Santa’s Mistletoe Playbook

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

DANICA

D anica sprinted to the Alaska Airlines gate. “Can you please unload my two bags? I have an emergency and can’t take this flight.” She figured a little white lie might boost her chances.

The boarding attendant gave her a dreary expression. “I’ll see what I can do. If they’re already onboard, you’ll be out of luck.”

Danica rushed to the window to see the baggage shuttle on its way to the aircraft. “They haven’t loaded all of it yet. Please?” she pleaded, using puppy-dog eyes.

“Go down to baggage claim. If we can do it, that’s where you’ll pick them up,” said the attendant.

“Thank you so much.” She encountered the older woman on her way out of the gate to the terminal. She stopped and squeezed the woman’s arm. “I took your advice. I’m sure you’ll be with your husband soon. I’ll say a prayer for you.”

“You’re welcome, dear, and thank you, too. Merry Christmas,” she said warmly, patting Danica’s hand.

Danica took off running, rolling her carry-on behind her. She took the escalator downstairs to baggage claim and waited with fingers crossed. After about twenty minutes, her two bags appeared. Grateful, she rolled everything out of the ground transportation doors.

She hadn’t given a thought about what she would do next.

Her phone sounded, and she answered.

“Look up,” said Bryson.

She lifted her chin, and her breath hitched. There he was, standing next to the idling pickup, looking like a hot million in his denim jean jacket with the collar turned up. His tight-fitting jeans and Arizona cowboy boots made him hot, like he’d galloped in on one of Santa’s reindeer, fresh off the tundra. He was truly a sight for sore eyes.

Danica was so overcome with emotion, her heart stuttered as he moved toward her. “It’ll never be too late.” His voice was husky, his expression solemn as he stopped in front of her.

She dropped her bags and threw her arms around his neck. “When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you’d given up on us.”

He squeezed her tight. “I’ll never give up on you. I’m sorry. I’m as much to blame for what happened as you are. I’ve made too many demands of you. Monty helped me see that I’ve been doing all the taking while you’ve been doing most of the giving in our relationship.”

Danica thought of the woman inside the terminal. “Someone told me that same thing.”

Bryson kissed her lightly on the lips. “We have lots to work out.”

“Yes, we do.” She beamed up at him. “But first, I want you to make amends with your cousin Devin. He thought of you as a brother before you tossed him from your life.”

“He actually said that?” Bryson seemed astonished by it.

“Yes.” She pressed her palm to his chest. “Plus, we have things to celebrate. It’s Christmas!”

He bent to grab her bags and hefted them into the back seat of the pickup. “Now that you mention it. Get in. We’ll go change first. I’m taking you to a place where suit jackets are required.” He opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

“Really? I can’t wait!” she bubbled. “I brought a special dress, hoping we’d go somewhere like that.”

The weight of the world lifted from Danica’s shoulders, and she exhaled a noisy sigh of relief. As she watched her handsome boyfriend round the front of the truck, her favorite love song played on the radio. Good timing. It was a sign.

Not everything was coincidence.

Danica admired the gorgeous view of the city lights from the Perch, a popular, elegant restaurant at the top of the Mizzen Hotel in downtown Anchorage. Bryson had reserved a corner table for a one hundred eighty-degree view for their Christmas dinner. The moon shone over Cook Inlet, shimmering car-sized ice chunks floating with the outgoing tide.

Bryson was especially attentive to Danica throughout dinner. When they finished, he sat back, studying her in the flickering candlelight on the white tablecloth. He produced a long-stemmed rose, along with a card.

“Merry Christmas, Danni. Never doubt for a nanosecond that I love you.” He offered them to her. “You look hot in that tight, glittery cocktail dress, by the way.”

“And you look incredible in that dark suit.” She gazed into his chocolate eyes. “Thank you, Bry. That means everything to me.” She reached for his hand and stroked his palm with her thumb. “We’ll work it all out, okay? But we won’t discuss it tonight. Let’s just enjoy each other.”

“You got it.” When Bryson cleaned up, he was devastatingly handsome, swiveling many heads. Danica liked when other women desired him because he was one hundred percent hers.

She gave him a seductive smile. “In fact, I want us to enjoy each other as soon as possible.”

Bryson chuckled. “You read my mind. Let’s go.”

When they entered the elevator, Bryson pressed the fifteenth floor.

Danica’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t…!”

He grinned. “I did. Wait’ll you see this kickass suite.”

The elevator doors opened, and Bryson led her to two double doors at the end of the hallway. He swiped his key card, and they entered a large, luxurious suite.

Danica wandered from room to room, admiring the decor. “Oh my gosh, this is fantastic!” Her eye was drawn to a round marble table with a large crystal vase holding pink and red roses. A tiny box with a card rested next to it.

She opened the card and read Bryson’s scrawl, “Marry Christmas.” A grin spread across her face. “You spelled this wrong.”

“No, I didn’t. Open the box.”

“What’s this, I wonder?” She feigned innocence, knowing darn well what it was. When she eased the top open, her heart turned somersaults as she gasped at a diamond ring with tiny rubies around it.

Bryson closed the distance, took the box from her, and lowered to one knee. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Bryson! Yes!” This is what she’d hoped for all along. It’s all she’d ever hoped for.

He stood and lifted out the ring. “Put this on. We’re officially engaged.”

“I hoped you’d propose this Christmas. This is the best present ever!”

“I plan to make love to you until the sun comes up. And at this time of year, that won’t happen till ten o’clock tomorrow morning!” His eyes sparkled with a come-on look.

Danica could hardly contain her happiness. She only wanted Bryson. Not his job or his money, only him. She moved to the wall-mounted TV and picked up the clicker.

“Here comes the fireplace channel with smooth jazz. Now strip and give me a lap dance.” She kicked off her stilettos and sat on the bed in her little black dress, breathless with anticipation.

Bryson laughed but followed her order, moving his hips and working each button painstakingly slow, like an exotic dancer at the Devil’s Club. When his shirt parted, Danica kissed his bare chest and abdomen.

She rose and slid her palms under each side of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. He stood in his expensive suit pants, like a disheveled billionaire. He even smelled like one.

“I’ve got to have you now .” Danica unsnapped and unzipped Bryson’s pants and shoved everything down. He stood naked in front of her as she took him in her hands and massaged him. She went down on him, and he rolled his head back and moaned.

Bryson moved close and lifted her to her feet. He buried his face in her neck while unzipping her dress. He teased it from her shoulders, sliding his lips down to her cleavage, then guided her onto the bed in her red pushup bra and thong.

He moved to the table, and she admired his cute, round butt as he lifted a long-stemmed rose from the bouquet and moved to the bed, straddling her. Bryson brushed the rose lightly up her stomach, circling her breasts, then brushed it around her face.

“You know what I like,” he groaned out, bending to lick below her earlobe, which drove her insane.

She sent him a cat-eyed look. “Oh yeah, baby. You like us both wet.”

“You’re beautiful tonight, but I want to do you in the shower.”

Danica choked back a laugh. Being married to a medical doctor required lots of shower time. Bryson got off on making love in the shower. It was their private, erotic place.

“We can’t let this humongous shower go to waste,” she purred, cradling his face in a sumptuous kiss.

They exited the bed for the roomy walk-in shower, and Bryson turned it on.

While they waited for the water to warm, Bryson unclasped her bra and kissed her breasts. He tugged down her thong, kissing the insides of her thighs, driving her even more insane. He slid the glass door open and edged her into the shower.

Danica wasted no time gliding her soapy hand over his smooth skin. She lathered his sexy chest and squealed with delight to see how hard and ready he was for her. She took him in her hands, sliding them along his slippery length.

Bryson closed his eyes and leaned into the action of her hands. He pumped a mound of lather into his palm and returned the favor, lathering her and taking his time down low with her center.

This practically undid her. It had been such a long time. Never had they made love with so much raw passion.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the tiled bench seat, eyeing the white, sudsy lather scudding down Bryson’s chest and abdomen.

He did as she ordered. She rinsed them both off before she straddled him. Ever so slowly, she carefully guided him inside of her. She moaned as she gradually took him in, and he lifted his hips to increase her pleasure.

Danica slowly moved up and down on him, loving how he felt. When she released, tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, blending with the shower water. Out flowed the stress, remorse, and guilt she’d carried after breaking her promises to Bryson.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he breathed in her ear while their bodies joined.

“Back atcha, Doc.” Her voice tremored, and he held her tight.

Nothing in Danica’s wildest dreams compared to the glorious combo of make-up sex, Christmas Day, and a marriage proposal—her resulting orgasm hurtled her through the entire Milky Way Galaxy—she must have orbited it several times.

When Bryson exploded, Danica felt his warm liquid swim inside her. Now that they were to be married, she willed his boys to swim up and gift her with bundles of joy. She figured, why not? They may as well get started creating a new family.

After they showered, Bryson carried her to bed, where they made love until neither of them could move.

“Oh Bry, I love you so,” she whispered.

Never again would she break a promise to her best friend and future husband. But more importantly, she would keep her promise to herself to get the help she needed to understand and control this problem that had plagued her for so long.

She wasn’t willing to lose the love of her life. I’ve got this, I know I do.

Bryson planted himself beside her, kissing her neck. “Next year, we’ll go to Sedona for our honeymoon. I promise.” He kissed her with such fiery intensity that everything else dissolved into forgiveness.

She broke the kiss to whisper, “I’m holding you to that promise.”