A Blazing Little Christmas(32)
“You look pretty beautiful yourself,” she said. “Especially right here…” She kissed his lips, a gesture she’d meant to be quick and light, but he hauled her tighter against him and gave her a kiss that made her head spin.
“Wow,” she said after he lifted his head. “Whoever said the romance fizzles out after you get married obviously knew diddly-squat. And speaking of romance…” She gently nudged his ribs and nodded toward the lounge area where Kelley and Marc sat at a table in the corner, heads close together, talking and laughing. “Can you believe how happy they look? I’ve never seen Marc look at any woman like that.”
Eric nodded. “Good. That’s how Kelley deserves to be looked at.”
“I’m glad she took our decision to get married today in stride. Marc, too.”
“I basically had the same talk with them that you had with your mom. I know she was disappointed not to have a fancy wedding to plan, but in the end she just wants us to be happy.”
She smiled. “Mission accomplished.”
“Agreed. My only regret is that we didn’t do this four months ago.”
“Actually, looking back, I think those four months were good for us. My mom finally understands I’m no longer a child and you and I are stronger together for surviving The Family Feud.”
“Can’t argue with that. Of course, we might have a front-row seat to Family Feud, Round Two, courtesy of Kelley and Marc.” He shot a meaningful glance toward the corner of the lounge area.
Jessica nodded. “I think you’re right. I spoke to Marc earlier about Kelley. He told me he felt like he’d been struck by lightning the first time he saw her.”
“He’s a goner.” Eric touched his lips to hers in a slow, soft kiss. “I know exactly how he feels.”
“Good to know.” She chuckled. “Can you imagine Kelley and my mom clashing over that wedding? Fun times ahead there.”
“Right. If by ‘fun’ you mean ‘migraine-inducing.’ But hey—that’s their problem. They’ll have to figure it out just like we did.”
“Amen to that. Although, by the time any actual wedding planning rolls around, Mom might have other things to occupy her time. Have you noticed the way Steve the bartender has been looking at her? And the way she’s been looking back?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s definitely a mutual admiration happening.”
Jessica smiled into his eyes and saw all the love and passion she’d ever dreamed of looking right back at her. “Looks like we have a candidate for our ‘get Mom a man’ campaign.”
“Sure does. Between her and Steve and Kelley and Marc, I’d say our work here is done. And that being the case, how about we say our goodbyes and get our honeymoon started?” He leaned down and nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear.
With a pleasure-filled sigh, Jessica tilted her neck to afford him better access. His teeth lightly grazed her earlobe, eliciting a barrage of tingles. “Are you trying to get me to say yes?”
“Absolutely. Is it working?”
She gave a happy laugh. “Absolutely.”
JOANNE ROCK
His For The Holidays
A Blazing Little Christmas Part 2
Chapter 1
Find moose-shaped form for holiday lights. Finish invitations. Hang Christmas cards in foyer. Test new cocktail recipes (ask Trish when she’s free so I don’t get toasted alone). On and on it went. Heather Dillinger’s preholiday party to-do list covered four single-spaced pages on her computer screen, her schedule of expectations and obligations as vast as her mother’s guest list. Not that her mother had asked for Heather’s help, but she certainly expected it the same way she’d assumed her Type A daughter would jump in and help every year since she’d turned—what, twelve years old?
The problem that came with a lot of competence—and perhaps taking a smidge of pride in the fact—was that Heather had snowballed into the family workhorse.
Which reminded her. She needed to find a recipe for a drink called a snowball. It would be pretty to serve a white concoction on a silver tray full of prism-like snowflakes—the closest she’d ever come to the real thing in Savannah, Georgia.
“Have you mentioned the party to Gary, dear?” Loralei Dillinger-Digby floated into Heather’s home office on a cloud of White Linen perfume, her arms full of the lemon-yellow tulle she insisted Heather use on her summer collection of household furnishings. Heather’s start-up fabric company, The Attic, was enjoying its second year in the black and her mother was working hard to put her creative stamp on that success, not realizing she influenced Heather’s designs without lifting a finger. Loralei Dillinger-Digby had that effect on people.