Kissmas Wishes (Love In All Seasons 3)

She looks at me like I’m an idiot, and maybe I am. “Doesn’t everyone want that?”

“I’ve been single a long time,” I tell her. “Before I came to Linesworth this Christmas, I didn’t really think of myself as a settling down type.”

“And now?” she asks, her voice quiet.

I step toward Noelle, grateful my parents are occupied with Scout. “Now I wonder if I’ve been single all this time because I was waiting for the right person.”

I lean in, close enough to kiss her, and hell, I want to. So damn badly.

But before I can press my lips to hers, Scout has bounded over, a ball of energy. “Come help, Noelle. Come help with the ornaments.”

Noelle’s eyes meet mine and I know that she wouldn’t have pulled away from the kiss. She would have given in. To me.

She wants this too.

A chance at love, at an unexpected forever.

Mom calls me into the kitchen and when I enter, I know she knows there is something going on between Noelle and me. “So, is she who you were with last night?”

I nod. “Yeah, she’s planning the wedding, you know that.”

Mom waves her hand in the air. “I know, but after that, you two went to dinner, just you and her?”

I nod. “What are you getting at?”

She smiles, grabbing bowls and spoons for the chili. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how she is so much sweeter when she’s not talking about that darn wedding. And Scout adores her.”

“They’ve met twice.”

“Sometimes once is enough.”

I swallow. “You mean that? You think love can sweep into your life in an instant?

“They call it love at first sight for a reason, Brooks.” Mom pats my shoulder, then walks into the living calling everyone in to eat.

My heart pounds as I think about what she said. Love at first sight? I never thought it was real.

But this attraction to Noelle, this instant chemistry — it can’t be bought, can’t be forced. It’s either here or it isn’t.

Scout has her hand in Noelle’s guiding her to the table. They sit down next to my father who hobbles in on his crutches, talking about Santa’s naughty and nice lists, about presents Scout hopes to find under the tree.

I’ve never been in love before.

At least, I hadn’t thought so.

But as I grab my bowl of chili and sit down next to her, I realize what I want is right here, right beside me.

“What?” she asks when she catches me staring at her.

“Will you go out with me tonight?” I ask.

She twists her lips. “Sorry. I wish I could but it’s the bachelorette party.”

I nod in understanding — but wishing like hell I could spend another night with her.

I have a feeling if I did, I might just never let go.NoelleAfter dinner and dessert — earlier today I had snagged a box of Christmas cookies from my kitchen while Brooks brought in my little tree —Brooks walks me to my car. Snow is falling, creating a wonderland around us. It’s only a few days until Christmas and there is something in the air.

It’s undeniable.

“My parents love you,” he tells me.

I smile. “Well, they did kinda give me the third degree. What was that about?”

They had asked all sorts of questions over the chili.

How long have you lived here? My whole life.

Where do you work? At the bakery with no plans on leaving.

Do you like children? If they are as adorable as Scout is, sure.

That last one got giggles from Brook’s ringleted four-year-old daughter.

“They were only curious because… well, you know.”

I shake my head. “No, why?”

Brooks lowers his face, our eyes meeting. There is a streetlamp on, casting a perfect glow over us. “Because they realize I have a crush on you.”

I swallow, scared of getting what I want. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

He cups my face with both his hands. “What would you call it?”

“Something about Christmas wishes. About miracles. About—”

He cuts me off with a kiss. A real, deep kiss. The kind of kiss that makes me swoon, weak in the knees. A kiss filled with visions of a white wedding dress trimmed in fur and a flower girl wearing a red cape. A little specific, sure, but I’ve had weddings on my mind for weeks and when Brooks’ mouth opens, when his tongue finds mine— I’m a snowflake that’s melted. I’m a snowman who has seen better days.

In his arms, I’m the best possible puddle.

“Oh, Brooks,” I say, panting as the kiss ends. I press the back of my hand to my mouth, the heat from his lips searing my skin.

“God, I like kissing you,” he says.

It’s simple and so true and it makes us laugh — the insanity of to all. Us. This. Now.

My phone begins to buzz, and my eyes widen when I see I’ve missed six calls and dozens of texts. I haven’t looked at my phone in hours.