“I remember,” she said, not quite trusting her voice.
“A year ago I thought what I wanted was a partner. But I found something else. Something better than I ever could have planned.”
He stopped in front of the new gate and turned to face her. He was so tall and warm and wonderful. Beneath that broody exterior, Ryan Sosa had a soft heart.
“I found you, Sam.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “I found you, fell for you when I wasn’t even looking. When all my plans had gone to hell.”
“I was looking for a partner,” he said again. “But I found the love of my life.”
“Oh, crap,” Sammy whimpered, tears beginning to slip from the corner of her eyes. Her mascara wasn’t going to hold up to this.
He brushed the tears away one at a time.
“You took me for a ride and you changed my life,” he continued. “You changed my plans and my path and I’ve been grateful every day since.”
“Maybe I’m not the most romantic guy out there, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to build a plan together, grow together. So I got you this.”
Sammy was too bamboozled to be surprised when he didn’t get down on one knee. Instead, he pointed to the other side of the gate.
“Huh?” she sniffled ineloquently.
“That acreage you’ve been eyeing for the past eight months.”
More tears fell, scalding hot on her icy cheeks. “You did what?” This was better, more meaningful than any shiny bauble in a stupid jeweler’s box.
“Catch up, Sparkle,” he admonished. But his smile was soft. “I bought the land. More land means a bigger sanctuary, right?”
“That’s right,” she whispered, stepping up to the gate and picturing it. More land. More animals. He just kept making her dreams come true.
“I believe in you,” Ryan said behind her. “In what you’re doing. And I want to be part of it.”
She mopped at her eyes and turned around. The “thank you” died on her lips when she saw him kneeling in the snow, a stupid jeweler’s box in his hand.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Sarge darted between them, flinging fresh powder in all directions. Maggie softly whickered her approval.
“Samantha Ames, will you marry me?”
“But… but it hasn’t been two years yet. You have a timeline.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need another year to be certain. I’ve been certain since last Solstice. I love you, Sam. I’ve loved you since you called me dirty hot and yelled at me over a sheep.”
She brought her gloved hands to her mouth. “You’re sure?” she pressed. “Absolutely sure? Because I want this. I want this so bad. But if you have any doubts or feel pressured or—”
“Sparkle, I’m freezing my ass off down here. I need you to say yes so I can stand up, put this ring on your finger and kiss the hell out of you.”
“Yes.” She whispered it. Then said it again. And a third time for good measure as he swept her up in his arms and spun her around.
When he released her, it was only long enough to slip off her glove and slide the diamond band onto her finger. “I didn’t want to get you some honking solitaire you wouldn’t be able to wear to work,” he said, holding up her hand to admire the glint of snow and diamonds.
She still felt dizzy, but in a warm, happy, drunk kind of way. “I love it.” She raised her eyes to his face. “I love you. So much that it leaves me breathless.”
He pointed above their heads, a wicked grin on his kissable mouth. She looked up and saw the mistletoe hanging from the sign.
“Damn. For a guy who doesn’t do romance, you did good.”
“Just don’t tell Eva. I don’t want to have to consult with her on another hero,” he said, dragging her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair.
“I’m going to keep you to myself,” she promised.
“Merry Christmas, Sam.”
“Happy Solstice, Ryan.”
He kissed her as the snow fell. As the dog barked. As her heart beat steadily against his.
“By the way. I looked at our finances and I ran a few preliminary budget numbers for the wedding and honeymoon…”
Author’s Note to the Reader
Dear Reader,
I hope you found The Mistletoe Kisser to be the warm, fuzzy hug escape that I intended it to be. I tried to turn a short story into a quirky novella and ended up escaping into Blue Moon to leave 2020 behind for a few hours a day. Hence the quirky novella turning into a full-length novel.
It’s my love letter to you. You’re doing great. Even on the days when you don’t think you are. Keep hanging in there because there is always light at the end of the hippie, dippy, most-likely-manipulated-by-the-Beautification-Committee tunnel.
If you loved this book, feel free to leave a review and tell all your reader friends! If this is your first Blue Moon book, No More Secrets where the fun starts! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my books!
* * *
Xoxo
Lucy
WONDERING WHAT TO READ NEXT?:
If you haven’t read the rest of the Blue Moon series, start here.
* * *
If you’re in the mood for more small-town Christmas enemies-to-lovers, grab a copy of The Christmas Fix.
About the Author
Lucy Score is a Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author. She grew up in a literary family who insisted that the dinner table was for reading and earned a degree in journalism. She writes full-time from the Pennsylvania home she and Mr. Lucy share with their obnoxious cat, Cleo. When not spending hours crafting heartbreaker heroes and kick-ass heroines, Lucy can be found on the couch, in the kitchen, or at the gym. She hopes to someday write from a sailboat, or oceanfront condo, or tropical island with reliable Wi-Fi.
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Acknowledgments
Joyce and Tammy and Mr. Lucy for all the hand-holding you do for me
Audio Dan who is now also Newsletter Dan
Binge Readers Anonymous for their undying, over-the-top support of Blue Moon
Everyone who didn’t judge me for putting up the Christmas decorations the second week of November
Kari March Designs for the fabulous cover
Jess and Heather for their eagle eyes
My Street and ARC teams for being tireless cheerleaders
Cleo the cat for being a pain in my ass
Readers for having superb taste in books
Sushi delivery
My new sweater that feels like the innards of a teddy bear
Lucy’s Titles
Standalone Titles
Undercover Love
Pretend You’re Mine