Page 54 of Noel Secrets
He took her hand gently, sliding the ring onto her finger as though it had always belonged there. “Now it’s official,” he murmured, his gaze locked on hers. “And in a few minutes, we’ll make it forever.”
Her throat thickened. She glanced at the ring, then back at him. “Did you—did you turn in your article?”
Another grin tugged at his lips. “Wrote it on the flight back from Denver. Harold loved it.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Of course he did.”
“He especially loved the part about secret gifts. We never made it to San Francisco,” he said in a hushed voice, brushing his thumb along her knuckles. “But your mission of protecting Veronica in secret was an amazing gift.” His voice lowered, reverent. “She’ll never know how fiercely you fought for her.”
Jayda’s chest squeezed. “Guess that makes me a true Blair. A real fighter.”
“Always were.”
She swallowed hard, then managed a shaky smile. “I can’t wait to read your article in the morning. Even though I already know it’ll be fabulous.”
“I hope others like it as much as I loved writing it.” His grin turned rueful. “I think I managed to capture the Christmas spirit my editor wanted. Even if the tinsel and bells were swapped out for guns and whistles.”
A laugh bubbled out of her, and she covered her mouth. “Now, I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
“The joy of giving came through,” he added. His voice softened. “Especially the gift of forgiving.” His gaze searched hers, full of trust and love. “I’ve never felt so free, Jayda, as I do since you forgave me for my past mistakes.”
Her eyes stung. She opened her mouth, but before she could answer, Ginny’s voice rang up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Michael Blair! Get away from that door. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!”
Jayda bit back a laugh, pressing a hand to her lips.
Ed’s heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. A moment later, his voice joined his wife’s, dry but commanding. “Son, step aside. She’s not your wife until I give her away.”
Michael’s mouth quirked, but he straightened obediently. “Yes, sir.”
And then, because he could never leave well enough alone, he leaned in through the gap, cupped Jayda’s face, and kissed her until her knees weakened. It wasn’t a polite brush this time—it was a promise, one that curled her toes and sent her heart thundering.
“I love you, Michael,” Jayda whispered. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life getting into trouble with you.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll meet you under the mistletoe.” His breath fanned her lips. “And then no one will ever tear us apart again.”
“Promise?”
“Just let them try.”
Her smile trembled. Her entire body tingled. She was going to love being married to this man.
He slipped away down the hall, his steps light, his laughter echoing.
Ed appeared in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space. His eyes softened as they met hers. He offered his arm, formal and tender all at once. “Are you ready to become a Blair?”
Jayda’s pulse thrummed in her ears. She glanced back once at the room, the quilt, the window. The place that had once felt like borrowed space now felt wholly hers.
She stepped forward, velvet brushing her ankles, her chin lifting with newfound certainty.
Sliding her hand into Ed’s arm, she smiled, sure and unshakable. “I was born ready. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
Ed’s answering smile held both pride and forgiveness. Together, they turned toward the staircase, toward the glow of candlelight and the waiting vows, toward the family that had never stopped fighting for her.
And Jayda knew without a doubt that she was finally home.
