Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
I blinked at him. This wasn’t real.
“Meri, I have to be honest with you, though. I meant what I said. I do love you. You have an amazing heart, you’re creative and fun, and you’re so darn sexy, you give me a constant North Pole. I can’t get enough of you, and I never will. But if this isn’t what you want, then you can walk away.”
“I don’t even know what this is.”
“I don’t want to do this without you. I’ve seen the world and everything it has to offer. What I want is right here.” He kissed me again, sending tingles to my toes.
“Beau,” I said, “I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.”
“It’s what I can do for you, Meri. You can be the one woman in the world who truly has a magical life—endless giving, endless Christmas, and endless love.”
My heart squeezed with his words, but my mind simply couldn’t accept what he was attempting to lay at my feet. “I need a minute. Maybe a few hundred thousand of them.” I pointed to the door leading inside. “Also, I have a charity auction to put on.”
He smiled, and his face was completely clean shaved now.
I did a double take. “Where did your beard go?”
“You’re resisting seeing the truth, but I hope you’ll change your mind.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
With hands shaking and knees like bread pudding, I somehow managed to make it halfway through the auction without fumbling or disclosing to the world I was in the midst of a teeny tiny holiday psychosis.
From my spot on the little stage in the corner next to our pyramid of stockings, I couldn’t see Beau, but I definitely felt his presence. Or presents?
No, stop it. He is not the next Santa.
Either way, there was a joyous electricity buzzing in the air, and it had my hair frizzing out. The sleek shine of my brown mane was gone, replaced by a straggly mop made of dark ramen noodles.
At least no one seemed to notice. The guests were all smiling and laughing and overbidding on everything.
“Okay. Whoever’s under eighteen, look away,” I said with a big smile. “Stocking number fifteen is for adults only, donated by our own Buddy’s Boudoir.” I looked at the card with the description. “Opening bid starts at twenty dollars. Buddy says, and I quote, ‘Put the tingle in your jingle this Christmas with our signature peppermint pleasure massage oils.’ Gift pack includes a private couple’s class on the art of frosting your…” I looked at Buddy to the left of the stage. “I can’t say that.” I snickered. “But I’m sure everyone can come up with their own ideas.”
“I’d like you to frost my snowballs!” some man called from the back.
I squinted through the lights. It was that stupid Kevin, and he sounded drunk.
“Sir,” I said into the mic with a straight face, “I doubt you have any. But I bet your baby carrot is impressive to all the elves.” The room exploded in laughter. “Now, moving on. Can we start the bidding at—”
“Come on now, Slutty Tumbleweed!” Kevin yelled. “Don’t be shy! We all know you like to ho, ho, ho.”
With my mouth closed, I swept my tongue over the top row of my teeth and sucked my incisor for a moment. Why people did that, I didn’t know, but I guessed it was left over from caveman days when your enemy was about to get a bite taken out of his ass.
“You know what, Kevin? You’re an acehole.” Asshole! Asshole! I held up my palm. “I mean butthole! Sorry, parents. I know butthole is still a word you don’t want to hear at an event like this. But, kids, let this be my gift to you. Bullies can’t be stopped by turning the other cheek, by reasoning with them, or even tattling. The only thing that stops them is speaking the truth. The cold, hard, mean truth. Yes, sometimes, they even need a butt whooping—not that I advocate violence—but darn—some people really deserve it. So, Kevin, here’s my truth, which also happens to be the truth. You’re an insecure little dickins of a man, and you haven’t changed since middle school. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, this awesome, oh-so-articulate man ruined five years of my life because I wouldn’t let him touch my ti-ti…” I sighed. “My fluffy lady jugs. But, Kevin, I am here to tell you that you have failed at life. You have failed to grow into a man. Because a real man doesn’t put people down to make himself feel better.”
I drew a long breath, feeling years of nasty, hurtful memories lifting away. That felt incredible! I should’ve done it in middle school.
“You’re still a fucking ho, Meri!” Kevin called out. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Bitch.”
“Wow.” I raised a brow, shaking my head. Some people never learned.