Epilogue
HARLAN
“ I told you we were going to be late,” Reid grouses in the passenger seat as I park my truck in a side lot and turn in my seat to look at him.
“May I remind you that our bedroom is covered with every sweater you own because you had nothing to wear. ”
He sniffs, tilting his chin up in defiance as he crosses his arms over the jacket covering the current winner of the sweater games.
“I just wanted to look nice.”
“You always look nice, Christmas,” I murmur, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him toward me. “You look sexy and delicious and so damn handsome all I want to do is take you back home and fuck you the way we both like.”
His pupils dilate and he licks his lips, and I can see him debating if we actually need to be here today as his gaze drops to my mouth.
But we do.
We really do.
“No one would miss us,” he says, his voice breathy and full of need.
“They would, and may I remind you that you volunteered us to run the booth for the sanctuary.”
“It’s your passion, and I’m so proud of you and you know I love any and all opportunities to show you off.”
“Uh-huh,” I say even as my chest swells with emotion the way it always does when he says stuff like that. “So get out of the truck before I take you in the back of it.”
“That’s not the threat you think it is.”
I snort and press my lips to his in a hard, but quick, kiss. “Don’t move.”
He humors me, his smile growing as he watches me round the front of the truck to open his door and offer my hand. He takes it and I smile down at the gloves I’d gotten him last year.
He notices and his lips curve up into a smirk. “Maybe we can get matching ones.”
“Don’t count on it.” I chuckle, taking his hand and leading him down the street. There’s something in the air here that I can never quite explain. It’s a sense of home, the magic that comes when you’re surrounded by people you love who love you in return. It’s neighbors helping neighbors and wreaths hanging on streetlights and hot chocolate flights in the middle of summer with the air conditioner cranked all the way up.
It’s Reid.
And if all goes well, we’ll be creating our own magic here too.
Reid spots the hot chocolate tent and grins at me as he pulls us toward the front and orders four different kinds—our favorites and then a hazelnut cream and spiked eggnog. Reid grabs the tray, as I lead us toward the bench we’d sat on last year.
The night I knew I’d fallen in love with Reid Sterling.
“This is weird; I think we’re just going to have to try them.”
“Why?” I ask even though I already know.
“Because they didn’t write which kind is which.” He picks up the first cup as my hand closes around the small box in my pocket. “This one says Will.”
“What’s the next one say?”
His brow furrows as he picks it up, turning the cup in his hand. “ You.”
“And the next?” I ask, my voice a little gruff as his lips part and he reaches for the cup without taking his eyes off me.
“Marry.”
“Do you need to read the last one?” I whisper, dropping to one knee as I pull the small black box out and open the lid.
“Oh my God,” he croaks out as his hand flies up to cover his mouth.
“Will you marry me, Christmas? So we can drink hot chocolate and listen to all these songs year-round. So I can surprise you on your bad days and your good days. So I can make love to you on lazy weekends and all the days in between,” I say, and he barks out a quick laugh before I take his hand in mine. “So I can show you what it’s like to love someone so much you can barely breathe and what it’s like when that person is your entire world.”
“What was the question?” Reid whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“I want to marry you, Christmas.”
“There’s nothing I want more than to marry you, Mr. Frost.”
“Except that thing I do with my tongue, right?” I murmur and watch his face flame with heat as I slip the ring on his finger, knowing that I won’t be recalling our exact conversation when I tell the grandkids someday.
Chuckling, I rise to my full height and pull Reid against me, ignoring the cheers that go up around him as I claim him in this spot that will always be ours.
Because I came to Wintervale and found my home in a man who looked beyond my frosty facade and loved me anyway. The man who can’t stop looking at the ring I’d put on his finger.
The man who changed my life.
The man I plan on loving forever.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Frost,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine.
“I’m gonna love the hell out of marrying you, Christmas.”
THE END
Thank you so much for reading Frosty the Farmhand!