His grin is so wide, so happy, as he does as he’s told, sliding the ring in place.
‘If it doesn’t fit I can—’
‘It’s perfect!’
I give my finger a little wiggle, watching the diamond catch the light in the porch, and then I start to sob and laugh all at once. I drop to my knees, flinging my hands around his neck, and kiss him hard, every ounce of excitement, happiness and love poured into it.
He breaks away first. His skin is delightfully flushed, his eyes bright.
‘Merry Christmas, wife-to-be.’
Evangeline. Wife-to-be. The words work the same magic and my heart flutters and swells with sheer joy.
‘Merry Christmas, Lucas.’
EPILOGUE
Christmas Day, one year later
‘MUM, WILL YOU stop flapping? Dinner is going to be great.’
‘But she’s a chef—a celebrity chef—what if it’s awful?’
I laugh. I can’t help it. Ever since Nate brought home his new girlfriend, Florence, six months ago, Mum has gone into panic mode, not wanting to scare the woman off.
Not that I blame her. Florence has been great for Nate. He’d come a long way since he and Lucas cleared the air, and then he met Florence and the transformation was complete.
Mum looks at me as if she’s going to tape my mouth shut. ‘Really? You think laughter is going to help right now?’
I take pity and give her a quick squeeze. ‘Mum, how many Christmas dinners have you cooked?’
‘Too many to count.’
‘And how many have gone wrong?’
She frowns. ‘Too many to count.’
Okay, bad choice.
‘Sorry to disturb the private party.’
Lucas appears in the kitchen doorway—my incredibly handsome saviour.
‘But your dad’s breaking out the champagne and itching to do a toast.’
He looks at me pointedly and a small smile lifts my lips as we share a silent exchange.
‘Come on, Mum. Champagne will make everything better.’
We coax her into the living room just as Dad pops the cork and begins to pour.
I take in the entire scene. Everyone is happy, content—eve
n Frodo is asleep in front of the fire—and I know it’s about to get better. Inside my heart swells and Lucas wraps his arm around me as Dad starts to fill the last flute.
‘Just a small one for me, Dad.’
He stops pouring and they all look at me, concern flaring. My smile grows. I look up at Lucas, search his deep brown gaze and share my elation with him.