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This book is dedicated to anyone who ever wanted to bang under a Christmas tree.
She looks far prettier than is good for me, and this isn’t the first time I’ve thought that about my employee.
How could I? I’ve only been looking forward to that meeting since I woke up.
I check my reflection in the window. This suit does look sharp. I run a hand over the midnight blue jacket. I did pick it for a reason. This is my best suit, and I like to look nice. The fact that the meeting is with Fable has nothing to do with my selection. Fine. Maybe it has a little something to do with it. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Or hide. Just like I’ve been doing for the last year or so.
“What happened? Did he hurt you? Because if he did something to my sister a month—no, less than a month—before my wedding, I’ll…I’ll…put composted cow manure in his slice of wedding cake.”
I’m a scent girl. If a man takes the time to smell good, it says he cares. It says he tries. It says he doesn’t take things for granted.
“You deserve to be treated with respect. With adoration. With real affection.”
And I’d like to show that Brady guy how a woman should be treated. More so, I’d like to show Fable.
“Looks like I just ordered myself a Christmas boyfriend,” she says, shimmying a little at the prospect of revenge. “I’ll take twenty-five days of this gift, thank you very much. Fine, twenty-three, technically, but what’s the difference?”
“Like which side of the bed do I sleep on?” The side with me.
I think ice cream is proof of the existence of a higher being,
Trouble is I’m going to need some kind of distance from my fake girlfriend in Evergreen Falls or else I’ll fall entirely in love with her before Christmas.
Later, when we’re cleaned up and sliding under the covers, I say, “It really doesn’t matter that you can’t sing.” “Why is that?” “Because you fuck like a rock star.”
“Oh my god, the man can bake. Wait. Can he fuck too?”
“Coffee, please. I’ve been in London too long, and the tea tastes like muddy water.”
I fell in love with him.” They erupt into cheers. I roll my eyes. “Stop, stop.” “The first step is saying it,” Josie goads. “The second step is doing something about it,” Everly adds. “The third step is banging,” Maeve finishes.
