All Madison wants for Christmas is the same person who once wanted her. Free from the shackles of her broken heart, she's finally ready to give love another shot. But is Madi too late to win back the man of her dreams?
SEQUEL to The Heartbreak Hypot...
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"A lactose-free milk chocolate for the lady, with just a hint of cinnamon."
I reached up to take the bright red mug from Mr. Van Der Yates' silver tray of sweets. He might have been off duty for the twenty-fifth, but that didn't mean he was letting himself sit back and relax. Rather, on Christmas morning, I very quickly learned exactly who Dex inherited his hot cocoa-making skills from; it was a family trade that his dad took very seriously.
His golden eyes glimmered as he looked to the sofa opposite mine, throwing his protégé a wink. "Let's see if she can catch the secret ingredient."
"Not a chance," Dex said, grinning right back.
I was cozied up on the sofa in his parents' chalet, watching the guys and their families open their presents around the tree. Blair and Noah looked up at me skeptically from their spot on the floor below, while Dex cocked his head and leaned forward in his seat. Even James looked unconvinced as he re-joined me, passing his red hat to one of Noah's brothers after a long morning of playing Santa.
I mulled over the warm liquid like a true cocoa connoisseur. My eyes widened the slightest bit, my heart lifting in my chest. No, it couldn't be...
"Peanut butter," I declared.
Mr. V's eyebrows rose to the exposed rafters. He shook his head, a hearty laugh rippling through the carols playing over Noah's speaker. "Wow. That has to be a new record." He nudged James with his elbow before picking up his tray. "She's a keeper, kid."
"Oh, he knows," Blair purred under his breath, though not quite softly enough to escape a look from his older cousin.
James' gaze quickly fell back on me, a smile lighting up his voice as he moved a loose curl from over my face. "I didn't know you had such a finely-tuned palate."
"I don't. It's just ..." I watched the marshmallows bob up and down in my drink, swallowing the peanut butter cloaking my throat. "It's how my dad made it."
Wrapping paper tore around us, a few of Noah's siblings shrieking with joy. But James and I grew silent as those marshmallows began to swell.
I looked up to smile at him, to reassure him that I was okay. And I was okay. I would always miss my dad, and Christmas would always be a reminder of every tradition we once had. But it wasn't ruined. It was a time to remember him, to remember the love for the holidays he'd passed onto me.
James' features softened, every shade of blue in his eyes glimmering in the bright light of Christmas morning. He looked tanned and golden in his white woolen sweater, warming me from the inside out when he leaned over to brush his lips against my cheek.
Maybe I should have felt bad about breaking my no-PDA pact with Noah, especially in front of James' whole family. But since Mrs. Bennet was quite literally sitting on her husband's lap, I reasoned that James' quick peck was comparatively tame.
