by Debbie Mason
“No, I don’t think they even noticed that you called him Superman. Will Ethan?”
“No, so we should be good.”
“Okay, go fix your face. Your mascara ran.”
Thirty minutes later, her mascara was running again. Ethan had called to tell her he had a Christmas present for her and to go outside. “It’s bad luck for you to see me,” she said.
“Cupcake, we’re already married. But I’m not there, just your present is. Go on, open the door.”
Betty Jean, Vivi, and Maddie gathered around her as she did as he asked. At the end of the driveway sat a beautiful, old-fashioned sleigh. Raul, wearing a Santa hat, held the two horses’ reins. Skye had to lean halfway out the door, squinting through the falling snow, to get a better look at the animals. It was Bandit and the brandy-colored horse from Russo’s ranch. The two horses had bells around their necks and bright red bows. “Oh, Ethan, you saved them. That’s the best present anyone has ever given me.”
“Bandit’s yours, and so is his friend. Hey, are you okay?” he asked when Skye started to sob.
Maddie took the phone from her. “We’re going to be late. You just ruined her makeup… I’ll tell her. See you in a few.” She disconnected. “Your husband said to tell you he loves you and to hurry the hell up.”
“Told you it was a good idea for you to stay at Maddie’s till the wedding,” Betty Jean said, taking some tissues from her purse and dabbing under Skye’s eyes.
It had been kind of fun to pretend they were dating for the last two weeks. But now she was ready for their life together to begin. She wanted to be with him every waking moment and fall asleep wrapped in his arms.
By the time they finally made it to the church, they were fifteen minutes late. Raul jumped down and helped them out of the sleigh. Skye pushed back the hood of her fake white fur cape and kissed his cheek. “Feliz Navidad, Raul.”
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. O’Connor.” He gave her a half smile. “Ethan always was a smart boy. He picked the right woman. Now go make him a happy man.”
“I plan to,” she said, pleased to have won over the taciturn older man. As her friends headed for the church, Skye rounded the sleigh and pulled two apples from her muff, feeding them to Bandit and… “You need a name, don’t you, pretty girl? How about Blossom?”
“Skye,” Maddie yelled at her from the stairs, “get a move on.”
With one last pat to the horses, she joined her friends. Her father opened the church doors. “About time,” he said. “Your husband’s pacing.” His eyes got bright when Maddie took Skye’s cape and Vivi took her muff. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek and snuck a peek inside the packed church. Her throat tightened at the sight of Ethan in his black tux, talking to Paul, Gage, and Jack.
She caught Vivi anxiously scanning the pews. “Chance is out of the country,” she told her.
“I wasn’t…” Vivi rolled her eyes at Skye’s raised brow. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”
Betty Jean kissed Skye and her father, then took Sawyer’s arm. He was one of the ushers. She glanced back at them and mouthed, Oh my.
They all laughed, then turned as the door to the church opened. Grace carried little Jack inside. “Sorry we’re late,” she said, setting the toddler on the ground. Little Jack was their ring bearer. Lily, who was their flower girl, ran over and took his hand. Grace hung up her coat, then took her place in front of Vivi.
“Are we ready now?” her father asked as he straightened his bow tie.
“All…” The door to the church opened again. Two beautiful dark-haired women stepped inside. Identical twins, they had Deacon O’Connor’s coloring, but they looked a lot like their brother. The woman with the short hair was Catalina, the former police officer—or Cat, as she preferred to be called. Only a woman with Cat’s fabulous bone structure could carry off the Halle Berry haircut. Chloe, the actress, had model-perfect long hair.
“You really do look like a fairy princess. A very pregnant fairy princess.” Chloe laughed and grabbed Skye’s hands, air-kissing her on both cheeks. Shrugging out of her floor-length, sable fur coat, she glanced at her sister. “Cat, be a doll and take this.”
“Good thing there’s no paint around,” Skye’s father murmured.
Cat’s lips pursed, and she took the coat. As she removed her own serviceable dark wool jacket, she said, “Sorry, we’re late, Skye.” She kissed Skye’s cheek, then introduced herself to everyone. While she did, Chloe stood at the entrance into the church, calling out to people she knew, blowing kisses to the guests waiting patiently in the pews. Cat looked at her sister and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Chloe turned to them, fluffing her hair. “I should probably freshen up first. Can’t have a picture of me ending up in the tabloids looking less than my—”
“Chloe, take your place.”
Maddie and Vivi caught Skye’s eye as if to say Have fun with that one. Ethan had already warned her that Chloe was a drama queen.
With a huffed breath and a flick of her hair, Chloe did as she was told.
Maddie motioned to someone in the church and turned to Skye. “Your husband made a last-minute substitution.” Instead of Wagner’s Wedding March, Annie’s incredible voice drifted from the front of the church. She was singing Billy Joel’s “Just The Way You Are.”
Vivi groaned when Skye sniffed. Her father reached in his pocket for a hankie as they started up the aisle. “Figured you’d be needing this.”
Ethan turned to watch her walk down the aisle. He got a look in his eyes that she would cherish forever. Love and tenderness radiated from him. It was if everyone faded away in that moment and they were the only ones there.
Her father leaned in and kissed her, then took her hand and placed it in Ethan’s. “You take good care of her, son. She’s precious to me.”
“I will, sir,” Ethan said, looking into her eyes. “She’s precious to me, too.”
“Tissues, Cat. I need some tissues before my mascara runs,” Chloe said from behind Skye.
“Too bad she didn’t get snowed in somewhere,” Ethan muttered under his breath.
“She’s not that bad,” Skye whispered back.
“Just wait,” he warned, then smiled down at her. “You look amazing, cupcake.”
“You look pretty amazing yourself.”
“Hello again,” said the preacher who’d married them the first time. “Are you two ready to do this?”
“More than ready,” Ethan said, his expression softening as he took Skye’s hands in his. “Skylar Davis O’Connor, you are everything I want and need in a wife. You complete me. I promise to cherish you and protect you, to care for you and respect you. To encourage your dreams and to do my best to make them come true. To be the husband and father you and our baby deserve.” He brought her hands to his lips. “I love you now. I’ll love you for always.”
He gave her a tender smile as she struggled to keep from crying. “You going to be okay?” he asked.
She looked into the eyes of the man she adored and nodded. “Ethan O’Connor, you are my Prince Charming. You are my love and my life. I promise to cherish you and respect you, to care for you and encourage you. To make our family’s happiness my priority. To walk beside you, hand in hand, through the good times and the bad.” She brought his hands to her lips. “I love you. Now and forever.”
When Ethan lowered his head, about to kiss her, the preacher chuckled. “I know you’re anxious, but the ceremony’s not quite over.” Ten minutes later, he announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Ethan O’Connor.”
Everyone stood and clapped. Several people, Maddie and Vivi included, whistled loudly.
To their guests’ delight, Ethan framed Skye’s face with his hands and gave her one of his long, toe-curling kisses. When he finally let her up for air, he said, “What do you say we skip the reception, Mrs. O’Connor?”
“Your mom went to a lot of wo
rk. We can sneak…” She trailed off when she felt a gush of water run down her leg.
Ethan stepped back and looked at his now-soaked shoes.
Skye grimaced. “Sorry, my water broke.”
“Your water?” His eyes widened, and the color leached from his face. “The baby… you’re having the baby now?”
She squinched up her nose. “Merry Christmas, honey.”
“It’ll be okay, cupcake.” He lifted his frantic gaze from her, calling out, “Someone call 911. We—”
“Buddy, I am 911, remember? Now calm down. Skye has lots of time,” Gage assured him.
“Calm, you expect me to be calm? My wife is having a baby. She’s not supposed to be having a baby. Not now. It’s two weeks early.” Ethan tried to pick up Skye, but with her voluminous skirt, he was having a hard time figuring out how to do so.
“Ethan, I’m fine. Put me down,” she said, as he awkwardly lifted her.
Betty Jean, her dad, Liz, and all their friends crowded around as he set her on her feet. Everyone was talking over one another, offering everything from advice to transportation. “Her water broke. It’s not false labor, Chloe,” Ethan snapped at his sister.
“Ethan, I know more about this sort of thing than you do,” Chloe said with exaggerated patience. “I was a doctor on Days of Our Lives, remember?”
“I warned you this could happen, Liz,” Dr. McBride said to Ethan’s mother. “You should’ve listened to me. Skye didn’t need the added stress of planning a wedding.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re actually blaming me for Skye going into early labor?”
“If the shoe fits…”
When Betty Jean began arguing with Skye’s father about God knew what, she’d had enough. She lifted her skirts and headed down the aisle.
“Skye,” her husband called after her, “where are you going?”
“The hospital.”
* * *
“Look at her. She’s glowing,” Maddie said to Vivi, who sat on the other side of Skye’s hospital bed. “I looked like death warmed over, and she looks like she’s ready to go out and party.”
Vivi nudged Skye and said with a straight face, “Must’ve been all those drugs you took, Maddie.”
“Joke all you want. Wait until it’s your turn. Not everyone has twenty-minute labor,” Maddie said.
“Forty-five, and it was pretty painful, you know.”
“Right, that’s why I heard you laughing.”
“I was laughing at Ethan. Don’t tell him I told you, but the poor guy practically fainted.”
“Yeah, Mr. Calm, Cool, and in Control was definitely not in control today,” Vivi said.
Ethan came into the room with their pink bundle of joy in his arms. “I heard that,” he said as he walked to Skye’s side, tucking their daughter in beside her.
“What did Nurse Ratched say?” Skye asked her beaming husband. He’d caught sight of the older woman a few minutes ago and had gone to show off the baby.
“The only thing she could say—that our daughter is perfect. And that her mother is, too.”
“Sure she did,” Skye laughed, putting a hand on her stomach when it growled.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Starved,” she admitted.
He kissed her forehead and the baby’s. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”
As he left the room, Vivi said, “He’s going to be one of those obnoxious fathers. You know that, don’t you?”
Skye stroked her baby’s soft cheek. “I know. He’s going to spoil her rotten.” And Skye had a feeling that if she let him, he’d spoil her rotten, too.
“She really is gorgeous,” Maddie said. “And I’m not just saying that because she’s my niece.” She lifted her smiling eyes to Skye. “Remember in July when I told you that one day you’d look back and realize all the crappy stuff going on in your life then would turn out to be the best thing that could’ve happened to you? I was right, wasn’t I?”
It seemed so long ago that Skye could barely remember how desperately scared and lost she’d been. “You were. Everything really does happen for a reason. And Ethan and this little one were my reasons.” She glanced at Vivi, catching the wistful expression on her face and covered her hand with hers. “One day you’ll get your happily-ever-after. I know you will.”
Vivi pulled a face. “That only happens in fairy tales.”
“Hey, what about us?” Maddie said, gesturing to herself and Skye.
“You two are an anomaly.”
Before either of them could respond, Betty Jean helped Skye’s dad carry a decorated Christmas tree into the room. “Told you I’d find one. Set it up in that corner, Willy.”
“Where did you get it?” Ethan asked, following them in carrying a tray of food.
“Out there.” Betty Jean absently waved her hand.
As Ethan put the tray on the table in front of Skye, he said, “You stole it from one of the waiting rooms, didn’t you?”
“I borrowed it. I’ll put it back tomorrow.” Betty Jean nudged him aside. “Can’t have my little baby bun without a tree on her first Christmas, can we, snookums?” she said to the baby, nuzzling her cheek. “You are the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. Just like your mama. Willy, come kiss your girls. We’re going to head over to Liz’s and give her a hand.”
Ethan’s mother and Cat and Chloe had left half an hour ago. Liz had decided they’d have the reception without Skye and Ethan.
“We’d better go, too,” Vivi said after Betty Jean and Skye’s father had left. She kissed Skye and the baby. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“We’ll be home in the morning.”
“Tomorrow. You’re going home tomorrow?” Maddie said.
“Sweetheart, maybe you should stay another couple of days.”
“I’m not spending our first Christmas in the hospital.” At Ethan’s anxious expression, she said, “I already checked with Dr. Evans. It’s fine.”
“That reminds me, here’s…” Vivi took a book from her black messenger bag. Her gaze moved from the baby to Skye. “Is her name Clover or Meadow?”
Ethan got a nervous look in his eyes as he waited for her to answer.
“I was thinking Snowflake or Snow. What do you think, honey?” Skye asked Ethan while struggling to keep a straight face.
He shot a pleading look at her friends. When he didn’t get any help there, he said, “I think I like Peanut better.”
“I’m teasing. It’s Christmas Eve, so I thought Eve might be nice. I like Ava, too.” Skye tucked the pink blanket around her sleeping daughter’s angelic face. “Evie, she looks like an Evie, don’t you think?”
Her best friends and husband agreed that she did, and Vivi signed the book, handing it to Skye. It was the new Sugar Plum Cake Fairy Christmas story.
Ethan closed the door after they left, shut off the lights, and turned on the Christmas tree. He came back to the bed, nudging her over so he could crawl in beside her. He picked up their peacefully sleeping daughter and placed her between them. “So”—he lifted his chin as Skye flipped through the book—“do I get to live in this one?”
“Yes, we live happily ever after with our little cupcake.”
He gave her an amused smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What about the Evil Queen—how does she make out?”
“She’s not evil, after all. And I have a feeling she’ll find her own Prince Charming very soon, and we’ll all get our happily-ever-afters.”
As he lowered his head to kiss her, he said, “I like that ending.”
About the Author
My dream of becoming a published author took a backseat to raising my three children and running several businesses with my husband. In 2007, we sold the businesses and our youngest graduated from high school, giving me time to focus on my writing.
Fortunately, dreams don’t have an expiration date, and two romance groups, six manuscripts, and an agent later, my debut book, Lord of the Isles,
written under the name Debbie Mazzuca, was published in 2010.
A new chapter has begun with this contemporary romance series set in the fun-filled, fictional town of Christmas, Colorado. My characters make me laugh and cry, and, like me, they get their happy-ever-after. After thirty-plus years of marriage, my husband is still the man of my dreams. The arrival of our first grandbaby has made our lives complete. But I wouldn’t say no to a dozen more-babies or books.
You can learn more at:
AuthorDebbieMason.com
Twitter @AuthorDebMason
Facebook.com
Vivi’s best friends, Maddie and Skye, have each fallen in love and moved to scenic Christmas, Colorado. But Vivi no longer believes in a “one and only.” So why is she writing a love advice column for her newspaper—and why is Chance McBride always on her mind?
See the next page for a
preview of
Wedding Bells in Christmas.
Chapter One
Dear Heartbroken in Hoboken: Two years? Seriously, it’s time for you to move on. Stop with the what ifs. Stop trying to figure out what went wrong. This guy has taken up space in your head and heart for way longer than he deserves. You have a job you love, family and friends who love you. Focus on that, embrace that, and start enjoying your life again.
Vivian Westfield stood in the long security lineup at LaGuardia Airport rereading her responses to next week’s letters from the lovelorn. Satisfied that they met her new criteria—the one where she no longer kicked butt but gently smacked it—she sent her Dear Vivi column off to her editor. At least Heartbroken had a job that she loved, Vivi thought, as she shoved her iPad in her carry-on.
She remembered the feeling. Oh, how she remembered it. Eight months ago, Vivi’d landed her dream job as an investigative reporter for the Daily Spectator. All the long hours and hard work she’d put in at online newspapers had finally paid off. But she’d only had three lousy months to revel in the sweetness of her success.
While working on her biggest story to date—the story guaranteed to earn her editor’s respect and, more important, protect her best friend Skylar O’Connor—Vivi’s career imploded as spectacularly as a sinkhole opening up on Fifth Avenue in the middle of rush hour traffic.