“For what?” she asked breathlessly.
“Do you think it’s time we got married?”
She scrambled into a sitting position and stared at him. “Married? Do you mean it? When? Are you serious? You want to get married?” The words came out so fast she tripped and tumbled over them.
Chris laughed. “Very serious.”
She punched him gently in the arm, slumped back on the seat and chuckled. “No you’re not. You’re such a tease. If you were serious you’d get down on one knee and do it properly.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Isn’t that a bit old-fashioned?”
She shrugged as off-handedly as she could manage. He was joking – she was sure of it – but her heart was still zooming a million miles an hour. If he was serious, she’d say yes in a heartbeat.
“It might be old-fashioned to you, Dr. Nicholls, but when a girl’s waited long enough for a proposal from the man of her dreams, she expects it to be romantic.”
Chris leaped up from the couch with a grin. “All right then, Miss Allen. I’ll show you romantic. Get your coat. I want to show you something outside.”
She groaned. “Are you kidding me? It’s like minus one hundred outside and I’m warm and comfortable. Can’t it wait until the morning?”
“No way. Not if you want romance.”
She continued to protest good-naturedly as she slipped her feet into her fur-lined boots. Chris waited patiently while she buttoned up her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. He handed her gloves and a bright red toque.
“You’ll need these, too,” he said, before pulling his own hat down over his ears.
She followed him out the back door and hand in hand they tramped through the thick snow down the hill to the jetty. Halfway there, he tugged her gently toward the pine plantation. She stopped in surprise when she saw the pathway that led to the other side of the trees was lit with candles in paper bags set in the snow.
Her breath caught and her hand flew to her mouth. “Did you do this?”
He nodded.
“On your own?”
He scratched at his jaw. “I may have had some help.”
“Who?”
“My brothers.” He beckoned her closer. “Keep walking. You have to see what’s on the other side of the trees.”
They continued through the woods in silence, the only sound the shuffling of their clothing and their footsteps on the ground. This far into the plantation, the snow wasn’t as deep and they quickly reached the other side of the trees. She came to a skidding halt and gulped in astonishment.
In front of her, between two trees, was a timber swing she’d never seen before. The swing was covered in a light dusting of snow. Overhead, strung between the trees, were tiny fairy lights in the shapes of snowflakes and hearts.
Her feet propelled her closer until her eyes made out the message written in the snow on the seat of the swing. Two simple words.
Marry me.
Tears filled her eyes and she brushed them away. “Are you serious?”
Chris didn’t reply, but instead reached above her head and touched one of the hanging hearts to make it spin. She looked up and nearly swooned. Tied to a pink ribbon hanging from the heart was a sparkling diamond ring. She watched as Chris carefully undid the bow, dropped to one knee in front of her and extended the ring toward her between his fingers.
“Melissa Grace Allen, you are my best friend. I love you now as I always have. Would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Unable to find words, she nodded vigorously and dropped to her knees in the snow to face him. She took his cheeks in her hands and met his lips for a tender kiss. A kiss full of friendship, love and heartfelt promises for a long and happy future.
“Yes,” she said finally when she could breathe again. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She raised her mouth for another kiss. This time, his mouth claimed hers in a dizzying passionate kiss, leaving her breathless and wanting more.
He removed her glove and slipped the ring on her finger.
She gazed down at it in wonder. “It’s a perfect size.”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love it.”
“Phew. Want to see the next surprise?”
She nodded, barely able to take her eyes off the rock on her finger. “I don’t know how you’re going to beat this, though.”
He took her hand and they returned through the pine plantation back to the boathouse. Lights lit up every window. When she got closer she saw a trail of rose petals forming a path to the door in the snow.
“Roses? Really? In winter?”
“They’re actually made of silk. I tried to find real ones but no luck so this had to do. I did find mistletoe, though,” he said, pointing to the small sprig hanging from the doorframe.
“But it’s not Christmas anymore.”
“Ah, yes, but the mistletoe’s magic lasts the whole year round.” He handed her a key.
She frowned. “What’s this for?”
He pointed to the door. “Open it and see.”
“When has the boathouse ever been locked?”
“Stop asking questions and open the door.” He nudged her gently with his hand. “Go on.”
Unlocking the door and pushing it open, Melissa gasped again. Someone had cleaned out the entire boatshed, turning it into a gorgeous little cottage.
She faced him. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s yours. Somewhere for you to stay while we give Jasmine time to get used to us together and until we decide where we’re going to live.”
“Mine?” she asked, turning in slow circles and taking everything in.
In the corner of the large space was a glowing gas fire. In front of it sat a couch and an armchair. Her photo album sat on a small square coffee table. Under one window was a table and four chairs. The kitchen was tiny but perfectly usable. A gorgeous rainbow rag rug was on the floor. She climbed the ladder and peered into the loft. Upstairs a large sleigh bed was covered in white and blue linen. The Hamptons-style nautical theme was perfect for the little boathouse.
She came back down and stared at Chris, shaking her head in bewilderment. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat but couldn’t.
“It’s mine?” she repeated.
“All yours. It was actually Dad’s idea. After we found Jasmine here and I explained why you knew where to find her, he realized its potential. No one uses it and certainly not in winter. He knew you couldn’t afford to rebuild your own place and hoped this might do in the interim.”
“Where did you put everything?”
“Some of it is in the garage up at the house and the rest of it was spread between everyone else’s houses. Mom was thrilled to get rid of some of this stuff.”
“But how did you do all of this in a week?” She pushed open the door into the tiny bathroom. It had been completely remodeled too.
“That’s what family is for. We worked on it together. Is it okay?”
“Very okay.” She shook her head and wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll spend the night here with me,” he said, moving toward her.
A warmth she’d never experienced before flooded her entire body and they drew together as if pulled by a puppeteer’s strings.
“We have lots of time to make up for, you know,” he said as he kissed her jaw and nuzzled her neck. “Perhaps we can start now.”
“That sounds like a magical idea.”
THE END
Acknowledgments
As always, my first thanks are to Tim, my incredible husband and amazing dad to our children. Thank you for being part of this amazing writing journey, for celebrating my achievements and for encouraging me to keep doing what I’m doing. I know there are many more wonderful adventures ahead of us and I look forward to lots of “tomorrows” with you. One thing I promise to do is keep loving you. Let’s step boldly into this next season and see where it t
akes us.
To Jeremy, Chloe, Zach and Toby, you guys are amazing and I count it a privilege to be your mum. Thank you for everything, but especially for putting up with me when I can’t be bothered cooking dinner. (Okay, I admit that’s every night.) I might appear distracted when I’m writing (and at other times), but believe me, I will drop everything for you and I’ll always be your biggest supporter even if I’m not the loudest. I’d love to make special mention to two wonderful young ladies who have recently come into our lives - Dominique and Issy – you girls are gorgeous.
I also want to thank the incredible team at Pan Macmillan who once again jumped at the idea of another Christmas novella. Special acknowledgment to Haylee and Alex and of course to my editor Julia who has been with me the whole way and helps pick up those pesky mistakes. And Danielle, cover designer extraordinaire, you have done it again! I sincerely hope you win another cover design award for this one too, just like the last one.
To my many author mates, your friendship is invaluable to me. Thank you.
Operation Mistletoe Magic Page 9