Page 17 of The Christmas Romance Wish

Until right now.

Unexpectedly, my heart tugs.

But it can’t be because I’ll be alone for Christmas.

My pulse trips with Emmie standing in the doorway.

A thought whispers through my mind like a breeze through the aspen, leaving me confused.

I wasn’t looking for love until I saw it.

Emmie

CHAPTER 5

Setting aside my supreme display of awkwardness during the ride from the airport to the ranch, I settle into one of four cabins behind the main house at Eaglewood Ranch. It’s made of timber, skirted with stone, and capped with craftsman-style beams, and may as well be straight out of the pages of a home magazine.

The four cabins are like miniature, abridged versions—cubs of the big bear house. My cabin consists of two rooms, a main living area with a bed, chair, and table topped with a lamp. In the corner is a small pellet stove. Through a wooden door with old-fashioned iron hinges and a latch is a bathroom with a walk-in shower, a toilet, and a sink. It’s simple and sweet in a Snow White kind of way with buffalo plaid print curtains and matching bedding. Could be a writer’s retreat. My creative gears start turning—maybe I could make some author friends and talk to Alex about hosting an event here. Then I’d fall in love with one of my fellow writers and he and I could have our very own romance.

Who am I kidding? I only have eyes for the owner.

Okay, I don’t set aside the ride here, nor do I settle. Like my awe at Alex’s remote mountain retreat, I hyper-analyze our interaction, combing over every detail with my busy brain.

Did I have cracker crumbs on my lip from the single-servingpacket of cheese and cheddar squares, compliments of the airline? Were my hands clammy like I’d been trying to eat pudding with my palms moments before we shook hands?

It’s one thing to talk over the phone. In-person is another animal—ditch the letters A, I, and L and rearrange the ones that remain and you get the word MAN. And Alex is one big, brawny, built man. His voice is a magnet. His eyes too. Lips, ditto.

Forget the Crush Pose or Swoon Pose, I was in Ogle Pose, not to be confused with eagle pose, which I found Dylann doing one weekday afternoon in the living room when her yoga class was canceled due to inclement weather.

As if sensing I was thinking about her, she calls. I answer on the first ring.

She squawks, “Seasons Meetings! What’s he like in real life?”

I blurt, “I’m in love! I could shout it from the hilltops.”

“I called it! I saw you in the Crush Pose and I knew you’d fallen for him.”

Fumbling, my voice rises a few decibels. “Fallen for Alex? I’m talking about Eaglewood Ranch, not to be confused with Ogle Pose, I mean eagle pose.”

“What are you talking about? Did you slip and fall on the ice? Tell me you’re alive and I’m not talking to Emmie’s ghost.”

“No, but he did give me a ride on the luggage trolley. Nevermind. I’m talking about how beautiful it is here—I’ve fallen in love with Utah.” I go on to describe the property.

“Sure, and one of its residents,” Dylann says.

Like the surrounding mountains, Alex is solid and stoic, but there is also something wild and untamed about him. She continues to tease me about being in love with Captain America.

“My food delivery is here.” She greets the person with a cordial, “Seasons Eatings!”

“I’m going to let you enjoy that. Thanks for checking on me,” I say, ready to end the call and her interrogation.

“And I hope you enjoy Captain America. Bye, Doodles.”

There’s no denying that I’d like for there to be some chemistrybetween Alex and me. But if I know anything about Alexander Armstrong, after hearing his life story, it’s that he’s honorable. He’d never betray Ginny, and I’d never again want to be with someone who’d do something so heinous.

So, moving right past that, I’m going to enjoy my visit, get a snapshot of who Alex is apart from looking exceptionally good in his dark utility pants, and finish up the manuscript.

That’s the plan and I’m sticking to it. I unpack my toiletries.

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