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Sky knew where we were headed, but she didn’t know that I had rented us a private villa on the beach. We’d have an ocean view, three bedrooms, our own pool, and a private chef. I had gone all out for this trip. I wanted it to be perfect. She deserved nothing less, and I only planned on doing this one time.
One proposal.
One wedding.
One wife.
The past seven months with Sky had been truly life-changing. I had found my partner, the person I wanted to share everything with. She made all my days brighter, and I couldn’t wait to come home to her whenever I landed.
It was something I’d always wanted, but wasn’t sure I’d ever find. No one had made me feel this way before. My mother and siblings adored her. And vice versa. It was crazy how we’d come so far in such a short amount of time. From hating each other to not being able to live without one another.
A part of me had thought I might be a bachelor forever.
I couldn’t be happier to be proven wrong.
By my little redheaded spitfire, who was currently sitting in my passenger seat with a smile on her face, completely clueless as to what was coming next.
All the good stuff. The best stuff. That was what was coming.
Right after she said yes to my proposal.
The End
Thank you so much for reading my Thanksgiving story! Writing this enemies-to-lovers with forced proximity was so much fun, and I hope you loved it!
All the FUN FOR THE HOLIDAYS books are out now—twelve complete stand-alone romance stories with holiday-based themes! And in case you’re an audio lover, they’re available in audio now as well for the first time ever.:)
Here’s your look into Christmas with Saint- my really funny Brother’s Best Friend romance! These two crack me up!
SANTA’S FAVORITE ELF
IVY
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said as I tugged at the flimsy material attempting to cover my ass. “This thing is way too short. I can’t wear this.”
I looked at my best friend, Cori, whose expression was torn between comical and concerned as her violet-colored bob swished around with her movements. “You look hot.”
She was the only person I knew who could not only pull off that haircut, but also any color she decided to change it to. Cori was as experimental with her hair as I was safe. No one touched these golden locks, except me.
Narrowing my eyes, I glanced down at my exposed thighs once more. “I’m not supposed to look hot. I’m one of Santa’s elves!”
“Yeah, the hot one,” she mumbled under her breath, and I almost lunged for her, but I knew it would rip the so-called skirt in half. Or at least bust the zipper. “Ivy, it’s fine,” she said, trying to placate me.
“It’s not fine.” I pulled at the material, trying in vain to make it rest on my hips instead of my waist so I could get a little more length out of it. “This event is for kids, not their dads.”
“Who do you think brings them here?” she asked, and I realized that she’d planned for this. All of this.
“Cori, I’m not going out there in this. I can’t even bend over. I’m sure elves have to bend at some point.”
“Put some Spanx on underneath then. That way, when you move around, you won’t be showing your goodies to all the horny dads out there.” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Where is he?” She was talking to herself as she looked around the otherwise empty room.
“Who’s playing Santa this year anyway?” I asked right as Saint freaking LaCroix walked through the dressing room doors, carrying a pair of black boots, his blue eyes sparkling, even in the fluorescent lighting.
“Ho ho ho! I am.” His voice sent chills down my spine and made my thighs quiver. He sucked all the air out of the room the minute he waltzed into it.
Trying to pull it together, I shot Cori a murderous glare that let her know she could have at least warned me. But then that wouldn’t have been any fun…for her. Instead, I spun around and practically hopped into Saint’s arms as he wrapped himself around me, making my skirt go all the way up. I felt the cool breeze of air on my exposed ass cheeks as I breathed in his scent.
I had no idea what he wore that made him smell so good, but it always caused a visceral reaction in me. It was like it’d imprinted on me at some point, become a part of my DNA or some kind of sensory memory. One time, when I had been walking through the mall, the same smell drifted past me, and I almost fell to my knees in response. Whipping my head around, I’d searched for Saint, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Santa would never get any work done if you were at the North Pole,” he whispered into my ear, and I smacked his shoulder as I hopped down and adjusted my clothes.
I’d been pathetically in love with Saint since I had come out of the womb. At least that was how it always felt because I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have it bad for him. He’d always been sweet about it, subtly flirting back with me and making me feel special instead of embarrassed, but I knew he was just being kind. Saint never looked at me as anything more than his best friend’s little sister. Even when I’d started to grow boobs, his eyes had stayed firmly rooted to my own.
It was annoying.
Every other guy stared at my chest instead of my eyeballs, but not Saint. Even when I’d tried to torture him in high school by wearing cleavage-baring crop tops and tank tops so tight that you couldn’t help but notice what was hiding behind the fabric, he never even glanced down. There were times I wanted to shove my boobs in his face, but my brother, Davey, would have killed me on the spot. Davey had made it abundantly clear that I was to stay away from his friend. Not that I listened.
The worst part was that Saint knew I was obsessed with him. I’d never been any good at hiding it. And if I’d thought that my feelings could be filed away as some sort of silly schoolgirl crush when I got older, I was sorely mistaken. Saint was still the object of all of my fantasies, even now that we were grown adults. Everything I always liked about him had grown tenfold as he aged.
Why couldn’t I just get over him already?
