The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4)

by Marquita Valentine

  Logan shrugged, tucking his hands into his pocket. “Home, I guess.”

  “You didn’t think to invite her tonight?” Heath said. He knew Willow better than anyone because he was married to her best friend Haven. “I mean, dude—talk about the wrong way to start a marriage.”

  “Yeah, give me advice, jockhead. You’ve been married for all of five minutes and know exactly shit.”

  “Haven said that Willow said you haven’t bothered talking to her since you left without eating dinner.” Heath, that rat bastard, relayed the gossip to the entire group. “Basically, he left his wife alone on Christmas.”

  “Damn.”

  Someone whistled and tsked, like he was in trouble.

  Frustration rose inside of him. “I haven’t talked to her because I’m pissed off and don’t want to make things worse.”

  “Silence makes things worse,” his twin said. “Silence paves the way for assumptions and misunderstandings.”

  “It’s been twenty-four hours, not months or years,” Logan snapped, although his twin did know what he was talking about.

  Assumptions and misunderstandings had eventually led to divorce, and it took a decade for Luke to win his wife back. But win her back he did. However, it was different for his brother and Lily. They’d known each other since they were teenagers and had gotten married too young, not happened to have met a woman from the same hometown, gotten drunk, and then gotten married.

  Yeah, he’d known of Willow’s existence for years, but he hadn’t been privy to her thoughts or known what her body looked like when she came. Or how she felt in his arms, so vulnerable and trusting of him to take care of her.

  “I know that look,” Christian, his brother-in-law, said. “You’re think of Willow right now. Thinking of all the ways she’s different and new.”

  Smarmy British bastard. “Not you too,” Logan groaned. “I wanted to come here to hang out, not get relationship advice.”

  “Fine. What else do you want to talk about?” Heath asked.

  “Well,” Logan began, taking his hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking...” His twin snickered, and Logan glared at him. “About what I want to do now that I’m done with the military. I want something more peaceful, something that I can use my hands for other than... protecting.”

  “And?” Carter prompted.

  “I don’t want to ask for what’s not possible or if it’s something that you,” he glanced at Carter, “or Heath had in mind for either of y’all’s futures, but um...”

  “He wants the farm,” his twin finished for him, and Logan blew out a breath. “Always has.”

  “Yeah, what he said.”

  Carter and Heath gave him twin looks of why would you think we cared?

  “It’s not that I don’t feel like family, or your blood, but I’m not and this isn’t my birthright. I’m not a true Ambrose.”

  “In everything that counts, you are,” Carter disagreed. “Let me ask you one question.”

  “Go for it.”

  “Don’t you think if Heath and I wanted to farm, we would have done so by now? We both chose careers that made it damn near impossible to be home for any length of time, and while I’m retired, I have my own business to run. Heath’s still playing ball and doesn’t have plans to stop anytime soon. We had the opportunity, brother. We didn’t take it. If you want it, talk to Dad. I think he’d be honored.”

  Logan nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  “Then you need to get things sorted with your wife,” Christian said.

  “If you don’t, then I’ll tell Mom,” Heath threatened.

  “Like Haven hasn’t told her already,” Logan shot back.

  His younger brother shook his head. “She’s the one who suggested we all talk. So her lips are sealed... until they’re not.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to sort things out?”

  “Not our problem, mate.” His brother-in-law chuckled. “Besides, I thought once Ambroses married, they did so for life.”

  “Yeah, we do, but I’m not too sure about the bride.” Logan stalked back to the house. He needed a battle plan, a clear objective and the steps he’d take to achieve it.

  But as soon as he stepped inside his old room, it hit him.

  How in the hell did he make his wife fall in love with him?

  “I’m so fucked,” he groaned.

  ***

  It was work as usual at Willow’s office. She’d already had three consultations, two conference calls, and then this evening, she had a dinner meeting.

  An incoming text let her know that she could cross the dinner meeting off her list.

  “Sweet.” Maybe she’d get out of here before six this evening, after all.

  After catching up on the day’s emails, she gathered her things and headed outside. Since her office was located in the heart of downtown Holland Springs, she could not only walk to all the local businesses, she could also stroll home when the weather was nice, as well.

  All in all, everything was ridiculously convenient, but in such an amazing way.

  She loved her life in Holland Springs, loved that she knew everyone and everyone knew her. Well, she used to love that.

  At least three clients emailed today to congratulate her and to get the details on her wedding. It was so dang embarrassing to admit the truth.

  She’d gotten married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator in a gold lame jumpsuit while a RuPaul impersonator served as her bridesmaid and Logan’s best man. She had no idea what songs were played or what kind of flowers were in her bouquet. It hadn’t mattered at the time because she was too excited about marrying the man of her dreams.

  For all she knew, they could have played the Hokey Pokey while she held poison oak with a cascade of poison ivy for good measure. Her hands weren’t itchy, though, so it was a safe bet she had held non-itchy flowers.

  Plus, she hadn’t heard from her husband in two days, but she hadn’t exactly reached out to him either.

  She sighed thickly.

  Thunder boomed and the bottom fell out.

  It was what she got for ignoring the weather. The day had started out so sunny that she didn’t believe it could change over to ice that quickly. Boy, had she been wrong.

  Zipping and buttoning up her coat, she slipped her hood over head and went outside, pausing to lock the door. Then she turned around to survey her options.

  Walking. That was her only option.

  She held out her hand and sleet filled up the palm.

  Great. Just great.

  The sidewalks were going to be a nightmare, but if she walked really slowly, then maybe she’d only bust her tail once.

  Twice if she were lucky.

  A guy in a familiar-looking black truck honked at her, then put his window down. “Stay right there and I’ll come get you,” Logan shouted from inside, and her heart jumped in response. He parked the truck right by the curb and got out, striding to her.

  The closer he got, the more nervous she became.

  He was here. For her.

  “Your two weeks isn’t up yet,” she blurted.

  Logan grabbed her arm, propelling her forward. “Didn’t realize I needed to wait two weeks until I saw you again.”

  He had a point. “You didn’t have to wait, but I thought you would.”

  “Nope, I’ve been wanting to see you, but I’ve been busy working.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You did?”

  Frozen rain hit her in the face as they stopped by the truck. He opened the door and helped her inside, taking the time to make sure she got all the way in and was buckled up before he shut the door.

  Holding up her hands, she warmed them in front of the vents while keeping a close eye on Logan as he slid around the front of the truck, a grin on his face the whole time.

  Apparently, sleet made him happy.

  His door was yanked open, and cold air flooded the cabin. He swung up inside and slamm
ed the door shut.

  “Holy shit, that’s cold. Forgot how cold it can get,” he said.

  “It wasn’t cold where you were, uh, stationed?” she asked.

  “Nah, I got all the hot places,” he said with a wink, then began to slowly pull into traffic. At least this time of day, the streets were mostly empty, with only a few cars parked for early diners. “Anyway, back to your question—yes, I wanted to see you. Haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we last talked.”

  “I haven’t either,” she admitted, admiring the way he drove through the untreated streets. Snow wasn’t that common and ice, while it was more common, was still a pain because the roads hadn’t been treated with sand and salt. If they weren’t careful, they could slide into a lamp pole, a car, or even a bench.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked. “I brought my own groceries.”

  “You did?” She craned her neck around and looked in the backseat. Sure enough, four bags of groceries sat in the floor. “Well, if you’re doing the cooking...”

  “That’s my plan. My wife’s been on her feet all day. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Your wife, huh?” She gazed at him out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  He nodded. “Oh yeah. Everyone knows you’re my wife... except my mother.”

  “She doesn’t know? That’s hard to fathom.”

  “The entire town is willing to keep a secret for a hometown hero.” He grinned. “And it helps that the weather sucks.”

  “What about your mother’s spies?”

  “They’ve been sworn to secrecy, too.”

  “Did you promise them backrubs?”

  He laughed. “I promised them something even juicier.”

  She looked at him in confusion and awe. “Like what?”

  “Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a juicy secret.”

  “Okay, then.” Shaking her head, she smiled. “How long do they have to keep our marriage a secret from your momma?”

  “Until I give them the signal.”

  “Like Batman, only with older ladies?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Logan made a right turn and eased his way into the parking lot. Most of the asphalt was already covered with sleet and ice.

  “I have a parking space beside my SUV if you want to park there instead of in guest parking,” she offered. “It’s one space per bedroom.”

  “Maybe you’d let me stay in your extra bedroom tonight?” He parked the truck and leaned forward to look up at the sky through the windshield. “Doesn’t look like the weather’s getting any better.”

  “You can stay.”

  His smile took her breath away. “Give me your keys. I’ll leave the truck running while I take in the groceries, then come back for you.”

  “I’m not fragile or helpless,” she half-protested, but it was nice to be cared for like that.

  “Didn’t say you were, but this is the kind of treatment my wife gets.” He grabbed her keys and got out. It took him no time at all to unlock the door and bring the groceries in, but by the time he came for her... her knees were shaky and her pulse was pounding.

  “Let me see your shoes.”

  She held out a foot.

  “I’ll have to carry you,” he said, then picked her up and had her inside before she could bother to protest. “Stay here, Blue Eyes. I need to get my keys.”

  While he was gone, she unpacked the groceries and put them away.

  “Holy fu—crap, it’s gotten cold outside,” he said. “Sorry it took me so long. I had to help one of your neighbors grab their dog.”

  “Must be Mrs. Huley. Her poodle escapes all the time.”

  He stood there for a minute, just gazing at her, until she had to look away. “What?”

  “You’re so damn pretty.” He took off his boots and hung his coat up by the front door. “Go do your thing while I cook dinner for you.”

  “I don’t really have a thing.”

  “Everyone has a thing, a routine... a ritual they follow.”

  “Oh, that. Duh. Yeah, usually, I drink a glass of wine and take a bubble bath to unwind.” But drinking wine was off the menu. She cleared her throat. “I’ll go change into something more comfortable and spend time with you instead. You don’t know where everything goes, so you might need me.”

  “Take your bath, sweetheart. I can figure it out.” Rummaging through her cabinets, he pulled out some pots and pans, then placed them on the gas stove “I had to find my way out of, well, let’s say a not so friendly to Americans type of place with only a compass and a barely working knowledge of the local language. So this should be a breeze.”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll go. I’ll go.”

  “Be back here in thirty minutes and bring your appetite,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him a smart salute and walked to the bathroom. After cutting on the water and adjusting the temperature, she undressed and pulled out a fluffy towel, laying it on the counter beside the sink.

  Goose bumps broke out on her body as soon as she stepped into the large tub. The water felt so good as she lowered herself into it and leaned back. Propping her feet against the opposite side, she let the hot water run over them until the tub was full, then sat up to turn the water off.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes and sank back in the water, letting the heat ease the tension in her shoulders and neck.

  A soft knock made her eyes open.

  Logan stepped in the bathroom, holding a glass. “Thought you could use something to drink. Don’t worry, it’s only sparkling grape juice. Picked some up at the store.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” she said, taking the glass from him. She didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over her body. “I forgot the bubbles.”

  “I can see that.” He moved closer to the tub, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Looks, uh, relaxing.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “Did you need anything?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head, but he didn’t take his eyes off her as he leaned against the counter. “Just enjoying the view.”

  “What about supper?”

  “It’s in the oven.”

  “Wow. You’re fast.”

  “Except when I don’t need to be.” He winked, and she blushed. She knew exactly what he referred to. “ How was your day?”

  “Busy. Lots of meetings and conference calls.”

  “Good calls, I hope.”

  She nodded. “What about you?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Actually, I’ve been talking to my dad, trying to figure out what I want to do next.”

  Her stomach flipped at the thought of what he could do next—stay or leave. “And?”

  “I’m excited.”

  Her brows crashed together. “Oh.”

  “It’s not every day a guy gets to come back home and help take over the family business.”

  She blinked. “You’re going to farm?”

  A huge, proud grin broke out on his face. “Yup. Been a dream of mine for years. Didn’t know if I was the only one, so I had to clear it with Carter and Heath first.”

  “Okay, so I get that Carter’s the oldest and you didn’t want to step on his toes, but Heath? You’re older than he his.”

  His gaze skittered away. “It wasn’t that. It was... Well, I’m not blood like they are and didn’t think it was right to waltz in there and tell Dad that I wanted to carry on the Ambrose family tradition. What right did I have to that?”

  Her heart went out to him, a big, strong, and competent man, a man who served his country, loved his family, and yet still felt like he had to ask for permission because he was adopted. She wanted to be mad at someone for him, but it didn’t sound like his feelings were put on him. “You’re part of the family, Logan. Your last name is the name as theirs. What difference does it make when it comes to DNA?”

  “That’s what Carter said. Heat
h agreed with him.”

  Warmth filled her at the thought of his brothers being on his side. As an only child, the only person on her side was her.

  “See,” she pointed out. “Even your brothers know what’s right.”

  “What do you think about me being a farmer?” he asked, his tone slightly vulnerable.

  “If that’s what you want to do, who am I to give you a hard time? Farming is hard work, and it’s an honorable profession that’s dying out. I think it fits you. If you want to be the one to take over your family’s business, then I’ll—”

  “Support me in it,” he finished for her.

  Like a wife would. “Logan.” She sighed. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, or for me to get mine up. We don’t know anything yet.”

  His jaw worked. “You think I’m only coming around because you might be pregnant.” It wasn’t a question.

  She nodded slowly. “Why else would you come around?”

  “Have you considered that you and you alone are the reason?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t get it. I gave you some space, gave me some space so I didn’t say something hurtful or stupid... picked you up from work and made you dinner. Does that sound like a man who only wants to come around on the off-chance that his wife might be pregnant?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “You were the one to say that your kid would have your last name.”

  “Yeah, I did, but that’s not all I want.” Uncrossing his arms, he pushed away from the counter and got down on his knees to look her in the face. “Let me be real clear, wifey, baby or not, I want you. I want to stay married and make this work.”

  “Only because you feel like you have to. Only because Corinne broke your heart by cheating on you, and now that everyone knows you married me, you don’t want to look foolish again when we don’t stay together,” she said,

  His eyes glowed with anger. “You really think all that about me? That my pride’s more important than making something that could be amazing work? That I only want to stay with you because of what everyone might think about me?”

  He had her there. He so had her. “I don’t know you that well,” she finally admitted, tears suddenly close to the surface. She sniffed. “I’m so confused and scared, and I’m embarrassed! My dad doesn’t even know we got married. I keep putting lunch with Haven off because I don’t know what to say, and my clients want details of something I can’t remember.”