Mistletoe Kisses

“Oh, Cal, they’re gorgeous,” I tell him, scooting closer to the edge of the couch so I can lean in and smell them. They smell magnificent, too. Flashing him the biggest smile, I throw my arms around him and give him a hug. “Thank you.”

“There’s a card,” he adds, pointing to the bouquet.

“Oh, I missed it.”

“I think it’s on the other side,” he says.

I frown, scooting off the couch and crawling to the coffee table, pulling the vase closer. It takes a little digging, but I finally find the card, and I smile when I read the inscription:

For my favorite elf.

Love,

Scrooge

My grin widens, and I turn back to respond, but when I do, I freeze.

Cal is still sitting on the edge of the sofa, but now he’s holding out a small red jewelry box.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, sitting back on my legs.

His lips curve up faintly, and he pops open the box. “Noelle…”

“Yes.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I meant, I meant you didn’t have to—oh my god, yes,” I say, crawling to him and grabbing the box out of his hand so I can get a closer look.

The ring he picked out for me is gorgeous and unique, an ice blue sapphire with a hexagonal halo, set in rose gold and almost resembling a snowflake. Unconsciously, I lift a hand to cover my mouth, shaking my head in absolute awe.

“Cal, this is perfect. It’s so beautiful. I love it.”

His voice is warm with pleasure. “I’m glad.”

I swallow past a sudden lump in my throat, plucking the delicate ring from its velvet bed and sliding it onto my finger.

Looking up at him, I say, “I love it so much and I’m so happy…”

“But?”

“How will we explain it to people?” I ask, hoping I don’t dull his enthusiasm. “I definitely want to marry you, I’m all in on this plan, it’s just—”

He cuts me off, taking my hand and pulling me back up onto the couch beside him. “The same way we got our head start. We’ll keep it quiet for a little while. Tell people in a few months when it won’t be as surprising.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I can’t help smiling. “A secret engagement?”

His blue-gray eyes sparkle with mischief. “Perfect for us, don’t you think?”

I picture it all as I sit here with him: this time next year, back in Marymount for our annual tradition, but this time when the horse-drawn sleigh pulls up to the inn, I’m in a long white dress, Callan dashing in a black tux. Snow clings to his dark hair, pleasure dances in his eyes at the sight of me, and my heart couldn’t be fuller.

He’ll grab me around the waist and help me down. He’ll slide me down his body and get me hot. Then, he’ll escort me inside the Marymount Inn, where we’ll spend our very first night together as husband and wife.

Smiling at the plans he doesn’t know we have yet, I take his hand, answering his question and practicing for next year at the same time.

“I do.”

THE END