Better Not Pout (Mistletoe Falls)

by Maren Moore

Truthfully, gorgeous doesn’t even come close to what this woman is, and for a second, it catches me off guard.

Guess this means this won’t be the last I see of Rosalie Sullivan, and fuck if I’m not at all mad at that.

Rosalie Sullivan has my full attention, whether I want it that way or not.

“That makes sense because the only girl who would willingly date you would have to be compensated in order to do so,” I smart back, a pleased smirk splitting my face. “Your sparkling personality and all.”

Be strong. Do not fall victim to Wells McCoy like every other person in this town has. Even if he’s petting your Penny like she’s this delicate little thing and he’s worried his big hands could crush her. So tender that I want to scoop her up and run away before he takes both of our hearts hostage.

I’m really a homebody type of person. I’d rather be home, cuddled up in a fluffy blanket with Penny, than somewhere with a ton of people, where I can’t wear my pajamas.

“Any guy would be the luckiest motherfucker on this planet to be able to touch you, and if he says otherwise, he’s a liar.”

Yeah, I’m in some real fucking trouble when it comes to Rosalie Sullivan.

Unfortunately, I have to admit that I am beginning to have a teeny, tiny, minuscule crush on my new fake boyfriend.

“You know my coffee order?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I pay attention.” He. Pays. Attention? To me?

Like none of them has any right to look at what’s mine. Who gives a shit if it’s fake.

To everyone else… Rosalie is my girl. Which means every man in this room… no, every man in this town needs to keep their eyes to themselves, or we’re going to have a real big problem.

I’ve been attracted to this woman since the moment she first stomped into my bar, hell-bent on tearing me a new one for stealing that damn letter.

But as I’m kissing my fake girlfriend in the middle of my barely renovated bar, it feels like the most right thing I’ve ever done. Like all of the shit that I’ve been through in the last couple of years has led me straight here. Straight to her.

Even more so… Rosalie Sullivan looks like mine. Even if it’s only for now.

Stepping closer, he slides a hand around my waist and closes the distance between us. “Only thing sweeter than this is you.”

Wells comes to a sudden stop, his fingers tipping my chin up to capture my eyes, holding them intently. “Fuck that guy. He shouldn’t ever ruin shit for you ever again, Rosalie. If it was up to me, I’d beat the shit out of him for every time he’s hurt you.”

I think Rosalie might be the magic, and I’m not sure if she even realizes it.

The truth is that Rosalie Sullivan is something I never saw coming.

I can see the way he looks at you. I know that you’re special—it’s just a mother’s intuition. You know, he was lost for a long time, and something tells me that all of his searching led him right here to you, sweetheart.

Like I want to be the guy who makes sure that she never feels that way again.

“I might not know everything about you, Rosalie, but I know that fucker never deserved you. Not by a fucking mile.”

Next time I see him, I might have to show him what it’s like when a retired hockey player who was known for being rough on the ice puts their fist into his face.

“That fucker never deserved to lay a single goddamn finger on you, Rosalie. It’s you that was too good for him. And you know what? It’s good that he fucked up and lost you because then I never would’ve had the chance to make you mine, Sugar. You are beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Without a doubt, without question. I love your body.”

“You are perfect. Every inch of you. And if you’ll let me, I want you to give me the chance to prove it to you.”

There’s something about her, something that I had no clue I wanted so badly until she walked into my life. Now, she’s in my head, all around me, and I can’t get enough.

I’m staring at you because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Never think that you ever have to hide yourself from me, Rosalie. I love every goddamn inch of you.

He’s the sexiest thing I’ve quite literally ever seen, and each time I think that he can’t possibly get any more attractive to me… he does.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Wells yells as he grabs me around the waist and picks me up, spinning me around in a circle like we just won a freaking Stanley Cup and not a goal on a frozen pond at his family’s house. “A fucking natural. Look at that.” I giggle, rolling my eyes at the dramatics. “It was one shot.”

Rosalie Sullivan is sugar and spice, and I love every single bit of both sides of her.

O Holy Night, has the man gotten hotter in the few days since I’ve seen him? How is that even freaking possible?

“They’re tempting, but they’re nothing compared to how tempted I am by you. I’m beginning to realize that my sweet tooth is for you, Rosalie Sullivan.”

I’m fucking crazy about her, and even though developing real feelings is the last thing I expected to happen, it doesn’t make it any less true. I want her to be my girl. I want to date her, get to know everything there is to know about her. I want her to be mine. For real this time.

She’s fucking radiant. Every time I think that she can’t possibly be any more gorgeous, she always proves how wrong I am.

“Looks like I found your Santa letter, Sugar,” he says, his mouth twitching as he glances down at my letter that he’s holding. I nod, pulling my lip between my teeth. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“Rosalie,” he says, interrupting my ramble with a low, deep laugh. “How in the hell could I not be crazy about you, Sugar? I’ve spent the last few weeks so wrapped up in you, I don’t know the way out. I can’t go back to the way it was before, like I don’t know how beautiful you are. How kind, passionate, driven, and witty. How sweet your smile is after taking the first sip of your sugar milk from Frosty’s.”

“The whole time I thought I was searching for a place to call home, when all along, I was searching for you, Rosalie.”

Listen, big guy, I’m fuc—freaking crazy about her. I love this woman more than I ever thought possible to love another person. Every single day that I wake up with her in my arms, I ask the universe how the hell I got lucky enough to be the one that gets to love her.

My home is wherever Rosalie is. She’s the closest thing to perfect that this world has ever seen, and somehow, someway, I ended up being the man she chose to love. That brings me back to finding something to ask for. All I want for Christmas… is for Rosalie Sullivan to be mine, forever. Wells McCoy