Wrapped Up for Christmas. Katlyn Duncan
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For anyone who can get the Christmas feels no matter what time of year or how hot it is outside. This book is for you.
The Christmas song blaring from the pocket of the man in front of Angie was the last straw. He turned off the ringer of his phone, but that was it for her. She hadn’t even reached the end of the jet bridge before heat surged behind her eyes for the dozenth time that afternoon.
Don’t you dare cry, Angie Martinelli.
At least not until she’d buried herself under the covers in the room she hadn’t slept in since high school.
A day ago, she had lain in her queen-sized bed with eight hundred thread count sheets. When she wasn’t in her apartment, she was in Brett’s California king, treating it like a twin. She recalled the firmness of his body, snuggling up against him—
‘No,’ she hissed, startling the family of four next to her. The parents tucked their children closer to them, away from the crazy woman talking to herself. ‘Sorry.’
The mother grabbed onto her daughter’s backpack and steered her into the airport.
Angie tried to take a calming breath, wanting to push Brett and his cheating self to the farthest reaches of her mind. She gripped her rolling carry-on bag and adjusted her handbag on her shoulder.
With her belongings accounted for, she swiped away a stray tear threatening to fall and dipped her chin against her chest as she made her way through the waiting area toward baggage claim. Angie was determined to keep everyone out of her business – even strangers. She was adamant that they weren’t going to see the tortured expression she wore on her face. As an only child, she prided herself on being a strong and independent woman.
Or at least, she used to.
Once she reached the food court, the scent of greasy cuisine filled her nose. Her stomach ached for something to eat; she had waited too long on the flight to get one of the prepared meals and they were sold out. Nothing on the plane went her way. She sat behind someone who reclined their chair the entire time and the three complimentary bags of chips did nothing to ease her emotions as her mind and stomach churned across the country.
Angie stopped in front of a pub and hesitated, thinking of her bank account. Dollar signs filled her vision for the charges she’d had to pay for the three extra suitcases she’d brought with her. Only one more deposit would come through her account for her severance pay and then nothing. She shook her head, her long dark hair swooping across her face. It clung to her damp cheeks as she tucked the stray strands behind her ears before heading to baggage claim. She could wait to eat until she arrived at home. No doubt her mom would have prepared a feast for her already.
As she followed the signs toward the first level of the airport, she managed to hold back the dam of tears that threatened to break. She was doing well until she saw a handwritten sign on lined paper which read ‘Aunty’ taped to the huge belly of her best friend standing next to the unmoving carousel.
Tears burst from her eyes as Angie sagged into Reese’s arms and sobbed against her shoulder. The ugly, snotty cry that only a best friend or mother could take without feeling utterly disgusted.
Reese patted Angie’s back. ‘Let it all out, girl.’
‘How was the flight?’ her husband, Jeremy, asked.
Angie choked out a laugh and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. ‘Hi, Jer.’
The tall and still handsome high school football champion of their day stood a few feet away, clearly freaked out by the tears coursing down her face. Ten years after graduating, he had aged well. His mother always said youthful genes were a blessing in their family despite the lighter strands now peppered throughout his jet-black hair.
Men had it so easy.
A flash of Brett’s blond locks and million-watt smile threatened to crumple Angie’s composure.
Reese flipped her caramel hair over her shoulder. It seemed smoother than ever. Reese had been over the moon when she found out what pregnancy hormones did to her body. Her warm brown eyes peered down at Angie, filled with concern and warmth.
Angie couldn’t imagine starting a family, never mind getting married, since her life was already over. The dramatics were unnecessary, but it was hard to think of anyone but Brett at the moment. He had been the vision of her future. Now what?
‘Why don’t you grab Angie’s bags?’ Reese said to Jeremy.
He backed away as if Angie was a bomb ready to go off.
Angie stood straighter and wiped her face with her sleeve again. ‘Do I look okay?’
Reese raised an eyebrow. ‘I mean, I could lie and say you look great.’
Angie snorted a laugh, and more tears streamed down her