Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Things like love and joy and the smile on Holly Jo’s face as she says, “I do,” and throws her arms around her new husband. She’s kissing him with so much enthusiasm someone finally calls out, “save it for the wedding night, you two!” making all of us laugh.
Holly emerges from the kiss with flushed cheeks and a big, infectious grin. Luke thrusts their joined hands into the air, and we all clap and cheer until our palms sting, because we know what a big deal this marriage is.
At least those of us on Luke’s side of the aisle.
I’ve been best friends with Elliot, Luke’s younger brother, since we were kids, and I’ve had enough run-ins with Grouchisaurus Rex—our secret nickname for Luke—to know how extraordinary this happily ever after is.
If you’d told me even a year ago that Elliot’s cranky, Jingle-Bell-Junction-hating big brother would soon be a full-time resident of my hometown, working remotely so he could spend more time with his fiancée, and planning to retire from big business completely in the spring to help Holly Jo run her pet rescue, I would have laughed my face off.
Such a complete turnaround would have seemed impossible.
But there Luke is, helping Holly Jo into the sleigh that will carry them up to the Ratcliffe mansion for the reception, a huge smile on his face.
It’s proof that miracles can happen, and even impossible dreams can come true.
I cling to the thought as everyone lines up to board one of the fleet of sleighs waiting in a tidy queue in the freshly fallen snow, and I hurry back to the now empty grove. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I ignore the voice in my head telling me I’m a lunatic and stride straight up the bower of greenery and flowers that stretched over the couple during their vows.
I reach out, pluck a petal off the closest poinsettia, shove it in my mouth, close my eyes, and make a wish as I chew.
Please let Elliot say yes. He has to say yes. Saying no is not an option because this is my deepest love wish.
“What are you doing?” a deep voice rumbles from behind me.
I spin, eyes flying wide with a mixture of guilt and hope. Maybe this weird, old wedding tradition is actually working! And I haven’t even swallowed yet!
Yet there’s Elliot, looking incredible in a dark green wool suit, with his hair slicked away from his handsome face. If he weren’t my best friend, I would definitely have tried to sleep with him at some point during our teenhood or four years at college.
He’s just too delicious for words and sweet and funny, to boot.
But he was also a major player, who slept his way through half the sorority houses on campus, and I didn’t want to put our friendship at risk. Elliot wouldn’t have treated me differently after a roll in the hay, but I sensed I wouldn’t be able to get naked with this man without feelings involved. Not when I was a young twenty-something, anyway.
But now I’m thirty-four. I’m older and wiser and so desperate for my dreams to come true that I’m currently chewing a nasty-tasting leaf to mush.
If I can do this, I can do anything, even talk my best friend into being my sperm donor.
I’m about to gulp down the rancid yuck when Elliot adds, “You should spit that out. Poinsettias aren’t as poisonous as most people think, but you could still end up yacking on the dance floor.”
I lean over, spitting the leaf forcefully onto the snow and swiping frantically at my lips as Elliot laughs.
“Shit! Now you tell me,” I say, spitting again.
“Sorry, I was distracted by the big farewell,” he says, wandering closer. “And I didn’t know you had plans to eat the decorations.” He arches a brow. “Why are you eating the floral arrangements? If I might be so bold as to ask?”
“Old Norwegian superstition.” I shrug, then confess. “Or maybe just an old family tradition, but my mom and aunt both swore that if you eat part of the wedding bower, your most secret love wish will come true.”
Curiosity sparks in Elliot’s deep blue eyes. “Oh yeah? And what is your most secret love wish, Nancy Pants?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I warn, warmed by the old nickname.
He grins. “Color me even more intrigued.”
“As you should be,” I say, my pulse racing faster. Maybe it’s the fact that I plan to ask Elliot to knock me up. Maybe it’s the poinsettia poison already hitting my bloodstream. Either way, I fully intend to go through with this indecent proposal.
As soon as I have a chance to wash my mouth out with water and down at least one, confidence-boosting glass of champagne…
Linking my arm through Elliot’s I whisper, “I’ll confess all. As soon as you get me drunk and promise to let me take all the extra parmesan puffs home after the reception. One night of puffs is never going to be enough.”