Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
I chuckle at her words, pressing kisses everywhere I can. “Fuck, Peyton, I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen. There’s never been another woman for me. You’ve always been it. The love of my life.”
“And you’re the love of mine,” she sniffs.
Her words heal ten years of pain, ten years of waiting and hoping she felt the same way. Ten years of being in love with my best friend.
I smile at her. “Want to get out of here? My parents have the table situation under control.”
She swipes at her face and nods. “We need to practice our baby making skills.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I tell her as I scoop her into my arms. She’s my woman, the one I’ll love for the rest of my life. I’ll give her a dozen babies if that’s what she wants. Anything to make my sweet Peyton happy because she’s my whole world.
EPILOGUE
“This is truly hideous,” I say as I survey my appearance in front of the mirror. I’m wearing an ugly Christmas sweater today. It features a busty snowwoman with felt boobs that are 3D. It couldn’t be uglier.
“Ten out of ten would burn it in a garbage bin,” Cassie agrees with a solemn nod.
“I’d throw it in the ocean,” Chloe giggles as she rocks Abby in her arms.
“I know,” I sigh happily and finger the 3D bridal veil the snowwoman is wearing. “It’s perfect!”
Today is Christmas Eve and I’m marrying Ledger in a quiet ceremony with just our family present. Earlier today, Cassie and Chloe both tied the knot with their husbands. Now it’s finally my turn.
For our wedding, I wanted to do something outlandish, so we decided on an ugly Christmas sweater theme and everyone in attendance is wearing one. I specially made mine, delighted with the way it’s come together. Even our cake is shaped like an ugly sweater.
“You look beautiful,” Mrs. Kringle tells me, and I know she means it. When I first mentioned the idea of the sweater theme, I was afraid she’d tell me I was being silly or ridiculous. But she and Mr. Kringle loved it. They’ve always been so supportive of me, and I’m finally in a place where I’m able to let them in.
There’s a knock on the door then Ledger is easing into the room. Or at least he tries to. The girls let loose with a squeal and attempt to shove the door closed before he can make it in. Chloe and Cassie announce at the same time, “It’s bad luck!”
Ledger doesn’t let that keep him from me. “I’m marrying the world’s most beautiful woman on the most beautiful day of the year. My luck is perfect.”
I see it on their faces, the way both of them melt at the same time that tears sting my eyes. I’ve been crying a lot lately. I’m just so happy since Ledger told me he’s in love with me.
“Let him in,” I gesture toward my bridesmaids.
Honey yips her agreement, happy to be near Ledger.
“We’ll just go check on the cake,” Cassie says while Chloe and Mrs. Kringle follow her out the door.
Ledger chuckles when he sees my sweater. He’s also wearing an ugly sweater that I made for him. It’s a smiling snowman with a tuxedo jacket over his little stick arms. Totally normal until you look at the bottom of the sweater where the carrot is placed in a very prominent position. He laughed so hard when he saw it.
“I got you a gift for our wedding day.”
“But I didn’t get you anything,” I protest. I mean, I have Christmas gifts for him at his house. Well, our house now. After we drove home from Sweetgrass River, we spent hours and hours making love. Then he demanded that I move in with him.
I tried to talk to him like a reasonable person and insist it was already late at night. But he called his family and within two hours, my entire apartment was sitting in his living room. He looked pretty pleased with himself for pulling off that feat.
Now I’ve settled in and I’m making changes to the place that make it feel like ours. Ledger doesn’t care what I do with the house. As long as we’re living together, I could paint every room magenta and he wouldn’t utter a complaint.
“What do you call what we did last night?” He asks with a frown.
My cheeks heat even as my panties grow damp at the memories. That thing he wanted to try was unexpected but so damn good. “I don’t think we can talk about that in a chapel.”
His voice is deep and husky when he asks with a twinkle in his eye, “Does that mean you don’t want to do it again?”
I know what will happen if we go down this road. I’ll end up with my legs thrown over his shoulder as he eats me out and I scream through an orgasm or three. His family will overhear, and we’ll be late to our own wedding. To distract him, I say, “Well, tell me what you got me.”