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“This is my fiancé,” she said.

I stared at them for a long moment. Then I laughed. They got me—hilarious. Truly. How she managed to convince this admittedly very attractive man to play this prank with her was beyond me.

I pulled out my keys. “Okay, very funny, guys.”

“I’m not being funny,” she said. “We’re engaged.”

They peered back at me earnestly.

“Riiight,” I said, walking out of the shop. “And when’s the wedding?”

“Christmas Eve. Three days from now. You’ll love the town—it’s really pretty up here for the holidays.”

“Of course it is,” I said, locking the door behind me. “And let me guess, he owns a failing bakery that you’re going to somehow save?”

“It’s a hot chocolate shop, actually.”

“Ha ha. Seriously, though, when are you coming back?”

Silence.

I looked back at the video call. Noel was holding up her hand. She had a diamond ring on. A very, very big diamond ring.

My stomach sank.

“I want you to be my maid of honor,” she said, beaming.

I stared at the screen.

“After the honeymoon, we’re coming down to Minneapolis to empty out my apartment,” she said. “I put in my resignation at the firm. We can get a credit for the cruise. And since you already have the time off, the wedding date is perfect—”

“Noel, I need you to call me back alone,” I said carefully.

She looked confused. “For what?”

“Call me alone. Just ask Nicholas for a moment.”

“Look,” he said. “We know this is a little unexpected. It was unexpected for us too.” He smiled at her. “It just… when you know, you know.”

She gazed at him. “When you know, you know.”

They stared at each other with heart eyes. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Kissed her. I gawked in horror.

“I’m coming down there,” I said, making a beeline for my car.

“Yes, the sooner the better,” she said. “We have so much to do. There’s the engagement party and the rehearsal dinner—oh, Nicholas, will you make her that gingerbread French toast for breakfast?” she asked him. “The one you made me on the second day?”

“Of course.” They smiled at each other. Then he kissed her again.

I made an audible squeak. What in the actual hell was going on???

She was being held against her will. This was a hostage thing. It had to be. Or she was having a stroke or she bumped her head, a tumor in her frontal lobe, this was brain damage, there was no fucking way.

Noel wasn’t impulsive. She was not a risk taker. Also, she hated hot chocolate.

“I am on my way,” I said. “Send me the address.” Then I hung up.

A few seconds later, the text came through. A town called Little Christmas. Three hours from here and a full hour outside of any city big enough to have a department store. Proof enough that she had to be kidding.