Page 46 of My Ex for Christmas
I expect to find at least a handful of regulars sitting around the tables and over playing pool, but the place is surprisingly empty.Tooempty.
I turn to Sam, but somehow, she has managed to disappear.
What the hell?
I walk farther into the room, looking for one of the employees. Luce would be my best bet. She’s as no-nonsense as the day I met her—she’ll tell me what’s going on.
“Hello?” I call.
No response.
“Sam, whatever this is, it’s not funny.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I let out a small grumble. Thelonger I stand here, the more concerned I get. This place is never empty. Even if it’s not busy, there’s always someone posted at the bar with a beer.
I spin around, looking for signs of…something. When I don’t find anything, I turn back to face the bar, and then I see him. Brooks comes out from the back room, and I freeze.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I thought you weren’t working today.”
At home this morning, he said something about going to his mom’s to fix her kitchen sink. But he obviously didn’t go to Pineridge if he’s here right now.
“About that…” he says. “I may have told a small lie.”
He rounds the bar, coming to stand in front of me. I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels different about him. Maybe it’s the new shirt he’s wearing. While it isn’t odd for a man to wear a nice button-up, itisodd for my man. He almost exclusively wears flannels and Henleys.
I arch a brow at him. “Are you going to tell me what’s happening right now? Sam drove me here and then abandoned me.”
He gives me a smile as he holds out a hand. “Come with me.”
Skeptically, I set my palm in his, letting him tug me along. I trust him wholeheartedly, but as could probably be expected from my personality, I’m not a huge fan of surprises.
He pulls me through the arched doorway and into the side room. This is where the pool tables are set up. Today, though, it looks a lot different.
Mistletoe. There isso much mistletoe.
It’s hanging from the ceiling and decorating the walls. It looks like Santa threw up in here. It’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but it leaves me even more confused.
“Where did you get all this?” I ask. Maybe not the most important question at the moment, but I have to know. I reach out and touch one of the bundles wrapped with a red bow. “Is thisreal?”
“It’s real. I had a little help from the florist. She loves me.”
I shake my head as I continue my perusal of the room. “I’m not sure how. You always make her job harder than it needs to be.”
Over the past couple years, Brooks has purchased a lot of flower bouquets for me. But he often requests blooms that are expensive and hard to find, and poor Martha has to run around trying to meet his expectations.
It’s her own fault, really. After she helped him with the poinsettia two Christmases ago, she was doomed.
“This is very pretty, baby, but why is the bar covered in mistletoe?” I ask.
I turn to Brooks for his explanation, but I stop short. Because he’s not standing in front of me anymore. Instead, he’s down on one knee.
Oh my God.
My lips part as words try to escape, but nothing comes out.
“Hadley,” he begins. “From the moment you showed up in this bar, I knew I couldn't let you go again. You have always fit in my life like you were destined to be there, and I truly believe you were. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much.” He opens a ring box I hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”
My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest and gift itself to the man on his knee before me. Sixteen-year-old Hadley had been convinced we’d end up here. Twelve years later, I can tell her she was right.
