Page 33 of Christmas at Valentine Inn

“Can Drake make the Ron Swanson pictures disappear?”

Charlotte leaned away and pressed her lips together, trying not to bust out laughing. She started snorting for the amount of effort she put into stifling her laughter. “I’m sorry,” she snickered. “But you do make a cute Ron Swanson.”

I grabbed a throw pillow and smacked her with it. “For that, you’re booking me two vacations.”

“Should I make that a trip for two?” She wagged her brows.

“I don’t know. We’re just getting to know each other. Well, maybe. Guess who’s coming early now?”

Charlotte’s button nose wrinkled. “Mom?”

“And Dad. They figured since it’s my wedding, they don’t have to be covert.”

“Where are they going to stay?”

“With us, dear sister. You know, unless you want them staying in the honeymoon suite where you and Draketalkall the time.”

She shuddered at the thought. “No, thank you. I guess they can stay in our room, and you and I can slumber party for the next month out here on the hide-a-bed. You know, unless you and Patrick start talking.” She nudged me.

“He has kids, and we hardly know each other.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

“I think you do know each other, and that scares you.”

“Char, how is that even possible? We’ve spent twenty years apart.”

“Sometimes a lifetime can be lived in one day. Time has no bearing on how well we know someone. Think of the people who spend years married who hardly know the person they share a bed with.”

“Have you been readingReader’s Digestagain?” That was our inside joke when either one of us began spouting wisdom. Admittedly, Charlotte had a point.

“No.” She slyly grinned. “But I know what it’s like to spend years apart from the man I love only to pick right back up where we left off. Perhaps even knowing each other better than we had before.”

“You and Drake are different. You spent three years around each other. I spent three weeks with Patrick.”

“Izzy, I knew from the moment I met Drake that I would love him. My soul called to him just like yours calls to Patrick.”

I rested my head on her shoulder. For some reason that thought scared me. It had frightened me for the last twenty years. It seemed so unfathomable that something like that could happen to me. It’s why I never called him. It all seemed too good to be true. “Maybe,” I half-admitted, so wanting to believe. “But regardless of what happens between Patrick and me, I promise you will have the quiet wedding of your dreams.”

“You can have your dreams too, you know. How does the saying go? ‘Every great dream begins with a dreamer.’”

“I’ve never been much of a dreamer.” I was more of a realist and a believer that hard work was the only way to accomplish your goals.

“I know what you’re thinking. The hardest work you’ll ever do is making your dreams come true.”

“Now you really do sound like you’ve been readingReader’s Digest.”

She patted my head. “Regardless, it’s true.”

I sat up. “Well, maybe I should get to work.”

I SAT ON THE FLOORof the ballroom, carefully twisting lights around each branch. I hadn’t gotten very far, as every passerby stopped to congratulate me and stare at my upper lip. I had no doubt they were comparing me to Ron Swanson. I was never drinking chocolate milk in public again.

It was so weird to accept everyone’s well wishes. Part of me felt empowered, like I was conquering an evil lord, a.k.a. Dave, and standing for truth and right. The other part of me felt like such a liar. There was this emptiness to it, almost like I was stealing something. Getting married should be one of the happiest, most real moments of your life. There shouldn’t be anything fake about it. Maybe I felt so unsettled because I wondered if Jared would have ever married me had I not coerced him into it in some regard. Had my marriage been fake? And here I was wanting so badly to have something real with Patrick. Wasn’t that the reason we found ourselves in this situation—because I couldn’t believe what we had was real?

It was enough to make my head hurt. But I didn’t have time for that either. I was having dinner with Patrick and his kids. Bridgette and Rory should know the news by now. Patrick thought it best to explain the situation to them first before he formally introduced me to his kids as ... well ... I wasn’t sure what to call myself. Fake fiancée? I hated that. Like I said, I didn’t want anything fake when it came to Patrick, or anyone for that matter.

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