But she ached even more for the way she’d treated him. She must have hurt him even more than she’d realized. Otherwise he wouldn’t have disregarded her so easily.
Outside, the snow fell softly. She’d always loved it when it snowed on Christmas Eve. It made the magic of the day feel even more real. Later tonight, when it got dark, she’d light the candles and read The Night Before Christmas like she always did, but for the first time in her life, she wasn’t looking forward to it. It sounded like the loneliest way to spend an evening. How had she never noticed this before?
She should have just gone to Andy and Blake’s wedding.
She still could.
Now that was an idea.
She hadn’t mailed the gift like she’d intended, deciding the post office would be too crazy before the holiday. Now it sat wrapped by the door, beckoning her. And she had a dress—she’d settled on the red with the white fur wrap. She was the first to admit it looked exceptionally good with her coloring. There was no reason it should go to waste.
Besides, what was she going to do if she stayed home? Mope?
Probably. Unless Mr. Jacobson convinced her to go to the Hallelujah Chorus singalong at his church, though then she’d still be moping, just with a choir behind her.
So. . .should she?
Going to the wedding alone would be awkward and humiliating.
Yes she’d recognized that she put too much importance on social acceptance, but that realization hadn’t changed her overnight. She still cared what people thought and people might judge her if she went alone. Even if they weren’t judging her, she’d assume they were. She probably deserved that. Deserved to feel not good enough. Deserved to feel the way she’d made Ian feel all those weeks that she poked at him about this or that.
So she’d go. She’d hold her head high, and she’d accept her punishment.
She took her time getting ready, perfecting her makeup, curling her hair. When she was done, she stood in front of her full-length mirror and wished Ian could see her. Her outfit would have paired so perfectly with his, and they would have been the best-looking couple at the wedding.
What she wouldn’t do to be with him right now.
She thought about how she’d first met him, how he’d told her that Christmas magic was real. It was so silly, and she still didn’t believe in it. But, out of missing him, she closed her eyes and wished for him. Wished for him with all her might.
When she opened her eyes, she was still alone. As she’d expected. Just in case, though, she opened her phone and checked for a message from him.
There was nothing.
The doorbell rang. Jane looked at her watch. Her car was early. She scurried to get her clutch and rush downstairs, calling out as she did, “I’ll be right there!”
In the foyer, she pulled her fur wrap tighter around her, and with the wedding gift tucked under her arm, she opened the door.
Then, for the first time in days, she smiled. Because, it wasn’t her driver standing on her stoop, but Ian.
Ten
“Ian!” Jane barely had his name out before she rushed to embrace him, wedding gift and all.
He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. “And hello to you, too.” He spoke in his normal dialect, and she sighed into the sound, loving it. Loving him.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she choked into his double-breasted overcoat she’d purchased for him. Her eyes were teary. She needed to stop the waterworks or her mascara was going to be ruined.
“Sure, I’m here. We have a wedding to go to.”
Jane pulled back to look at him. “You still want to go? After last Saturday, I’d figured you’d quit.” Her intention with that email she’d sent wasn’t to get him to change his mind about going tonight. But sure enough, she could see a hint of the suit she’d purchased underneath the collar of his coat.
“Hey.” He bent to meet her eyes directly and smiled. “I’m a man who honors his commitments.”
“You are. You’re a good man.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. He was much better than she deserved, even if it had taken her a while to realize.
“I don’t know about that.” He stepped back, his eyes downcast as he scratched behind his neck. “Actually, I have to be honest. I didn’t plan on coming.”
She tried not to let that admission wound her. It’s what she’d expected, after all. And he had shown up in the end.
“Was it my email?” she asked, praying to St. Nick it was that and not the paycheck.
His perfect forehead wrinkled as his brows pushed together. “What email? Did you send something? Our wifi went out with the storm.” His phone, she knew, was so old it didn’t have internet capability. She probably should have texted him instead. “What did it say?”
“Not much.” She took a deep breath. It was harder to say this in person. “Just that—” She stopped mid-sentence. “If you didn’t get my email, why did you show up?”
He seemed to search for an answer. Then he simply shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I just did.”
Her tears began to spill over. “Oh, Ian. I was wrong. Christmas magic is real.” Otherwise, why else would he be there?
Ian’s eyes widened. “Did you just admit you were wrong?” he teased.
“I did.” She pushed back into his arms. “So wrong about so much. I should never have tried to make you into something that you aren’t. You are more than good enough. You’re perfect how you are. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.”
“So tonight, you want—”
She cut him off. “I want you to be you. Nothing else.”
“Man, I think this gig just got a whole lot easier.” His smile was contagious.
She just had one tiny issue. “And I don’t want this to be a gig for you, either. I’ll give you your final check, but I’d like you to. . .” She paused, not wanting to ruin everything by falling back into her authoritative ways. “Ian, will you go with me tonight as my date?”
“Jane, I’ll go with you tonight, as your boyfriend.”
Epilogue
“For the last time, Jane, it doesn’t need to be perfect! Want me to do it?” Ian was laughing, though, because he thought her compulsions were cute, and he knew that she knew that. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“It’s going to be perfect no matter what, because these are our wedding invitations,” she told him as she inked “Mr. and Mrs. Blake Donovan” onto a crisp linen envelope. “So there.”
“Oh, that’s good news, it means I can do all the centerpieces myself and save you all the stress!” he teased.
“Don’t you dare!” She pushed her chair back from the pile of envelopes on the dining room table and stood up to her full height to glare at her fiancé. Unfortunately, her full height was still a full foot below his, and so she found herself helpless when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Let me down,” she commanded, pounding her small fists on his back.
“Nope. You knew our deal.” He carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom—would she ever tire of using the word “their” to describe it?—before dumping her unceremoniously on the bed.
“But I wasn’t being Crazy Jane!” she protested, even as her body grew warm watching him unbutton his shirt.
“Eh, maybe not, but you looked pretty sexy stuffing those envelopes, and I want to enjoy my wife-to-be. Stuff your envelope, right?” He cracked himself up while Jane groaned.
“Gross! At least use a Christmas metaphor.”
He finished removing his shirt and lay down next to her on their bed. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
“Have my stocking stuffed by my sexy Irish fiancé? Totally.” She nipped his thumb with her teeth, enjoying the way it made his eyes darken.
“No, silly. I mean are you sure you want to marry me on your favorite day of the year? A Christmas wedding means sharing our day with your holiday. With my family, most likely. It won’t
be the quiet, picture-book day you’re used to.”
Jane thought back to the previous year, to the magic of realizing that her and Ian were in love as they whirled around the dance floor at Blake and Andy’s Christmas Eve wedding. And the quieter, more satisfying magic of realizing their wedding was actually really, really tacky, and therefore not going to co-opt her holiday at all.
She remembered waking up in his arms the next morning, and the exhilarating drive down south to his dad’s Christmas morning breakfast. Over coffee and a Full Irish, she’d been surprised to discover she fit right into his world. When she said something snobby, it was meant with gentle laughter, not judgement.
Jane had spent a lot of time over the past year learning from Ian.
“Ian Brooks, there is no day I don’t want to share with you. And with your family. And sometimes, a scrapbook is better than a picture-book.”
With that, he kissed her deeply. As she relaxed into his embrace, she thought to herself that he’d been right all along. Christmas wishes could come true.
Also by Laurelin Paige
Visit my website for a more detailed reading order.
* * *
The Dirty Universe
Dirty Filthy Rich Boys - READ FREE
Dirty Duet: Dirty Filthy Rich Men | Dirty Filthy Rich Love
Dirty Sexy Bastard - READ FREE
Dirty Games Duet: Dirty Sexy Player | Dirty Sexy Games
Dirty Sweet Duet: Sweet Liar | Sweet Fate
Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)
Dirty Wild Trilogy: Coming 2020
The Fixed Universe
Fixed Series: Fixed on You | Found in You | Forever with You | Hudson | Fixed Forever
Found Duet: Free Me | Find Me
Chandler (a spinoff novel)
Falling Under You (a spinoff novella)
Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)
Slay Series: Slay One: Rivalry | Slay Two: Ruin
Slay Three: Revenge | Slay Four: Rising
The Open Door (a spinoff novella)
First and Last
First Touch | Last Kiss
Hollywood Standalones
One More Time
Close
Sex Symbol
Star Struck
Written with Sierra Simone
Porn Star | Hot Cop
Written with Kayti McGee under the name Laurelin McGee
Miss Match | Love Struck | MisTaken | Holiday for Hire
Also by Kayti McGee
Written with M. Pierce
By Any Other Name
Written with Laurelin Paige as Laurelin McGee
Miss Match
Love Struck
MisTaken: A Novella
Under the Covers novels
UnderCovers
Topped
Long Shot
Hands Off
Standalone
Screwmates
That Thing You Do
About Kayti McGee
Kayti McGee is livin’ deliciously in beautiful Kansas City, Missouri. Go Royals!
She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make their bios more interesting. Sometimes they podcast as IRL.
* * *
Stalk away at:
www.kaytimcgee.com
[email protected]
About Laurelin Paige
With over 2.4 million books sold, Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn't seem to complain, however. When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's probably singing, watching shows like Game of Thrones, Letterkenny and Discovery of Witches, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.
www.laurelinpaige.com
[email protected]
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