32. Liz
Chapter Thirty-Two
LIZ
As soon as all of the wedding gowns have been towed back into their store racks, I get a message from Kent saying he’s already at Mick’s, and so is my luggage.
“Do you have room for one more?” I ask Beau.
“Of course! Are you going to get that dress?”
Why? I have no real occasion for it. “No, I think I need to wait to see what else is out there.”
“I totally get it. If it’s meant to be yours, it will be.
” It’s such a Beau thing to say. But reminding myself of her story, I’m inclined to believe it’s true.
The four of us slip into our winter coats ready to brave the cold from the storefront to the limo.
But when we step outside, we realize it’s not just the cold we have to endure.
Camera lights flash all around us. Paparazzi are calling out Beau’s name and mine—asking about our respective engagements and wedding plans.
Beau, Kate, and Dahlia are all pros and say nothing.
They simply ignore the shutter clicks and comments and slide into the car.
It seems easy for them to ignore the press—probably because they have nothing to hide.
But I have a lot to hide and therefore feel very uneasy.
It takes getting away in the limo and being in the company of my supportive friends for the feeling to pass.
It’s Christmas Eve after all and I’m with people I care about. Even Dahlia.
That’s when my phone rings. It’s Leo. Again. I glance up at my friends, who seem to be waiting to see if I’m going to answer. “I’ll call him back,” I say, knowing I need to at some point. I’ve dodged all of his calls since I told him that I’m not coming back for Christmas.
The limo pulls up to Mick’s. The afternoon sun shines brightly on the manor, reflecting off the many wide windows. Mick’s butler, Earl, greets us at the door and kindly takes our coats.
“Ms. McKenna, I believe Mr. Kent is waiting for you by the terrace. Shall I show you the way?” Earl offers, gesturing for me to proceed ahead.
“Sure. Thanks.”
We walk through the enormous English house toward a room in the back facing the garden. Just as Earl said, Kent’s there waiting by the doors. He gazes out over the lawn but turns at the sounds of our footsteps.
“Hello, Darling. How was dress shopping?” he asks and offers his hand. The moment our palms connect, I feel instantly grounded and soothed after the day’s events.
“It was nice. What have you been up to?” I ask.
He smiles. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been working on your Christmas gift.”
I lean into him, resting my hands on his chest, and glance up at his stubbled, dimpled chin. “Working on it? Sounds like you’re building something.”
“Oh, we’re definitely going to be building something,” he says, rubbing his hands along my back. I feel myself melting in his arms, and I just want to curl into him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Kent takes my hand and opens the terrace doors.
We step outside, and a cool breeze sweeps past us.
Then, a snowflake falls on my cheek. And another.
And another. I look up, then down, and all around, taking in the garden.
It’s covered in sparkling, fluffy snow. And yet the sun is still shining above.
“Merry Christmas, Liz,” Kent says.
I gasp, shaking my head. This doesn’t make sense. “How is it snowing right now?”
Kent takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the terrace, pointing to the left. “You see that?”
“Snow machines?” I watch as snow is pumped out over the garden like confetti, creating a beautiful white Christmas scene. I turn to Kent. “You got me snow for Christmas?”
“Of course. I couldn’t let you have Christmas with no snowman. It’s tradition.”
I grin from ear to ear, then grab his handsome face in my hands and kiss him with appreciation filling my heart. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. It’s the best Christmas gift ever.”
He smiles back. “Good, now let’s play.” He wiggles his brows and pulls me back inside. Kent calls out to the entire Bonnaire crew. We all dress in our winter gear—puffy coats, gloves, hats, and scarves. Our shoes crunch against the packed snow as we walk outside.
Earl carries a tray of carrots, coal lumps, twigs, and scarves. “Don’t forget these.”
Kent and I find a spot in the center of the yard to build our snowman. Both of us want to be the foreman on the job, so we go back and forth, disagreeing over how large the snowman base should be.
“You know I have many years of experience with this, right?” I say.
“Fine. Let’s build two,” he says.
“A contest?”
“Yeah, the Brits against the Americans.”
I let out a big laugh and stick out my hand. “You got it. Come on, ladies, let’s build us a snow woman—w-o-m-a-n!”
Kent, Mick, and Drew begin constructing the base of theirs, while the girls and I pack and roll snow across the yard. Dahlia is technically a British-American but we easily talk her onto our side. I may be seasoned at this but my L.A. counterparts are not and our snowwoman is falling behind.
“They’re winning,” I say. “We have to distract them.”
“We could take off our clothes. That always works for me?” Beau says, and we all start laughing. That would do it.
“I’ve got a better idea.” I grab two handfuls of snow, crunching them into frozen baseballs. I march up behind Kent who’s lifting the middle section onto the base. “Oh, Kent,” I sing. He turns to me, and I chuck a little snowball at his shoulder. Smack!
“Liiiiiz.” Damn, I love the way he says my name, even when he’s got a warning in his eyes. “I don’t think you want to get into a snowball fight with me.”
“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that.” I throw the second snowball and run before it hits him, laughing wildly.
He chases after me, the sound of crunching snow at my heels, and a snowball crashes against my hip. “Gotcha!”
I scream between giggling fits. My heart races fast with my growing speed, and I’ve got the biggest grin on my face.
I hide behind a nearby tree, scooping up a couple of handfuls of snow, but I don’t have enough time to form them into anything useful before he gets to me.
I toss the snow at him anyway, but it crumbles before reaching him.
With a rosy-cheeked smile on his face, he races after me.
Screaming and laughing in delight, I dodge him until finally, he plows into me.
I lose my balance and yank his coat in an attempt to stay on my feet.
Both of us go tumbling to the soft ground.
Kent and I crack up, our cold noses touching and our warm breaths fogging in the frigid air.
Panting and out of breath, he stares into my eyes. “I knew I was right about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not the type to back down.” He just smiles and kisses me with his frozen lips right there in the snow.