Christmas Romance (The Best Christmas Romance of 2016): The Love List Christmas (3 page)

  It started off as an ordinary visit, and then a surprise fix-up with the daughter of a friend of a friend. It soon became painfully apparent that his former in-laws had chosen a suitable new wife for him. The day progressed into an uncomfortable, unhappy holiday for all involved. After a somewhat unpleasant exchange of words after the prospective new wife left, Sean prepared to leave, when his former mother-in-law developed sudden chest pains and begged him to accompany her to the hospital. An emergency room visit lasted six hours, and culminated with his mother-in-law receiving a complete clean bill of health.

  Now, as he stood at the doorstep of the home of Maisey Gates, he continued to search his mind as he had done all morning, for the words to explain his no-show at her house the evening before without even a phone call of explanation.

  The look on her face when she opened the door spoke volumes. “What do you want?” she demanded.

  “Can I come in and explain? Then if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

  “Listen Sean, let me make this simple for you. You stand me up once, you don’t get a second chance. I didn’t even merit a phone call.”

  Heʼd expected this reaction from her. Before he could try one more time to explain, there was a flurry of movement behind her. Obviously, there would be no Christmas tree shopping and decorating today.

  “I don’t have time for this, Sean. When you didn’t show up last night, I figured today was off as well. The Elegant Bride Direct blog called to ask if they could do the interview and photo shoot today, and I agreed. They want me to put on the dress, and they have hair and makeup people here. I need the exposure for my business, more than I need weak excuses from you. I expected more from a police officer.”

 
Now, that stung.

  Before he could say anything, a woman came up behind Maisey and rested her hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, doll, I don’t want to rush you, but we’re on a tight schedule, and by tight schedule, I mean we are all anxious to do a little Black Friday shopping followed by some much deserved cocktails,” she said with a giggle in her voice.

  “I’ll be right there, Blythe.”

  “Maisey, can I call you back later?” he whispered.

  Suddenly, the woman popped her head back over Maisey’s shoulder.  “Sorry again, doll. You.” She looked directly at him. “You.”

  “Me?” he asked.

  “What are you, like a thirty-four long? Please say you’re a thirty-four long.”

  It took a minute to process what she was asking. Oh, his trouser size. “Close enough,” he said, unable to fathom a plausible reason why she needed his measurements.

  Blythe turned Maisey toward her. “You know this guy, right?”

  “No, he’s just some random psycho off the street.” She lied with such ease, he actually blushed. “Yes, I know him,” she finally admitted. “He’s just leaving.”

  Blythe dissolved into laughter. “You are a little monster, Maisey, I like that!”

  Maisey didn’t look at all amused by Blythe’s little comment, or the fact he was still standing in her doorway.

  “But seriously,” Blythe began. “If you can fit the wardrobe, I would love to have you in the photos with Maisey. You know, a little bride and groom action. You just have to look in love. Our readers like to see a couple in action versus just the bride.”

 
Don’t.
Maisey mouthed the word to him just as a group of people carrying Christmas trees, decorations, tables, and boxes of all sizes, wandered up the driveway.

  Blythe clapped her hands. “Let’s go! Chop! Chop! Upstairs and set up. We’re on a very tight schedule.” She turned back to him. “So…?”

  He didn’t want to play groom in a bunch of happy-happy photos that would be blasted out to who knew how many people around the world. At least his friends and work associates didn’t read wedding blogs. Not that he knew of.  If it helped Maisey’s business and eased some of his guilt and her anger, he was willing to put on the show. Afterward, they could walk away from each other. He would be sorry for it all to end, as he was just getting to know Maisey, and what he did know he was already crazy about. “I’ll do it.
If
Maisey agrees.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said with a sigh that rattled her entire body.

  He dared to reach out and touch her cheek. “I want to do it. So let me.”

  They whisked Maisey away to another part of the house, while a winter wonderland was set up in her work room which was in actuality, the attic. He waited patiently until a woman handed him a suit, tie, shirt, and shoes.

  “You can change downstairs,” she informed him.

  He took a quick look at the shoes, as shoes were often the bane of his existence. Well, not really the shoes, they just tended to aggravate the situation. “These won’t fit. Too small,” he told her.

  She looked down at his sneakered feet. “Well, those won’t do. Can’t you just squeeze your feet into them for a half hour or so?”

  He let out an unpleasant chuckle. “No, it doesn’t work like that.” He reached down and lifted the material of his jeans on his left leg. The woman’s eyes widened as she stared for a few seconds before regaining her composure. “No problem. We won’t shoot your feet.” Her exit from the room was so fast she nearly tripped on her own feet on the way out.

  In the second floor powder room, he shed his own clothing and dressed. Not too bad, he thought as he adjusted the cuffs of the crisp white dress shirt in front of the mirror, and slipped on the suit jacket. For a brief moment, he was taken back to his own wedding and the excitement of the day. It was nice. Nice to finally be marrying the woman he thought he’d be with for more than just a few years—though he disliked that he had no say in the wedding. Lisa and her parents made all the decisions, and heʼd been fine with that—more or less. He didn’t care for the fact that none of his family or friends were asked to participate in the ceremony, and he’d heard whispers from friends of family members that they were hurt by the exclusion. So to keep the tenuous peace between his wife and his family, he said nothing. In the end, the wedding was nice.

  He shook off the intrusive thoughts. It wasn’t like he was marrying Maisey today. Not that he was against a second marriage. He already went through all of the stages of grief after losing Lisa, and nearly losing his own life. When he thought of Lisa, there was the pain of her loss from his life, but the soul-destroying grief had softened, and with that came acceptance, and the hope of finding new love. Something up until today, he thought he might have found with Maisey.

  Heʼd been told to go back to the third floor of the house, a large, open room with a peaked roof. Now it had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Christmas trees with colorful bobbles and lights, blankets of fake snow, and lights strung up to give the appearance of an outdoor wedding. There was a festively decorated table with a realistic three-tier wedding cake, which upon closer inspection, was actually Styrofoam. Cut crystal glasses bubbled with champagne, and flowers, flowers, flowers everywhere.

  As he surveyed the scene, a clipboard was presented beneath his nose. He turned to find Blythe. “Before we can shoot, I need you to sign these standard releases,” she said, practically pushing a pen into his hand.

  He drew his brows together. “What for?”

  “So that Elegant Bride Direct can use the photos. If you don’t sign, we can’t use your photos.”

  This was getting serious. Heʼd thought it was just a little photo shoot for some wedding blog that brides-to-be fawned over. Now he was being given release forms?

     Blythe tapped her toes and he scanned the release.
Use of his likeness, blah, blah, more blah, advertising purposes, blah...blah...
It went on and on. It was something a lawyer probably should look over.

  “Listen Sean...that is your name, right?” She didn’t wait for his reply. “We are really cutting it close with time. I really love Maisey’s stuff, and I’m making an exception to get her onto our blog for the holidays. If you don’t want to sign, let me know now so I can yet again change things up.” The impatience in her voice was clear.

  He scrawled his signature and handed the clipboard and pen to Blythe. Who could it hurt?

No one. It was his life. If some soon-to-be bride wanted to look at photos of him standing in the middle of a fake Christmas wedding, then have at it. He was really doing this for Maisey.

  “Very good,” Blythe said. “Now, why don’t you go see your Christmas bride. I think she’s just about ready.”

  He didn’t know about Maisey being
his
Christmas bride. Then he saw her and nothing seemed to matter anymore. Old dredged up memories, legal waivers. All gone. She was the perfect Christmas bride. Absolutely, and without a doubt. He could do nothing more than stare. Her dress was the purest white silk, contrasting with the blackness of her hair that was combed into a crown of curls. The dress hugged every curve of her beautiful body as if the dress was expertly cut exclusively for her.  Christmas red gloves covered her hands to her elbows. Some type of red ribbon adorned her throat.

  As beautiful as she looked, it was her face that captivated him. Perfectly symmetrical features with espresso brown eyes he could lose himself into. Her full lips were painted the same Christmas shade as her gloves. The plan to say goodbye forever suddenly faded into insignificance. If it were possible, he was falling in love with Maisey, and still didn’t know her very well. What he did know he liked—a lot—and he really thought their relationship had the potential to grow so much more.

  Of course, Maisey was angry with him for standing her up Thanksgiving night, and rightly so. Plus, he had never found the right time to tell her about his own issue. That in itself, might be the deal breaker anyway.

  He inhaled a deep breath of confidence and strode over to her. “You look absolutely lovely, Maisey. A perfect Christmas bride.”

  “Thank you. You look great, too.” Her tone was still cool, but it sounded more like hurt rather than anger now. “You know, you don’t have to do this, Sean.”

  He reached for her gloved hand and pressed a kiss against it. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

  Before she could comment, Blythe stepped in. “Yes, just like that. A perfect Christmas couple who are madly in love and newly married, anticipating a perfect forever future.”

  He thought he spotted a grimace cross Maisey’s face. This might very well be a long morning.

  It turned out to be one of the best experiences of Maisey’s life. Even if it was only
playing
a bride. With her attic workspace turned into a Christmas wonderland, and dressed in the wedding gown she embellished herself into a one-of-a-kind creation, she was twirled and spun, and held close, and looked upon adoringly by her pseudo husband while a photographer snapped what seemed like hundreds of photos. There was the cutting of the fake cake, his hand on top of hers as they pretended to cut into the tall, white wonder of Styrofoam and paint. Then a champagne toast. With real champagne! Maisey had to admit to herself, he was good at playing a groom. Of course, he already been through a wedding and marriage before, and still carrying around some of the baggage from it. Standing her up last night was proof of that. Still, she wouldn’t let what happened—or didn’t happen—the evening before, ruin this experience.

  “Okay, dolls, just a few more…the big kiss between the bride and groom!”

  Even though she and Sean had kissed before, it felt weird, given their unresolved issues, and a dozen or so strangers watching every move. Suddenly the heat from the lights, and the champagne on an empty stomach, caused a sweat to break out on the back of her neck. As crazy as it seemed, as close to a faint as she was, she feared her makeup would start to run and ruin her face.

  Sean swooped in and wrapped an arm around her back and steadied her against him. “Are you okay? Even with the makeup, you suddenly turned pale.” There was so much concern in his blue eyes, she wanted to meld into him. She really liked this guy, but after last night...

  “It’s the heat…and the lights…and too much champagne,” she managed to say.

  “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

  A fan from across the room sent out a gentle breeze, and the woozy feeling started to lift.

“Where was that fan ten minutes ago?” she whispered to him.

  He chuckled and pressed a light kiss against her cheek.

  “Don’t smear the makeup yet!” Blythe gasped.

  “Ready?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Go for it.” Maisey had to keep the ear to hear grin from her face. She was supposed to be the demure new bride. One who completely put her budget wedding together with the help of Hand-Me-Down-Bride and Elegant Bride Direct.

  He took her in his arms, and dipped her backwards, and pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled back a few inches and locked his eyes to hers, there was so much emotion, and she knew he would never drop her. Or leave her hanging again.

  Maisey sighed with relief when Blythe and her crew packed up and left her house. The dress was removed and back on its padded hanger, the shoes boxed, and all of the thick, photographic makeup was washed away. She was grateful for the upcoming photo spread on Elegant Bride Direct, and it was fun getting dressed up like a Christmas bride, but she was glad to be finished, and couldn’t wait to see the photos and the blog spread.

  It was time to see where her relationship with Sean stood. She only hoped he had a plausible explanation for not showing up the night before, and leaving her hanging without even a phone call. She poured coffee, and invited Sean to stay, although he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

  “Thank you so much for what you did for me and my business today.” She took a seat on the sofa next to him.

  “I was happy to do it. I have to admit it was kind of fun. Being with you is always fun. You’ve become this breath of fresh air in my life. I think we really need to talk. though. There are a few things—well, one really big thing—I’ve kept from you, and it might be a deal-breaker. Even more so than not showing up for our Thanksgiving dessert date.”

  A heat came over Maisey’s chest and face, similar to the one that nearly caused her to faint earlier during the photo shoot, and she quickly lifted her coffee cup to her lips, and sipped the strong, sugary brew. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. The words “deal-breaker” were never words any woman wanted to hear in a budding relationship. It had to be The
Love List thing. The too coincidental meeting right after she chose his name from the basket at the wine shop.

  “Okay, do you want to start with last night?” She hoped to put off the deal-breaker for a few more minutes. Still, maybe it wasn’t so bad. If The Love List thing brought them together, then it was okay—she hoped.

  “You know I was at my former in-laws for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  He visibly inhaled. “Well, they crossed the line yesterday. I mean, I’ve put up with things I didn’t agree with because I know they are still in pain about the loss of their daughter. It’s something they’ll never get over…the loss of a child.”

  “I can’t imagine there is anything worse than outliving your child.”

  “When I got to their house, it wasn’t just them. They had found me a new wife.”

  A bolt of shock ran through her. Did she hear him correctly? She was lucky she wasn’t swallowing coffee at the time, as she likely would have choked. “A new wife?”

  “Maybe not a new wife. That’s a bit too strong. Still, that’s what it felt like. It was definitely a fix-up, though.”