Page 91 of A Newport Christmess

“Oh, and Landon ...” Nikki’s voice paused me mid-flight. “Instagram recommended I follow an account that, strangely, looks like it belongs to you, except it’s private and it’s only following one other account. Do you know anything about that?”

I grimaced. “Maybe.”

A slow smile spread across her lips. “You’d better accept my request to follow you, especially if you’re planning to post any photos like the selfie Quinn posted of the two of you. It was beyond gorgeous.”

And just like that, a weight slid from my shoulders. Nikki knew about the end of my social media boycott and was happy for me. Now, I hoped seeing Quinn would have a similar effect in lightening my load.

TWENTY-TWO

LANDON

Quinn’s door was closed when I got home, and I decided, instead of interrupting her, I’d hurry and get ready for the rehearsal dinner myself. That way, if she finished early, we could find a little time to talk. I was eager to see how the afternoon with my sisters had gone and to attempt a non-committal approach at inviting her to spend Christmas with my family. And possibly, if timing and circumstance permitted, see if she would tell me what was bothering her earlier.

Oh, and most of all, I was dying to see her in her new dress.

The motivation to be there when she came out had me setting a new personal record on getting ready. But she still hadn’t emerged when I came out of the bathroom in my slacks and button-down shirt with a gray blazer worn over it. I neared the door and listened, but I couldn’t hear anything. I typically prided myself on my patience, but after a few more seconds of just standing there listening, I rapped my knuckles lightly on the wood.

“Just a minute.” The mere sound of her voice sent my heart racing, and when I heard her walking toward the door, I was gripping my hands in fists at my sides, trying to get a hold of my nervous energy.

The doorknob turned, and then Quinn was standing there, looking like a deity in a mid-thigh, white dress with a low V-neck and short sleeves. The gold thread that made geometric patterns on the fabric perfectly matched her golden hair that was pulled back in a wavy mass at the nape of her neck. A few tantalizing curls hung around her face.

I swallowed, trying to find the words. Any words. “Wow!” My voice came out breathless, which made sense but sounded ridiculous.

“Is it too much?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

“No. You look ... I don’t know if there’s a word to describe it.” My thoughts were still taking a moment to compute. “Wow! Again. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but had I known what those oversized sweaters were hiding ...” I pressed my eyes shut. “That didn’t come out right. I just mean ... It’s probably best I didn’t realize that ...” I huffed. Words were hard things.

“Smooth, Landon.” Anthony leaned out of the room behind me like some sort of judgmental, eavesdropping Casanova. “What he means to say, Quinn, is you’re absolutely stunning, and he’s the luckiest guy alive.”

Quinn laughed. “Thanks for the translation.”

“Let me know if he has another brain lapse, and I’ll do my best to interpret it.”

“Very funny,” I said, sending a scowl over my shoulder in time to see Anthony disappear into our room again. “But yeah. What he said.”

Quinn made a point of looking me over. “You look very handsome yourself.”

“Thank you.” I hesitated at the threshold of the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The same guarded expression from earlier flitted over her features, but she nodded and took a step back, allowing me into the room.

I closed the door behind me. “How was spending the afternoon with Nikki and Julie?”

“Your sisters are too sweet. I really enjoyed myself. We were at Rosecliff long enough to see the florists decorating around the gingerbread houses. All the flowers are white—ranunculus, roses, muscari, and these little white blossoms. I think they called them waxflowers, but I could be wrong. With all the greenery and the pinecones, it was exquisite. And I didn’t even see it finished.”

“I look forward to seeing it tomorrow.”

“I did feel bad that Nikki paid for my dress and shoes.” She lifted her hands to show me the tops of them. “And my nails. She said it was her thank-you gift for everything I put up with.”

“I am a lot to deal with.”

Quinn laughed. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned the last-minute gingerbread fiasco, but you’re not wrong.” She stopped, her teasing smile still in place. “Want to see the shoes?”

If Quinn wanted to show me, then I wanted to see. “Absolutely.”

She hurried toward her closet, then turned back toward me, a pair of strappy gold heels in her hands. “Aren’t they glorious? I’m not very practiced in heels this tall, but they were surprisingly comfortable when I tried them on, so hopefully, I won’t embarrass myself and break an ankle or trip in front of everyone.”

She took a seat on the edge of my bed and slipped her foot into the shoe. I watched, transfixed as she buckled it around her petite ankle. How had I never realized how sexy putting on a shoe could be? How many missed opportunities had there been? By the time she was buckling the second, I forced my gaze away, far too aware of how I was staring like she was the source of all happiness and good things.