Kiss Me Now: A Romantic Comedy

by Melanie Jacobson

  “Deeply. It’s kind of a problem.”

  My stomach flipped again. “Not if I’ve fallen for you too.”

  He rested his forehead against mine. “You have?”

  “Deeply.” I rested my hands against his chest and reveled in how solid and warm he felt against my palms which itched with a new symptom: a need to explore him more.

  He took a deep breath. “Just so we’re clear, I’m saying I love you, Brooke Spencer.”

  “And just so I’m clear, Ian Greene, I’m saying I love you back. So what do we do now?” I asked.

  “Kiss her again!” Miss Lily shouted, and we looked over to find her and Mary, standing on my side of the garden, holding on to each other and grinning like fools.

  “When she’s right, she’s right,” Ian said. And then he kissed me again, and I discovered a new symptom: Ian’s kisses made me forget about everything but him.

  Epilogue

  Grace Winters stepped back to stare up at the bower she’d built. It was sturdy, but more importantly, it would be high enough for the groom who’d be standing under it tomorrow. Ian Greene was a tall man, but he’d have plenty of clearance.

  She gave the frame another hard shake, but it held steady. Good. She’d done good work.

  When she retreated down the grassy aisle flanked on either side by white chairs and studied it again from a distance, she was even more satisfied. Lily Greene had worked with the florist in town to use as many flowers from her own grounds as possible to fill in the arbor her grandson would be wed beneath.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Grace said out loud.

  “Agreed,” said a voice behind her. “And I love it. Thank you for building it for me. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Grace spun, not realizing Brooke had joined her. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the rehearsal dinner?”

  Brooke smiled and slipped her hands into the pockets of her pink joggers. “It’ll take me ten minutes to get ready. I wanted to come out here while it was quiet. I’m afraid I won’t notice the details once the wedding starts. You look great, by the way.”

  Grace glanced down at her dress, a light and pretty confection of gauzy blue fabric that draped gently from spaghetti straps to skim just above her knees. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. I feel almost bad for feeling so pretty in it. I don’t want to outshine the bride.”

  Brooke laughed and came to stand beside her and study the arbor. “You’re welcome. But I think we’re both going to be outshone by Gran’s flowers.”

  “She did a great job, but you’re already gorgeous. And your gown is to die for. Ian won’t even realize he’s standing beneath a thousand flowers when he’s looking at you.”

  Brooke slipped an arm around Grace’s waist and gave her a side hug. “I’m so glad we’re friends. It’s been a wild year. You’ve kept me sane. And, you know, made my house livable.”

  “Is your mom still nervous about the short engagement?”

  Brooke shrugged, not a single doubt on her face. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’ve known Ian almost a year, but it didn’t even take me a month to realize he’s the one for me. She’s had five months to get used to the idea of engagement. I think she’s more annoyed that we aren’t doing the wedding in McClean so she can invite all her country club friends.”

  “Sometimes it sounds like a completely different world when you talk about life before you came to Creekville,” Grace said. “And it’s almost like our lives are inverses of each other. You running away to a small town, me wanting to get out of it.”

  “Well, for selfish reasons, I’m glad you’ve been here. It’s been kind of a long time since I’ve had a best friend. But if you ever decide you’re really done here, I’ll help you pack to leave.”

  Grace threw her arm around Brooke to give her a full hug. “I know you would. That’s why I love you.”

  They’d been friendly enough when Brooke first came to town, even gone out for girls’ night a couple of times, but it wasn’t until Brooke roped her into helping her remodel an upstairs bathroom that they’d really become friends. In fact, when Brooke had tried to pay her, Grace wouldn’t accept it, so Brooke had overpaid for all her materials to keep it even. They’d spent four weeks in a row working on the remodel on weeknights when Ian was in DC, laughing and drinking more coffee than any human should in a single day.

  Grace had loved having a front row seat to watching Brooke’s relationship with Ian unfold. These two were couple goals.

  Well, they were the goal if she intended to stay in Creekville, which she didn’t. Not forever. But for as long as her mom needed her, she’d be here. She just wouldn’t make the mistake of forming the kind of attachments with anyone else that might keep her here.

  “Brooke?” It was Ian’s voice, and it sounded like he was calling from the direction of Miss Lily’s back patio.

  Grace smiled as Lily’s face lit up. “You two just do not get sick of each other, do you?”

  “Nope,” Brooke agreed. “And I want to soak in every single minute because I’m going to be a work widow soon. For five months. Quantico.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “FBI training?”

  Brooke nodded, grinning. “Ian found out yesterday that he was accepted.”

  “That’s amazing! I’ll try not to think about what that means for you leaving me.”

  “You aren’t planning to stay anyway,” Brooke reminded her.

  “True enough.”

  Ian called for Brooke again. “Brooke Spencer soon-to-be Greene?”

  Brooke turned toward his voice and smiled. “Sounds like it’s time to get this rehearsal going. You ready?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Brooke nodded and hurried off toward the sound of Ian’s voice, calling back that she was coming.

  And Grace stood in the bridal garden by herself for one last moment, once again admiring the arbor, without the faintest clue that everything in her own life was about to change.

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  Acknowledgments

  I really don’t know how I ever wrote books before I found my writing group. Teri Bailey Black, Aubrey Hartman, Brittany Larsen, Tiffany Odekirk, and Jen White make all my books better. Daily writing sprints over Zoom with Clarissa Kae and Esther Hatch have kept me going on days I didn’t feel like working. And Jenny Proctor’s constant cheerleading and super fast beta read convinced me that this was a book worth sharing with everyone. I owe thanks for this and several books to Cindy Ray and Camille Maynard for their proofreading and editing skills. I’m thankful to Emily Poole for her gardening consultations. Mistakes are definitely all my own. It’s been a lifetime since I spent time in my father’s garden. Many thanks to Bryan Eisenbise for helping me plot a fictional crime. Thank you to Shawn Larsen for the law bits that I ended up not using. And thank you to anyone who answered questions about Virginia government, Washington traffic, home renovations, or the million other little questions I had as I worked through this story.

  About the Author

  Melanie Bennett Jacobson is an avid reader, amateur cook, and champion shopper. She grew up in Louisiana but now lives in Southern California with her husband, children, and a naughty miniature schnauzer. She subs high school English for fun when she’s not writing. Melanie holds an MFA in Writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. To find other books by Melanie Jacobson or to get a free book from her, no newsletter signup required, please visit her website at www.melaniejacobson.net.

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