It Must Have Been the Mistletoe... (18 page)

BOOK: It Must Have Been the Mistletoe...
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Rita's mouth dropped. Did this mean what she thought it meant? She didn't move, though. She couldn't. She wanted—no, needed—him to say it.

Reading her perfectly well, Tyler hunched his shoulders.

“I was a dick,” he said without preamble. “I overreacted. I'm so used to jumping off the deep end over Randy, I blew it.”

Rita's heart pounded, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't stop her bottom lip from trembling, though.

Seeing that as a minor victory, Tyler took a step closer. “I know you, Rita. You're amazing. You connect with people. You'd never hurt anyone on purpose.”

She pressed her lips together, warning herself to get a grip before she started crying.

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I really am. I was so afraid of falling in love, I stopped thinking rationally.”

Shock was the only thing that kept her from leaping into his arms.

Finally, he grimaced and asked, “Well? Aren't you going to say anything?”

Tears choking her voice, Rita only shook her head. Instead of words, she walked over, put her hands on either side of his chiseled cheeks and, standing on tiptoe, brushed her lips softly over his.

Tyler groaned, wrapping his arms tightly around her for a real kiss. The kind that made her head buzz and her knees melt.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back.

“For?”

“For looking past the packaging. For seeing the real me, and making me see the real me, too.” Rita traced the tips of her fingers over his jaw and smiled tremulously. “And for making me feel so wonderful about who I really am.”

“You should,” he said with a confused shrug. “You're incredible, Rita.”

Which was all she needed to hear.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

“I love you back,” he said, then he lifted her off her feet to spin her in a quick circle.

Rita giggled, throwing her head back in joy. Looked like she'd gotten the perfect Christmas gift after all.

One she never, ever, planned to return.

Epilogue

S
ETTING A TRAY OF COCOA-FILLED
mugs on the table next to the glowing Christmas tree, Rita listened to her sisters and her parents sing to the record spinning on the glowing victrola. She wasn't sure what made her happier, the look on her parents' faces when they'd opened their gift or what it'd meant to her to give it to them.

She was a success. Not, she realized with a sigh, because she'd pulled off the best gift of the season, thanks to Tyler. But because she'd found the best gift for herself. Love. Accepting that her family loved her, that Tyler loved her. And yes, that she loved herself. It was pretty freaking awesome.

All her life, she'd been surrounded by talent and love. And she'd been so focused on what she saw as her lack of the former to appreciate the latter.

But now she knew better.

Her heart filled as she reveled in the warmth of the season and her family's love. They'd just come in from the annual living Nativity and were glowing from both joy and the chilly evening air.

“Let's drink our chocolate before it gets cold,” her father decided as the record ended. “I'll go get the cookies.”

“Now you girls can take a break from having Dad grill you about the new men in your lives. And give me time to come to
terms with the fact that all three of you are in serious relationships,” Amanda said with a laugh, seeing the varied looks of relief and joy on her daughters' faces. “While you wait, guess what I found when we were hauling in decorations?”

She dug behind the tree and pulled out a big floral-patterned photo box. Rita whooped and grabbed it, setting it on the couch and pulling off the lid.

“Yay. Holiday memories,” she said with a smile for her mom.

“Wonderful.” Layla clapped, curling up next to Rita to dig into the box of photos between them. Alison leaned over the back of the couch.

“Hey, remember this?” Alison asked, holding up a picture of the three of them in front of the bus they used to travel in. Rita grinned. Her nine-year-old self had a fashion magazine tucked under one arm. Layla's mandolin was curled in her arms like a baby, and Alison, as usual, looked perfect.

“I miss that bus,” Alison said with a soft smile. Everything about her was soft tonight. Rita narrowed her eyes, wondering when she'd ever seen her sister so mellow.

“You look happy,” Layla said, voicing Rita's thoughts.

“I feel happy.” Alison glanced at the tree, then gave a sigh. “Like all my holiday wishes came true.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rita sighed. Tyler was picking her up later to take her to his mom's. Holy cow, she'd finally found a man who wanted her to meet his mother. She giggled. “Cookies, ladies?”

Their mom took the tray from her husband and set it down before curling into his arms. “Look, Eric. It's the best Christmas ever, isn't it? Our girls, all grown-up, happy and in love.”

“I'll be having a talk with their young men this week and make sure they understand just what I expect when it comes to my little girls,” Eric said. His tone was joking and his smile proud, but Rita knew he wasn't kidding. He was the reason
they'd all found perfect guys. Because he believed in the magic of love and everything that went with it.

Rita leaned her head against Layla's and curled her hand over Alison's where it rested on her shoulder. Smiling, they watched their parents and their wonderful example of happily ever after.

“With a love like theirs all around us,” she murmured to her sisters, “how could we miss?”

ISBN: 978-1-4268-7580-9

IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE MISTLETOE…
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

WHEN SHE WAS NAUGHTY…
Copyright © 2010 by Peggy A. Hoffmann

COLE FOR CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2010 by Rhonda Nelson

A BABE IN TOYLAND
Copyright © 2010 by Tawny Weber

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].

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BOOK: It Must Have Been the Mistletoe...
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