Better Not Pout (Mistletoe Falls)

by Maren Moore

It’s not that I think love isn’t real, but maybe it’s just not as whimsical as it seems between the pages of a book about a man, written by a woman.

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

“You’re hot as fuck when you’re mad. Bothering you might just be my new favorite pastime.”

“Trust me when I say I don’t need to beg a woman for anything, Rosalie, unless she’s into that kind of thing, and then I can be a very good boy.”

“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.” We’re so close I can feel the soft puff of air that escapes between her lips as she sucks in a breath. “So no, having to touch you, kiss you, hold your hand when we’re in public isn’t going to make me feel uncomfortable. Even if it’s fake.”

There’s nothing hotter than a good dad in any form, and most women would agree.

“But I’m starting to realize just how wrong I am about you. Now, all I want is to find out if you taste as sweet as I’ve imagined, Rosalie Sullivan.”

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.

“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.”

“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.”

What’s meant to be will always find a way.

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