Finn's Christmas Dilemma (Holiday Hunks Book 3)
Page 11
After stuffing themselves on pumpkin and apple pie and specialty cookies, thanks to Cheryl Collins, they all went to the living room to relax.
It was time. When he stood up, Finn’s mom beamed at him. How did she know?
Anyway, Finn said, “I would like your attention.” Everyone went silent. He suddenly wondered if this was a bad way to do it, but it was too late now.
Finn cleared his throat and turned to Trinity, who sat in front of him on the sofa. He was a bit awkward with his arm in a sling, but he managed to go down on one knee.
She gasped, and he started talking before he chickened out.
“Trinity, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I have always wanted you by my side as a friend, and could never imagine living my life without you. Now I am asking that you be at my side as my wife. Trinity Theresa Collins, will you marry me?”
She burst into tears, saying, “Yes, Finn, yes.”
He took a small velvet box from his pocket, took out the diamond ring inside, and slid it onto her finger, whispering, “Caroline helped me pick it out.”
Trinity leaned forward and kissed him, then said, “I have loved you my whole life too, Finn. Even when I was lost, I somehow knew that someday I would find my way back home to you.”
Their family cheered and Finn’s father brought out the wine and apple juice and poured toasts. “I want to wish my son and my future daughter-in-law every happiness in the world. And to everyone, I say—Merry Christmas!”
THE END
A Note From theAuthor
Thank you for reading FINN’S CHRISTMAS DILEMMA. If you enjoyed it, I hope you will consider posting a review. Even one line can help an author or another reader. For updates on new releases, sales, or contests, you can join my newsletter list. Your email would never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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Be sure to scroll forward to read a bonus excerpt from Casey’s story.
About the Author
Alicia Street is a USA Today bestselling author and a Daphne du Maurier award-winner. She writes both sweet and steamy romances and sometimes collaborates with her husband, Roy. Her years as a professional dancer, choreographer and teacher provide the inspiration behind her Dance 'n' Love contemporary romance series. A compulsive reader of every genre, Alicia loves watching old black-and-white movies and inventing new recipes for soup.
https://aliciastreetauthor.com/
Also by Alicia Street
All series books can be read as stand-alones
Dance ‘n’ Love series
Kiss Me, Dancer
Touch Me and Tango
Stars, Love and Pirouettes
Snow Dance
Dance ‘n’ Love Boxed Set
Tomboy Bride
Tomboy Bride is a bridge story connecting all of my series and it is the first book about one of the Rocklyn clan - Kendra Rocklyn
The Rocklyns
Lovers in Training
Maybe Lovers
Rainy Day Lovers
Encore Lovers
Windswept Lovers
Kip Rocklyn’s book - Kip’s Resolution –
is also part of the multi-author
Hot Hunks Collection
Coming soon - Finn’s Christmas Dilemma
Holiday Luv series
Be Mine For Christmas
The Christmas Honeymoon
The Christmas Wedding Cake
His Christmas Promise
Her Christmas Secret
O Christmas Tree
Holiday Luv Bundle boxed set
Miracle on Christmas Tree Street
Peconic Bend series
The Sweetheart Test
The Christmas Sparkle Test
The Leftover Bride
Bonus Excerpt
If you liked Casey in Finn’s story, here is an excerpt from hers…
Casey Richardson stopped correcting the drooping hands and unpointed feet of her nine- and ten-year-old students doing ronde de jambes at the barre when a man barged into her sunny mirrored studio, interrupting her Saturday morning ballet class.
A man who just happened to resemble a Greek god walking the earth in jeans and silky black tee. She ignored the flush of heat going through her at the sight of this hunk and said, “Excuse me, sir, but we have a class in session.”
He shot Casey an impatient glance, stunning her with teal blue eyes. Grabbed little Josh by the arm and tugged him toward the lobby.
She’d seen Josh’s parents at the last dance recital, and this guy definitely was not one of them. “Wait a second,” Casey said, trying to cut him off as he made his way from the studio. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He stepped past her.
The classroom of students fell silent. Casey turned to them. “Same drill. Ronde de jambes. Let’s go.” She nodded to Jiao at the piano. Her accompanist went into Chopin’s Waltz in C-Sharp Minor.
Casey raced out to the lobby after the man (trying not to notice he had the most splendid back she’d ever seen). Timid Josh gave him no resistance but looked like he was about to cry.
“Lisa, block the door.” The eighteen-year-old intern at the desk just sat there wide-eyed, unprepared for the sudden call to arms.
But Casey wasn’t about to let some pervert make off with one of her precious flock. As the hunk reached for the door handle she slipped in front of him, her back to the door, her palms pressed like stop signs against his chest. She told herself she didn’t notice the hard curve of muscle beneath her hands. Or that his face looked even better up close. “Hold it or I’ll call the police. Who are you, and what do you want with Josh?”
He gave her a cocky smirk, shifted his focus to her low-cut leotard and continued down her body with an assessing gaze. Casey practically lived in tights, but she suddenly felt undressed and exposed. She dropped her hands.
He murmured, “And who are you?”
His challenging tone struck an old chord of self-doubt deep within Casey. After so many years of not quite fitting anywhere and seeing everything she tried go up in smoke, she’d begun calling herself “Calamity” Richardson. But at twenty-eight the hard won accomplishment of running her own studio gave her a chance to silence that internal voice.
And after the troublesome letter she received this morning, Casey already had enough on her plate without letting some dude reeking in attitude come marching in from nowhere with an intimidating side dish of his own bad day.
“I’m Casey Richardson, the director of North Cove Dance Academy. And you are?”
“I’m his father. So, don’t go all rabid on me, pixie.”
“Josh, do you know this man? Tell me the—”
Mr. Handsome cut her off. “You want my ID? Or maybe you need a sample of my DNA?”
“I want to hear from Josh.”
“He’s my other dad,” the boy said sheepishly.
The man snorted. “Other dad? I’m his real father. Now let’s go, Josh.”
“Except, Dad, I’ve got to change my clothes.”
Coming out of his agitated state, Josh’s father seemed to finally look at the boy, who still wore tights and ballet slippers. “Oh. Okay. Go ahead.”
He turned those keen blue eyes onto Casey once more as Josh ran off. “Don’t tell me you never noticed his last name is different from his mother’s.”
Oops. Casey suddenly remembered that Josh’s mom and the man she’d seen her with at the dance recital introduced themselves as the Wentoffs, but the boy was registered as Josh Byrne. “I’m so sorry. Then you must be…”
“Drew Byrne.” He said it with the air of someone used to impressing people with his name.
Was she supposed to recognize him from somewhere? A lot of her students had wealthy, sometimes famous, parents. “Um, yes, of course. Exactly. I forgot
about—”
“Forgot, huh? Guess all those pirouettes make you kind of dizzy.”
She wanted to belt him. “I was trying to protect your son from a stranger who came rudely stomping unannounced into the middle of my ballet class. Normally when a parent needs to contact their child during class they simply go to the desk, and Lisa or someone else in charge will come to me.”
The self-important Mr. Byrne wasn’t even listening. He was gazing around at the dance academy’s humble waiting lobby that probably looked to him as if it were decorated by the Salvation Army. Which wasn’t far from the truth, since the worn green sofa and armchair came from her late grandmother’s cellar.
But Casey did not appreciate being treated like some irritating gnat. She gritted her teeth, fuming inside. “Mr. Byrne, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me barging into your office while you’re…”
Drew Byrne stepped so close her voice shrank to nothing. She could feel the heat coming off his diesel-cut frame. His warm skin smelled of soap and sandalwood and something incredibly male. He was at least a head taller than Casey, and when he looked down, a lock of sun-streaked sand-colored hair fell across his brow. “If you’re dressed like that, Ms. Richardson, it might be fun.”
Uh-oh. Maybe it was better being an overlooked gnat. She controlled the shiver in her body, but couldn’t stop the blush that flamed her cheeks. This was clearly a man who knew how to play a woman. “What I mean is next time you—”
“Won’t be a next time. Josh isn’t coming back.”
“What? Is his mother aware of this? She told me Josh loved his classes here. It’s good exercise for him. And he’s exceptionally talented.”
“I’m not often in the neighborhood to keep an eye on what’s going down with Josh, but there is no way I’ll let Heather or you turn my son into some prancing fruitcake.”
Good thing Josh came shuffling out of the dressing room or Casey might have indulged in the terribly unprofessional and bad-for-business move of giving a nasty piece of her mind to a student’s parent.
The boy tossed a shy half-smile at Casey. But Drew Byrne showed her his back. Without so much as a nod, he pushed open the door and led his son outside.
“How obnoxious,” Casey growled. But she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking to the side of the window and peering out.
It was a bright July morning and a gleaming white Escalade limo waited along the curb. The driver got out and held open the back door of the car. Josh hopped inside as if he knew the drill all too well. Drew Byrne gracefully folded his large frame into the back seat next to Josh and gestured to his driver.
As the car took off, Casey suddenly remembered she had a class full of students waiting for her. She rushed back into the studio, determined not to let this arrogant jerk ruin her day any more than the tsunami of bad news that came pouring out of the letter she’d received this morning. This academy was the only thing in her life that she’d ever done right. And she wasn’t about to see it go down the tubes.
©Alicia Street