won’t have to go anywhere. We’ll host Christmas. Bring our families together. Maybe I’ll even extend the olive branch and invite my dad, seeing as he’s been making an effort to stay sober.”

  Breona’s mouth drops open. “You…are you serious? I thought you didn’t want a house. I thought you said being a homeowner was just a waste of time and a nuisance and an inconvenience.”

  “Yeah. But you also said you want kids one day and I’m not raising them in an apartment with nowhere for them to run and play. I’m guessing you also want a dog and a cat and a white picket fence.”

  She grins so wide that I swear her face probably feels like it’s going to crack. She’s always beautiful, but when she smiles…damn. I think she could strike anyone breathless, but she does a real number on me. Always has. Always will.

  “Maybe I do. You know…I’ve been thinking that maybe we should look in San Diego. I like it here, but I know you miss it. I know you miss being close to your family. I miss mine. All our friends…”

  I freeze, my hand on her bulging suitcase. I hate to break it to her, but that thing is never going to zip closed. Maybe I can air mail the packages so they beat us there. Maybe we won’t have to worry about this next year, like I said.

  “Do you mean it? Don’t say it because you think it’s what I want.”

  “I’m not.” Bree’s eyes burn with sincerity. “I’m not just saying it. I’ve been thinking about it for the past six months. I’ve even been looking at a couple houses that we might be able to afford. I know we’d be switching jobs, but my company is willing to give me a transfer so it wouldn’t be a totally fresh start and you’re so obnoxiously smart, I’m sure we’d be able to get good letters of employment to quality for a mortgage and—”

  Yeah. She doesn’t need to say anything else. I seal that deal with a kiss. Not that I need a reason to kiss her, because I already have a thousand, the best one being that she’s Breona.

  I tangle my fingers through her springy curls and let her know exactly what I think about her idea. About her. About us. About all of it. She kisses me back with just as much fire, because she never could let me one up her.

  When we pull away, we’re breathless. Her eyes are shiny. She grins at me.

  “So…suitcase?”

  “Leave that. We’ll tackle it later.”

  “I have better things you can tackle,” she sasses.

  I sweep her up in my arms, giggling and screaming and mock protesting, and silence her with a kiss. Even if we miss our flight. Even if that suitcase never closes. Even if the entire world comes crashing and burning around us, neither of us is going anywhere.

  She’s never going to be my one that got away again. THE END

  The Brides of Christmas Series:

  Book 1 - Falling in love with my ex’s best

  Book 3 - Her Sister’s Forbidden Ex

  More Books by Izabella Brooks

  The Overnight Daddy

  Best Friend Brother’s Baby

  The Irishman's Pretend Wife

  The Green Card Wife ((Lending Love: Book 1)

  Child of His Revenge

  The Seven Year Secret

  Billionaire’s Tainted Reputation

  The Billionaire's Shocking Daughter

  His Troubled Heart

  The Paper Marriage (Contracted Ever After Book 1)

  Wife for a Year ( Contracted Ever After Book 2)

  The Love Surprise (( Contracted Ever After Book 3)

  About the Author

&nbs
p; A former financial adviser in Atlanta, Georgia, Izabella Brooks turned her back on the world of finance to pursue her true passion: romance!

  Relocating to the more rural Pinehurst, Georgia, Izabella loves her new life with her handsome fiancé and doesn't miss her old career one bit. Through her writing, she's able to let her imagination run wild, and her creative ideas are quickly crafted into fun, unique stories that are often ripped from situations she's encountered in real life.

  Izabella's currently planning her wedding, but that hasn't slowed her writing down any! She devotes eight hours a day to her keyboard, where her quick fingers work to keep up with her even quicker mind.

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