A Season of You
Page 24
But she knew the way even in the dark. And before long they were standing by Grey’s yacht again. All the lights were on. She’d made sure of that. In fact, she’d spent several hours putting up even more. There wasn’t a spare inch that wasn’t twinkling gently in all the colors of the rainbow. She’d even wound lights around the mooring lines—at considerable risk of falling into the harbor. And she’d left the gangplank down.
“Mina?” Will said. “What are we doing here?”
“We had a deal,” she said. “You said you’d come on Dad’s yacht if I came to your place.” She was trying to sound calm. She didn’t feel calm. She had to shove her hands into her pockets to hide the fact they were shaking.
“I thought that any deals were off when it came to you and me,” Will said slowly.
“Well, I thought that maybe you could come aboard and we could talk about that.” She took a step back toward the yacht. Maybe the lights would dazzle him into going along with her plan.
Will didn’t move. “You made it pretty clear we didn’t have anything to talk about.”
“Yeah. About that. I’d plead shock, but to be honest, I was being an asshole. If I promise to behave better this time, will you please get on the boat?” She stepped to one side of the gangplank, gesturing for him to go ahead. She didn’t let her eyes move away from his face.
“Define ‘better,’” Will said. But then he stepped forward and put his hand on the gangplank railing. Which swayed slightly. He froze. “You know, I said I’d do this in daylight.”
“Sunset. Christmas lights enough to blind you. Close enough.” She moved behind him to block any retreat. “I’m right behind you.”
Will went up the gangplank. Stepped onto the boat. Stopped when he saw the mistletoe she’d hung from the string of lights right overhead.
“Mistletoe?” he said, turning back to her.
“It’s traditional this time of year.”
“Only if you’re intending to kiss somebody. Are you planning on kissing somebody?”
She couldn’t be certain, but she thought he was trying not to smile. Which made her slightly less nervous. But only slightly. “That kind of depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’ll accept my apology.”
“For being an asshole?” he said.
“For that. And for being an idiot. I—” Her throat had gone dry. She swallowed hard, tried again. “I got scared.”
“Because of the fire.”
“Partly. But I was scared before then. Too scared to see what was in front of me.”
“And what was that?”
“You,” she said simply. “A man who I hope might be in love with me. I had one of those once before. Adam … Adam was a good man. And I loved him. And I lost him. Losing him broke me in so many ways that I didn’t realize when I’d managed to put myself back together again. Didn’t see that I was ready to fall in love a second time. All I saw was the risk that I might get broken all over again.”
“And that scared you,” Will said softly.
“Yes.”
“Does it still scare you?”
“A little. But a very smart guy told me that you should feel the fear and do it anyway.”
“I see.” His hand had found her hand, somehow, fingers tangling in hers. “Do you think you’d be less scared if you knew for sure that I was in love with you?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Though I’m not sure why you would be when you know what a mess I am.”
“Because you’re my kind of mess,” he said. “Because the first time I saw you, I thought you were one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I didn’t know you then. I know you now. And now I know you’re better than beautiful. You’re brave and funny and yes, sometimes, a bit of an idiot. A gorgeous mess.”
She was crying again. Why was she crying?
“Don’t cry,” he said. “I’m about to tell you I love you.”
“I think you just did,” she managed. She swiped at her eyes with the end of her scarf.
“I love you, Mina Harper,” he said. “I know that I don’t much like water and you don’t much like whiskey but maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle?”
“I guess whiskey’s not so bad. Just don’t expect me to drink it.”
“I can live with that. As long as you don’t expect to turn me into a sailor. Deal?”
“Deal.” She smiled at him. “You said we could be a Christmas miracle. Maybe we can just be a Christmas mess instead?”
“What exactly is a Christmas mess?”
“Something shiny and real and hopeful? Something that lasts.” She didn’t know if she was making any sense at all. But he was smiling at her now.
“That sounds perfect to me,” he said. “So, Mina Harper, do you want to be my Christmas mess?”
“Yes,” she said, before he could take it back. “And I think you should stop wasting my perfectly good mistletoe.” Then she reached up to kiss the man she loved.
About the Author
EMMA DOUGLAS would love to live in a world where professional napping was a thing. But until then, she thinks writing books is a pretty awesome alternative. When not writing about imaginary people, she can be found reading, doing something crafty, binge watching TV, playing her latest song crush on repeat, or singing badly in her car. She lives in Melbourne, Australia in a tiny house stuffed full of books, too many craft supplies and two cats who take up more space than you would expect. Find out more about Emma at www.emmadouglasbooks.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A SEASON OF YOU
Copyright © 2017 Emma Douglas
Jacket photographs: background © Lori Howard/Shutterstock.com; boat © Rigucci/Shutterstock.com; couple © Pressmaster/Shutterstock.com
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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eISBN: 978-1-250-11101-2
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / October 2017
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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