Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set Gigi Blume (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

her wide eyes and soft lips. A beautiful ache bloomed deep in my belly. I needed her. Not just physically. I needed her always and forever.

I searched her features, taking a snapshot of this moment. Burning it into my memory.

Then she grimaced, eyes rolling back and nostrils flaring. Was I off-putting? I made sure to brush my teeth before we left the house.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, breaking the mood. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She frowned. “Do I look that bad?”

“No,” I blurted. “You don’t look bad at all. You look...beautiful. I mean, you made a face and I thought maybe you were about to sneeze.”

She blinked at me, confused. “That was my kiss me now face.”

I stuttered, not certain I’d heard her correctly. “Y-y-you want me to...”

“Kiss me.”

My heart leaped in my chest, galloping thunderously.

Yes, Ma’am!

I cradled the nape of her neck, angling her luminous face up to meet me and lowered my lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss—surrendering her whole being—breathing life into me.

An overwhelming desire came over me to protect her, cover her, shield her. Give her everything within my power to give.

My lips explored hers with slow, savoring caresses. Sweet. Gentle. She let out a little whimper. So responsive to my touch. I wrapped my arm around her waist and drew her to me, keeping her close to my chest. It’s where I wanted her to live. Pressed against my heart for all eternity.

She slid her fingers under my coat, clinging to the fabric of my shirt. Delicious heat coursed through my veins, thick as molasses and I needed more of Georgia as a lifeline or my heart would certainly stop. I kissed her deeply, ardently, reverently. I felt her hand roam against my chest, passing my collar and through my hair. There, her delicate fingers traced the back of my neck sending delightful waves of electricity over my skin.

I was ready to declare my love right there and then.

Georgia was everything sweet and wonderful. Perfection. My joy was complete in her—a feeling so intense my heart cracked open. I could have danced and laughed and cried out in agony all at once. This feeling that could only be described as love was the most exquisite torture all summed up in a kiss.

The Cathedral bells chimed the half-hour, clanging loud and strong. I softened my hold on Georgia and nipped her bottom lip once before breaking away. We rested our foreheads together and caught our breath, listening and waiting for the last bell to echo across the distance.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered, my voice a deep rumble. “Almost.”

She smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

The heat from the fire was delightful and cozy. I didn’t want to walk away from our bubble of warmth but my family expected us to join them soon. I was tempted to text Palanca to tell her we would miss the service but Georgia tugged my arm and urged me to hurry. She didn’t want to be late.

The church was incredibly beautiful, as it was every year. The Christmas trees inside were lit for the first time in the season indicating the end of Advent and the beginning of Christmastide. They were decorated simply with only white twinkle lights and nothing more. Candles and poinsettias adorned the altar and gold draperies were hung along the walls. It was a sight.

But it didn’t compare to the fireworks going off in my heart. I was hyper aware of Georgia’s presence beside me on the pew. Her face lit up from the moment the organ played the first note. She was enthralled with every aspect, especially the music. The choir sang majestically backed by a full orchestra for Handel’s Messiah. Georgia’s fingers played along on her lap, drumming out the piano part by memory. I rested my hand on my knee palm up—an invitation to quiet her nervous energy. She abandoned her air piano and knit her fingers through mine. An indescribable joy flooded my chest and a goofy grin spread across my cheeks, staying there all through the rest of the Mass. I was sure I frightened the priest when I went up for communion.

The sappy, ridiculous expression remained plastered on my face until we returned to the house. Vicky’s the one who pointed it out to me.

“What’s wrong with you, weirdo?” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Then she shuffled off to bed. Reeses greeted us as soon as we walked in, bouncing at our feet, frantically wagging his tail. I scooped him up and scratched behind his ears to make up for leaving him behind.

Dad was impressed with Georgia. Then again she was the embodiment of charm and had Dad eating out of the palm of her hand with just one kiss to the cheek. He winked at me and mouthed She’s a keeper.

Palanca retired to her old room with Sophia, who’d zonked out in the car on the way home. She was too young to understand the whole Santa thing. Next year she’d be hard to get to sleep.

Mom prepared the trundle in Vicky’s room for Georgia and warned us not to stay up too late before leaving us alone. Georgia and I sat by the fireplace after everyone had gone to sleep, listening to Christmas music at a low volume. I knew we had an early start in the morning, but I couldn’t tear myself away from her. She was effervescent in the glow of the crackling fire and the red chili pepper lights on our tree. It was good to be home for Christmas. And with Georgia, it was the most perfect Christmas I could hope for.

We curled on the sofa watching the fire dance to the soft music, whispering to one another and laughing at all our adventures. Every time she smiled I captured her mouth, pressing her lips with sweet kisses. She was the one. I was certain of it, more than I had ever been sure of anything in my life. It took every