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Alex knew the name but wasn’t familiar with the area at all, so rolling along its posh streets was a welcome adventure. Twinkling fairy lights blinked from the windows of candy-coloured terrace houses and quaint shops peddling on-trend jewellery and clothes.
As the Vespa slowed, a flapping black and white awning above a large shop window on her right stole her breath—Biscuiteers! The café famous for its exquisite hand-iced cookies, like the heart and bird-shaped treats Mark had bought for their second anniversary. So sweet…he must have remembered me saying I wanted to visit!
He parked along the curb and pulled off his helmet, his hair pointing in all directions. He peered over his shoulder with a mischievous smile, looking ridiculously adorable.
“You did good, babe! I could murder some cookies.” Alex eased her leg over the scooter and gasped at the festive window display of a gingerbread Santa riding a whimsical cookie train around a colourful—and edible—North Pole.
“It’s adorable! The website doesn’t do it justice. Let’s go inside!” She bounced over to the door. “Oh, noooo! It’s closed…shut at six.”
“Yeah, for everyone else. I arranged extended hours—just for us.” He waved at the woman inside, who promptly opened the door. “Hey, Evie, thanks so much.”
The smiley brunette nodded. “Great to meet you, Mark. Please come in.”
He gestured for Alex to enter first and followed close behind. The shop manager quickly locked the door, preventing the Frank Sinatra holiday classic crooning through their speakers from escaping on the evening breeze.
Alex’s wide eyes darted from the blue and white tissue flowers and snowflakes dangling from the ceiling…to the red bows and fairy lights hanging from the framed mirrors in the seating nook…to the twinkling lights hugging the tree. This café didn’t just do Christmas; it was Christmas. The disappointing dark tree in Trafalgar Square was already forgotten.
“Evie, this is my girlfriend, Alex.”
“Welcome to Biscuiteers, Alex.” The manager grinned. “Please make yourself at home. We have some treats and hot chocolate with marshmallows prepared for you on the table, and if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs. I’ll leave you to enjoy.”
“Thank you!” Alex’s eyes flew around the boutique, its vintage feel welcoming and warm and inviting her to explore. So much pretty. “Where to look first?”
Mark laughed and kissed her on the temple. “Take your time.”
Phone raised, she left Mark’s side and began photographing the beautiful gingerbread houses. Next were the cute snowmen, reindeer, and ice skate biscuits.
She pointed to a familiar blue, green, and pink lovebird anniversary tin. “Mark, maybe we could get this one again? Enjoy them together in front of the TV…?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled.
She skipped back to him, her eyes dancing with delight. “This place is my new Christmas favourite.” She turned away and snapped a few more shots of snowflake biscuits. “It’s a dream come true.”
Festive Frank gave way to a sweet ballad on the shop’s speakers. It wasn’t Christmassy, it was old…and familiar…
Alex spun around. “Mark, isn’t this that song—”
Mark was down on one knee…arm outstretched…an opened velvet box in his hand with a dazzling diamond ring, sparkling under the shop’s vintage chandeliers. His eyes barely blinked, brimming with excitement and hope.
She gasped. Oh. My. God. He’s doing it…! Her hands rushed to her mouth. “Mark!”
He took a deep breath. “Lex, I’m just an actor who reads other people’s words. Most of the time, I don’t know what to say without a script…but tonight, the words are all mine.”
Tears began to glisten in her eyes.
“I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you, Mouse. No matter where I am, what I do, you’re always in my heart.” Mark’s smile grew. “You’re the writer, darling girl. So, I’m hoping you’ll help me write a new story—the story of us. Alex Sinclair, will you hop on, hold tight, and enjoy the ride with me…for as long as we both shall live?”
“Yes!” Alex beamed through her tears. “The answer’s always yes!”
Mark laughed. “That’s my line, Mouse!” Tears shone in his eyes as he stood up, and he barely made it to his feet before Alex lunged to squeeze and kiss him.
“Not so fast.” He licked his lips and removed the ring from the box. “May I?”
Alex, face wet with tears of joy, gave Mark her left hand.
“Lex, this is Mum’s ring, the one Dad gave her when he proposed…”
He slipped on the white gold band with its pretty half-carat diamond. The brilliant gemstone, along with two delicate Celtic love knots hugging it on either side, caught the Christmas tree’s fairy lights and glittered on her finger.
