Page 86 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas

My Jake.

He’s wearing that long travel coat he was wearing the first moment I saw him. He has his luggage with him, too. He must have come straight from the airport.

All around us, the crowd erupts in unison. “Ten!”

I step towards him and immediately wobble in my heels. Bending without taking my eyes from his, I slip them off and leave them behind to race to him. The deck is cold underfoot.

“Nine!”

Stopping just out of his reach, I whisper, “You’re here.”

“Eight!”

Jake takes a halting step towards me. “I’m here.”

“Seven!”

A tear breaks loose and coasts down his cheek. For once, I’m not the one crying.

“Six!”

I reach out with a trembling hand, drifting my fingers down the center of his chest, testing if he’s real. I can feel his heart hammering beneath.

“Five!” The volume escalates now. The air vibrates with it.

When I close my fist around the soft blue wool of his sweater, he whispers, “Thank god,” then he’s pulling me into him, burying his face in my hair.

“Four!”

I push away, cupping his face in mine. “You can’t be here.”

“Three!”

“Getting some mixed signals from you now, my love,” Jake chuckles.

“Two!”

“We were leaving it”— my voice breaks—“in London.”

“One!”

“You might have left it in London.” His chin trembles. “I brought it to New York.”

Jake’s mouth meets mine the moment the sky explodes in shimmering light above us. Around us. Inside us. The noise of it booms through my body, magnifying the racing beat of my heart.

He came for me. He’s here.

And now, I really am home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Epilogue

Twenty-four days to Christmas

I love winter mornings in the Cotswolds.

Jake and I arrived in London yesterday and headed here straight away despite the jet lag. I have to admit, though— flying first-class makes it much easier to sleep on a plane.