“Not literally,” Frost warned.
“I know. There’s already enough magic tearing through this town–we don’t need to add mine to the storm.” Layla replied.
Layla swiped a warm cloth that smelled of aloe over Lauren’s face, removing whatever makeup she had left. It was possible that she’d cried some of it off after Jacob left, though she wouldn’t tell anyone else that.
“Tell me about Jacob,” Frost asked.
Layla snorted. “He’s stubborn. Has no idea how to be romantic.” Her lip trembled. “And the best friend I’ve ever had.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Since these women were clearly Santa’s elves, there was no point in holding back. “He tossed a ring box at me this morning and said we had to get married–or else.”
Frost gasped. “Men!”
Layla slathered something cold on Lauren’s face. “That has to sit. I’m moving to hair.” She took Lauren’s messy bun out, sprayed dry shampoo at the roots, and started a scalp massage.
Lauren melted into the chair. It felt so good.
“I mean,” Frost hedged. “Even if Christmas was going to implode, we still want to be wooed.”
“Right!” Lauren punctuated her agreement with a nod.
“And, you know, if they’re stressed because they feel the responsibility of ruining Christmas for the whole entire world, that’s no excuse for rushing things,” Layla added.
“Agreed.” Lauren shifted in her seat. She hadn’t thought about Jacob being stressed or that there were bigger things going on with Christmas than being stuck.
“I mean, what do they expect us to do? Save Christmas with them, jump into their sleigh and ride off into the sunset at the drop of a hat?” Frost’s tone had softened considerably.
Lauren blew out her lips. “Okay. When you put it like that…”
Layla moved back to her face and began massaging the cream into Lauren’s skin. “I’d love to ride off in a guy’s sleigh. Do you know how hard it is to find a man who cares about Christmas the way I do?”
Lauren scowled at the thought of this stunning creature anywhere near Jacob.
“Don’t do that. You’ll create wrinkles.” Layla smoothed out the line between Lauren’s eyebrows.
Lauren sat still as she was brushed, dabbed, and swiped. Frost hummed a Christmas tune while they worked together to get her ready for the big reveal.
“I guess the real question is…” Layla stood back, and Lauren opened her eyes to see the two of them beaming at her.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Is do you want to spend every Christmas–until death do you part–with Jacob? Because if you do, the rest of it all doesn’t matter, does it?” Layla put her brushes away and began tossing items into her impossibly small purse. “His tossing the ring box at you becomes a funny story to tell the grandkids—one where he kisses your cheek at the end and says something like: Can you believe she said yes? And you share a look filled with a lifetime of love because–of course, you’d say yes.”
Tears stung Lauren’s eyes, and she started fanning them. “I love him so much, and I want to know he loves me that much, too.”
Frost patted her hand as she brought her to her feet. “Sugar, that man is so in love with you, his Christmas wish has warped time itself.”
Lauren laughed over the lump in her throat. “He said that was my fault.” She stripped down to her underwear so she could get into the stunning gown.
Frost held out the dress while looking at the wall to give her some privacy, and Lauren stepped into it.
“You know what they say.” Frost did up the zipper in the back. “It takes two to tango.”
She stepped out of the way of the mirror, and Lauren got her first look at herself. She touched her hair, which was pulled back into an elegant princess-style knot. Tendrils brushed her cheekbones–which looked regal because of the excellent makeup job Layla had done. Her eyes were larger than life and luminous.
There was a tap at the door. “Your sleigh is waiting,” Ethan called through the door.
Lauren grabbed Frost’s arm. “My sleigh?”
Frost giggled. “Merry Christmas, Lauren. May it be memorable.”
