The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4)

by Marquita Valentine

  “You okay there?”

  The hair on the nape of her neck rose. She recognized that voice. It was Logan Ambrose. He was back. This was her second chance. “Yes, I’m fine. ”

  “I’m glad. That was going to be a nasty spill,” he said.

  “But it wasn’t because you saved the vase,” she chirped, then made a face. “I mean me. You saved me.”

  “Yeah... okay, you be careful and have a nice day.”

  Just as she figured out how to move the vase out of her way, Logan crossed the street. “Wait! I want to... thank you properly by taking you to Muffin Tops...” Her words trailed off in a whisper.

  Heart tumbling to her toes, she watched as he met up with a tall, blonde woman. She threw her arms around Logan and kissed him soundly before pulling away. That was when Willow got a glimpse of her face.

  “Ugh. Corrine Davis,” she muttered.

  Corrine was the worst person possible he could date. She was a notorious manizer, for lack of a better term, and had the reputation of a serial cheater. Why Logan wanted to be with a woman like that was beyond Willow.

  However, they both looked extremely happy to see one another. Although, she couldn’t blame Corinne. If Logan was hers, she would have been all over him, too.

  Corrine’s little sister suddenly barreled into the couple. Logan swept the five-year-old off her feet and put her on his shoulders before they began walking in the opposite direction. They looked like a family out of a photograph—one of those put in frames being sold that had the eye-rollingly perfect mom and dad in it.

  Willow sighed.

  She guessed this wasn’t her second chance.

  But he had rescued her, even if he hadn’t recognized her. Then again, he hadn’t seen her face, only the flowers. It simply wasn’t their time. She could wait. She could be patient.

  The opportunity would come along. When it did, she would simply go for it.

  However, over the next few years, the opportunity never came along. Logan was always with Corrine when he came to Holland Springs, while Willow turned into a complete klutz whenever she was around him.

  The only positive was that her klutziness put her directly in his path. The negatives were that he had a girlfriend and didn’t seem to even pay attention to the person he was helping each time.

  Well, except for when a delivery van nearly backed over her. He’d dove for her and rolled them both out of the way. But, at the time, she was wearing a stupid Mardi Gras mask that had been glued to her face instead of tied with ribbons.

  She remembered the feel of his hands on her body like it was yesterday.

  Okay, so it had happened yesterday, and she had the bruises to prove it.

  Her best friend Haven Crawford fixed a glass of ice tea and brought it to her. They sat in Haven’s living room with Willow’s foot propped up on a pillow. A bag of frozen peas covered her left knee.

  “This is getting out of hand, Will. Are you sure you’re not throwing yourself at the man?” Haven asked as she sat in the chair across from her.

  Willow gave her a look. “I don’t have a death wish. It’s bad for business.”

  “Sorry.” Haven didn’t bother to hide her smile. “You should get injured more often—gives you a bit of bite.”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “I can’t afford to be injured. Brides to soothe and arrangements to book.”

  Haven shuddered. “Bridezillas.”

  “Oh please, you enjoy playing bad cop to my good cop.” Willow took a sip of tea and exhaled. “What time does book club start?”

  Her friend glanced at her phone. “Thirty minutes.”

  “Is it bad I want to skip?”

  “Near-death experiences will do that to you,” Haven said solemnly.

  Willow threw a pillow at her, but Haven easily caught it. “Shut up.”

  “If you can wait five minutes, let me grab Gotham from outside and I’ll take you home.”

  “I’d love you for that.”

  Haven left the room. Willow stayed put and drank her tea, but Haven was taking way longer than five minutes. Her bladder suddenly felt like it was about to explode.

  Easing off the sofa, Willow hobbled to the bathroom in the hallway. Pain radiated up her leg in throbbing waves, making it almost impossible for her to sit and stand again. Once she was done, she washed and dried her hands, then made her way back to the living room.

  As soon as she rounded the corner, a black cat shot through the hallway and between her legs.

  Haven shouted.

  The door slammed, and the cat ran back through Willow’s legs as she tried to get away.

  Willow’s foot caught on the edge of the rug, and the room tilted. “Not again,” she groaned, bracing for impact.

  Except, once again, she didn’t hit the floor.

  “We really have to stop meeting like this,” Logan said, and her heart jumped.

  With an awkward laugh, Willow nodded as he set her back on her feet. “For sure.” Her injured knee gave out, and she grabbed on to him for support. His arm slipped around her back. “Sorry. Trick knee.”

  A grin broke out on his face. “Glad to see you’re doing okay today.”

  She was more than okay when she was in his arms. Or rather, his arm, singular. Whatever. He was touching her, and that was all that mattered. “I am now.”

  Corrine invaded their personal space, her floral scent announcing her arrival. It wasn’t in a bad way either. While Willow loathed the woman for her cheating ways, Corrine had style and was actually a very classy dresser.

  The older woman’s eyes narrowed on Willow’s hands. Reluctantly, she let go of Logan. “Hi, Corrine. That’s a lovely sweater you’re wearing.”

  “Thank you.” Corinne managed a smile, but it was rather toothy.

  “You didn’t tell me there would be food,” Logan said suddenly, then patted Willow on the back and made a beeline for the parlor. “I’ll be in here until book club starts.”

  Willow felt her smile slip. Once again, she’d wasted an opportunity to get close to him. To talk to him. To—

  “Plan on manhandling my boyfriend anymore tonight?” Corinne asked once Logan was out of earshot.

  Heat made her face grow hot. “I wasn’t—”

  “Spare me.”

  “I really wasn’t doing anything. I fell. He was there. That’s it.”

  Corinne looked less than convinced, and her next words proved it. “You’re a lot craftier than I thought.”

  Haven grabbed Willow’s arm and pulled her over to her side “She totes is, Cor. You should see the centerpieces she made for the Hernandez-Smythe wedding next week.”

  Corinne’s lips flattened. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?” Logan asked, a plate laden with food in one hand. It was obvious that he’d caught the tail end of their conversation.

  “Yes, what did you mean?” Haven taunted.

  They all knew Corrine was only spiteful to any woman she viewed as competition, and it was something she tried to hide from men she viewed as screwable.

  Corrine’s lips practically peeled back from her teeth in what Willow could only call a parody of a smile. She hoped to God that she never had to plan a wedding for the woman. And God help her if she was ever faced with the possibility of planning one for Corrine and Logan.

  “Only that someday, I hope to hire Willow to plan my own wedding.” She gave Logan a wink.

  Willow wanted to hurl.

  “This from the woman who thinks marriage is an archaic convention?” he asked.

  Corinne shrugged. “A woman has the right to change her mind, especially for the right man.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.

  A look passed between them.

  Unable to take another second, Willow yanked her arm out of Haven’s grasp and shuffled to the front door, ignoring the screaming pain in her leg. “Have a good night, y’all.”

  Haven chased after her, catching up to her as she
opened the car door. “I said I would take you home.”

  “You have guests.”

  Haven crossed her arms over her chest. “Corinne is not my guest. I don’t know who invited her.”

  “Probably one of Logan’s sisters—like Zoe.” She let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s time for me to face reality. Logan will never be mine. He didn’t even know who I was at your wedding.”

  “I can get Heath to talk to him.”

  Willow touched her friend’s arm, love for her swelling in her heart. She wasn’t quite sure how the business arrangement she’d made with Haven to host weddings at Chesson House had turned into a long-term friendship, but she was thankful for it in so many ways.

  “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it would be awkward and weird.” She was awkward and weird.

  “The only thing awkward and weird is the way you go from graceful to full-on spaz whenever Logan’s around. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that the Holland gene completely skipped you.”

  “It did skip me... or haven’t you noticed the lack of male attention wherever I go?” Willow shook her head. “I’ve been invisible for years, Haven. You barely remember me from our high school days.”

  “That’s because I was rebelling against... everything,” Haven grumbled.

  “And look how that turned out for you—happily married to a hot baseball player. Maybe I should have rebelled, too.”

  “Someday soon, it will be your turn, Willow Blue, and it will be when you stop worrying about it.”

  “But I’m a worrier by nature.”

  “True and it’s what makes you good at what you do, but seriously, Will... think about doing something different for once. Stop wondering when Logan will be back in town and set your sights on someone local instead.”

  “Logan is local,” she reminded her friend. “He’s done with the Navy.”

  “He’s looking for work in Virginia to be with Corrine,” Haven pointed out.

  Willow hadn’t known that. “Then why is Corinne here?”

  “Visiting her sister.”

  “Oh.” Her voice came out weak. Pitiful sounding.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Nodding, Willow slid inside her small SUV. “It’s not your fault. I have to own this.”

  “That’s the spirit! Your next step is to find a guy here you want to date and make it happen.”

  She gave Haven a bright smile, one that she did not feel in the least. “I’ll do that.”

  “Love you. Be safe and call me if you need anything.” Haven began to walk away. “Oh, and don’t forget—my place for Christmas Eve.”

  “I’ll be there with bells on.” With a little wave, Willow shut the door, put on her seatbelt, and started up the engine. Haven made it sound so simple, but for a wallflower like Willow... it sounded like climbing Mt. Everest without safety gear.

  Chapter Two

  Present Day

  Willow had never done something so irresponsible in her life, but she was sick and tired of waiting in the wings. Sick and tired of being the girl who went to every wedding, yet who never got to be the bride.

  If she couldn’t be the bride, then she sure as heck could take herself on a vacation to Sin City, itself.

  Sure, her logic might be off, but what else could a wallflower like her do? Stay in the same town and wait for a man who would never be hers? Wait around for a second chance that would never, ever come?

  Hardly.

  And hadn’t Haven encouraged her to do this? Well, not this exactly. Probably not this at all. But she didn’t care. It was all her idea to come here and have a wild weekend.

  To be completely honest, she’d gotten the idea from Zoe Romanov, aka Zoe Ambrose, aka Logan’s sister. Zoe had gone to Vegas and wound up married to world-famous actor, Christian Romanov. Not that she expected to get married to anyone, least of all an actor—world famous or not.

  No, she would flirt and be all non-Willow-like here.

  On the opposite side of the pool, a couple of guys smiled at her. Nervously, she raised her drink and attempted to toast them, but the icy liquid sloshed over one side.

  With an inward sigh, she sucked the liquid off her hand.

  “It’s you,” a voice slurred.

  She inhaled a small piece of ice, and her eyes started watering. Luckily for her, the ice melted quickly. Glancing up, up, up, she found herself staring into the face of the man who regularly starred in her dreams at night.

  “You’re the pixie from my brother’s wedding,” he said, his voice clearer now. Maybe he’d swallowed wrong, too. “Maple...no...” He snapped his fingers. “Willow. You’re Willow.”

  Heart beating like a deranged hummingbird in her chest, she said, “Willow Vaughn.”

  He eyed her, and, for once, she eyed him right back... until she blushed and had to look away.

  “Hello, Willow Vaughn. I’m here all alone. How would you like to spend some time together?”

  All alone?

  As in... without Corrine?

  Had he finally wised up to that hosebeast’s cheating ways?

  She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing would come out beyond a squeak. Her second chance was finally happening. Oh, good Lord. Her birthday wish was coming true.

  Aaaand... that was lame. The birthday wish of her eighteen-year-old self shouldn’t even remotely be on her mind.

  Except it was.

  Except it always had been whenever she was around Logan.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Nodding frantically, she gulped down some of the drink to stall for time, becoming lightheaded in the process. “Fine. Just dandy. Fine and dandy.” Stop sounding like an old-fashioned idiot! With a smile, she clamped her lips together and set her glass down.

  He held out his hand, a strong, sexy hand that made her knees shake. “Let’s go.”

  In that instant, Willow knew that if she took his hand, everything would change. She swallowed, then slid her fingers into his warm palm.

  He gripped her hand and tugged her to a standing position. She managed to grab her hat, holding it firmly to the top of her head before he took off, his long strides forcing her to jog—in wedge sandals no less, but if anyone was a pro at running in heels, it was her.

  Some weddings required her to run around in controlled chaos. Or rather, the brides did. A time or two, the mother of the bride had been the culprit of making everyone crazy.

  Logan stopped abruptly and let go of her, neatly jumping into the pool and turning around, a slow smile creeping on his face as his eyes raked over her. He ran his hands up her calves, then back down again. Her entire body shivered with pleasure, her nipples hardened, and her entire body began to flush.

  “Such soft skin. Curvy legs. Damn, girl,” he muttered.

  If the man didn’t stop touching her and talking about her like that, she would embarrass herself by accidentally on purpose falling into his arms.

  “Join me, Blue Eyes,” he said.

  He had a nickname for her? Cue swoony sigh. This was so much better than being almost run over by a delivery truck.

  “Give me a minute.” She licked her lips, wishing for the liquid courage she’d left behind as she bent down to unbuckle the straps of her heels.

  Logan brushed her hands away. “Allow me.” He made quick work of the straps and even held her steady while she slipped out of her shoes.

  She eyed the depth of the water, noting that it came up past his waist. If she jumped in from here, she would end up looking like a drowned rat. That was so not the look she was going for at this moment.

  “I’ll need to walk down to the other end and—”

  Logan grabbed her. She fell into his arms with an undignified squeal, one hand smashing her hat on her head.

  “You’re not going to dunk me, are you?” She eyed him to let him know she meant business. “I don’t want to mess up my hair.”

  His liquid-brown eyes gleamed with amusement. “No.” He continued to hold her and she
savored the moment, nearly sighing dreamily when she realized how muscular he was, how his broad and define his chest was... and the arms that held her—swoon city. His light-brown skin gleamed in the sun as drops of water glittered. She had the urge to lick him. All she had to do was turn her head and—

  He put her down in the water beside him, then led her to a submerged tile bench and pulled her between his legs as he sat down. His big hands never left her hips.

  She let out a dreamy sigh, then cleared her throat and smiled at him, even as the brim of her hat flopped over one eye. As she shoved it back, she waited for him to say something, but all he did was stare at her.

  Wasn’t Logan Ambrose supposed to be the talkative twin? Hadn’t he always talked to her before?

  Yes, but he’d just finished saving you from near death or destruction. Asking if you’re okay wasn’t exactly scintillating conversation.

  But at prom, we...

  Prom was seven years ago.

  No dice, baby.

  Lord. Even her inner voice had gone Vegas on her.

  “The water’s nice,” she said. His hands on her body were even nicer, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. Besides, he might let go if she brought attention to the fact.

  And she half-expected Corinne to pop up out of nowhere to accuse her of manhandling her boyfriend again.

  “Better now that you’re in it.”

  Willow blinked at him. Was he flirting with her? “Thank you?”

  One of his fingers edged under the side ties of her bikini bottom. “I like these.”

  “Me, too. I’ve been working with a personal trainer to get all this junk to fit in the bottoms,” she said in a rush, eager to start a two-sided conversation. “Do you work out a lot?”

  “All the time.” He slipped his finger out and slowly ran his hands around her hips before fully cupping her bottom. “I like this even better.”

  Her face heated so quickly that she saw stars in front of her eyes. “Oh my... we don’t actually know one another well enough to make assessments on body parts.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Logan winked at her, obviously not sorry at all. However, he let go of her and motioned for a poolside waitress to take his order.