“Like how gorgeous and in love you two looked on the red carpet last night?”
“Pass.”
“The decorating at your Gran’s—”
“Next!”
“How about the fact that he bought your one million outside Christmas lights through our general store instead of ordering online so that he could give that revenue to the town?”
My eyes finally snap to hers. “He what?”
“He’s here!” Someone shouts before a chorus of voices rings out.
“We’re saved!”
“Praise the Lord.”
“It’s a Christmas miracle!”
I deadpan back at that last one, “It was literally planned in advance and there was no danger of him not coming.”
“Still,” Miles says, surprising me, “It makes a difference if you two are here.”
“Well then, jolly good luck that there wasn’t any weather today. Happy Christmas, all!” My very British husband greets everyone on his way to me.
“Merry,” I correct but I can’t roll my eyes because they’re locked on him, stalking toward me like I’m an oasis in the desert. He’s been gone 48 hours. “It’sMerryChristmas.”
“Is it?” He murmurs as he grabs my face and before I can answer he’s kissing me like he never has before. I hum happily into his mouth and then register hooting and throat clearing and cameras clicking. He pulls away too soon and kisses my forehead before asking the onlookers, “So. Who’s ready to break a world record?”
Everyone cheers.
“Technically we’re making up a record. Believe it or not, no one has set out to chop down three hundred and fifty Christmas trees at once.”
“Three hundred and fifty one!” My exuberant husband yells.
I roll my eyes, “You were in the original headcount.”
“I know, my darling Ebenezer, I know, just trying to rally the troops here.”
That, he does. He smiles and waves and makes a show of putting on his work gloves. He winks at the cameras and everyone eats out of the palm of his very charming hand.
Assistant Mayor Chappell starts shouting instructions into a megaphone and I observe the gorgeous man beside me as he steps over to his tree. We each have to saw down our own in order to make this ridiculous idea work. Each evergreen is smallandsomeonenot-so-mysteriously donated three hundred brand new reciprocating saws.
A horn blares and everyone starts sawing. Ben bends over and I admire the view.
“Pst!” Harper gets my attention on my other side. “Just think. All that, but with the French princess beside him.”
“Please, she’s not out here sawing trees.”
“If that man is out sawing trees, the princess is going to be out sawing trees too, but,” she shrugs,“Je ne sais pas.”I don’t know.I snort as Harp shrugs after butchering the one phrase we remember from high school French class.
But I know.
She’s right.
Ben is like a magnet. He doesn’t even try. It can’t be helped. He’s the sun or gravity or fresh brewed coffee first thing in the morning. Where he goes she will go. The future love of his life.
“Janelle?” Ben stands and checks on me and finds me staring at him. “What’s it, my darling? You look green.”
