Page 66 of The Christmas Romance Wish

She nods. “Gram had one, but I don’t know what happened to it. I’ll go through the boxes tomorrow. But before we turn in, let’s go outside for my favorite part.”

Emmie’s expression is quizzical, but she follows me closely, instantly shivering.

I hold her close as we view the house and tree aglow. “When I was a kid, my favorite thing was to see people’s trees lit through the window. It was always so?—”

“Cozy and inviting?”

I nod as the question I was going to ask Emmie while under the mistletoe forms on my lips.

She trembles, hugging me close.

“Thinking about the tropics?” I ask.

“No, but I should get my ticket. I’m lagging because going to Coco Key is one step closer to returning to New York. The more time I spend here, the more I think I’m done with city life.”

“What might that mean for us?” I ask, close to proposing.

“You mean the book? It’ll get done. I promise. I’ve never failed a co-writer.”

No. That’s not what I meant. My spirits plummet. Maybe we’re not on the same wavelength.

Emmie shivers again.

“Let’s head inside.”

She stands in front of the fire for a solid five minutes. “We should wrap all those gifts for tomorrow, Santa.”

“Okay, Mrs. Claus.”

“Miss McGregor to you.”

“Not Your Majesty…”

Emmie laughs. “No, I think I’m retiring the crown. Trading it in for some antlers.”

My spirits rise. “Does that mean you want to stick around here?”

“I’m thinking about it.” She picks up the rolls of gift paper and we go downstairs to use the pool table for our wrapping station.

I wonder if she’d like to be Mrs. Armstrong. “You might say that we started as pen pals.”

“Modern pen pals with email.” She peels price tags off the items we purchased for kids.

I cut a piece of gift wrap covered in gingerbread houses. “Then we started texting.”

“Until we finally spoke on the phone.”

That day comes back to me vividly with her telling me how excited she was to work together and put me at ease with some of the more challenging content we would explore given my special ops and sniper history.

“We’ve known each other a while,” I say, folding the side of the wrapping paper.

She sticks down the tape. “If I lived close by, maybe we could have a few more adventures.”

“I like where this conversation is going.”

“What would you think about us being neighbors?” She steps closer to me.

I nod. “I’d be good with that.”

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