Page 29 of Stranded in A Small Town Christmas
“I’m falling in love with you, too. And I want us to be together, whatever that looks like.”
“When I say whatever it takes, I mean that. I’ll live here in Charming Lake with you and work remotely and…maybe we can open a restaurant.”
I laugh, pushing at his shoulder. “You can’t open a restaurant just so you don’t have to eat my mom’s baked macaroni and cheese or have cereal for breakfast anymore.”
“Actually, I can,” he says with a chuckle. “We can. Or we can hire a chef. Or subscribe to a food delivery service. We can do whatever makes us both happy.”
“Waking up with you on Christmas morning would make me happy.”
“Me, too.” He leans in and kisses me thoroughly. So thoroughly I’m breathless, half straddling his lap, and my hair is mussed by the time the kiss ends.
Then he grins. “My luggage is in the car. I brought my own underwear this time.”
Epilogue
Donovan
* * *
Four years later…
* * *
“I really need to get home for the Christmas parade,” I tell the man whose car has died and is blocking my SUV in, as well as multiple other cars trying to get out.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” the man says. “All of these other folks just thought a week before Christmas would be a good time to drive around in an airport parking garage, I guess.”
Okay, I probably deserve the attitude. And I remember Natalie calling me out for being a jerk in this same airport four years ago. I take a deep breath and lower my voice.
“I apologize. I know it’s a hectic time. It’s just that my wife is very pregnant and I promised her I’d be home today.”
“That poor kid’s going to get shafted on gifts,” the man says, shaking his head as he stares at his car.
I can’t believe I’m stuck in this airport again. At least this time I have my wallet and my phone. And the keys to my vehicle, even if I can’t get it out of its parking spot right now. I drive myself whenever I can these days, rather than using a car service, but I regret that decision at the moment.
All I can do is wait while three men stick their heads under the open hood and try to figure out what’s wrong with it. Throwing money at the car won’t help and I’ve forgotten everything my dad taught me about engines, so I sit in the SUV rather than hover and glare.
When I put my phone in the holder, the contact makes the screen light up with a photo of Natalie and Sam. My wife looks beautiful sitting on the porch of the Charming Inn with our three-year-old son hugging her baby bump. My heart aches with the need to hold them and I’m about to go down to the first level and start trying to buy somebody’s car when I hear an engine fire up.
The car isn’t running great, but it’s enough so it moves. I have to wait until the backup of waiting cars clears and then—finally—I’m on my way home.
They’ll all be at the inn, making popcorn for tomorrow’s Christmas fair, and completing the floats. My mom and Judy will be there, since they’re family now, too. I don’t stop at the house on the lake we bought and remodeled. I can’t wait that long.
As I drive through the town, I slow so I can take in the glow of lights and let the feeling of peace and festivity really sink in. We have the home in New York City, where Annette heads up the office, and in Florida and Colorado, but nothing beats the feeling of coming home to Charming Lake.
I’m not a billionaire anymore. After selling off the excess and dialing back to the core businesses, the companies are back to millions. But there’s more than enough of those to provide livelihoods for everybody who depends on it, and I’m one hundred percent happier. The therapy helps, too. I’ve never canceled my weekly virtual sessions, and I feel stronger. Healthier and balanced.
And whole, thanks to the love of the woman who steps out onto the porch when I turn up the Charming Inn’s long driveway.
Natalie looks radiant, and she laughs when I lift her into my arms. I kiss her, loving the feel of her round belly against me, and then set her gently on her feet.
“You made it,” she says, holding my face in her hands.
“I told you I would.” I had to wrap up a deal overseas and it couldn’t be done remotely. I’ve been gone almost ten days, and it felt like forever. I was going to put it off until after the holidays, but leaving Natalie with a newborn would have been even harder. “You shouldn’t be out here without a coat.”
“This baby’s like a furnace. I wanted the fresh air. And I wanted a chance to kiss you before Sam and the girls get hold of you. Justine is trying to teach the girls how to knit and—just so you know—the thing they’re going to wrap around your neck is a scarf. And Sam’s been helping Nana Jo make cookies.”
I wince, and she laughs. “Did Penny leave a secret stash before she went on vacation?”
