turn around, Evelyn is nowhere to be found.
“Evelyn?”
“In here,” she calls.
––––––––
E velyn
I wait in the kitchen with my hands behind my back. Foster turns the corner and approaches me, appearing completely exhausted.
“Long night, huh?” I comment, joining him at the kitchen island.
“Very.”
I press my chest to his. “You know, I haven’t forgotten about how you broke tradition earlier this evening.”
“What do you mean?”
Raising my right hand, I dangle the mistletoe between us. “You still owe me a kiss.”
“What I gave you earlier doesn’t count?” He wraps an arm around my waist. “I think I went above and beyond. I gave you more than kisses. Didn’t you like it?”
“I absolutely loved it, but that doesn’t count. You have to do it under the mistletoe.”
“Then, I guess it’s time to rectify the oversight.”
Sliding his hand up my arm, Foster holds the mistletoe with me above our heads. He gently seals his lips to my own, making my heart pound profoundly within my chest. I close my eyes and cherish the way he kisses me senseless, making sense of everything, like only he can do.
SPECIAL THANKS
T o all of my supportive friends, family, and readers—a little more time with Evelyn and Foster would have never been fathomed, if it weren’t for your love of them. Thank you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R enee Ericson is the author of More Than Water and the These Days series.
Originally from the Midwest, she now resides in a small town just outside of Boston with her husband and three children.
Most winters, Renee can be found on the slopes of the White Mountains skiing with her family. During the summer months, she likes to spend every spare minute at the beach soaking up the sea air. All those moments in between, she is talking to imaginary characters and caring for her children.