Page 22 of The Christmas Romance Wish

I’m not overly keen about spending time on Coco Key. Too many memories. But I am looking forward to seeing my brothers even if they try to get me to wear a bubble wrap suit...and even if being together is sometimes harder than I’d like because of the intense pain of loss experienced by our family.

From my spot on the sofa by the fire, I give Alex a smile and a little wave.

His expression brightens then just as quickly shuts down. He seems to scowl as if I’m suddenly not welcome. Maybe he’s annoyed that his most esteemed guest wasn’t a team player anddidn’t join the hike, suffering in the cold along with him and the squad.

Does he notice his flannel, rumpled by my side? When he’s getting a glass out of the cabinet, I toss it away.

Is he aware that I didn’t work much today but let my imagination play?

Leaning against the counter, he guzzles the water in one long glug. His hands are large around the glass. His form fit and lean. His hair a little wild.

A sigh escapes as the fire crackles and pops.

Why did I decide not to hike? For several reasons.

Problem one: I don’t have any gear. Maybe Ginny didn’t want to share hers.

Problem two: These guys are built like human tanks with muscles practically coming out their eyeballs and I’m the opposite.

Problem three: I’ve fallen for the guy they call Lexman, so the less time we spend together is probably better, given the Ginny situation.

Hopefully, pink plastic flamingos don’t spontaneously appear on the lawn the way they would in Coco Key and expose me for accidentally falling in love with my co-writer.

The other guys are in the basement and must be taking off their hiking gear because their boisterous voices carry from downstairs. Alex fills a pitcher with ice and water for everyone.

“How’d it go?” I ask.

Alex sets the glass down and grumbles about something that I can’t hear over the running water in the sink. Maybe I missed the memo that I was supposed to don the Carnitas Cowboy’s chef’s hat and prepare dinner.

Or maybe I need a dose of reality and the reminder that romance and dreams are make-believe. Even though I mostly write nonfiction, my imagination easily gets carried away to fantasy land.

But like Santa in his sleigh, I get whisked away when Alexremoves his thermal in that over-the-shoulder enticing way guys do, revealing taut abs and tattoos before tugging down the T-shirt he has on underneath.

The story I should write is more along the lines ofOnce upon a time, Alex and Ginny were merrily dating, engaged, or married... Finding me here instead of her is a huge disappointment after an exhausting hike out hunting and gathering material for wreaths. They’d get their happily ever after, riding in a chariot off into the sunset while I remain in my brother’s penthouse tower penning and pining over unrequited love.

Just then, my phone rings. It’s Dylann.

I answer while gathering my things. With another little wave, I scurry outside to my cabin.

“Doodles, I need a full day two report.”

“I remained in civilization. Sort of. Didn’t go on the hike.”

“What do you mean? You skipped out on valuable time spent with Captain America? What’s Ginny like? Is she Miss America? Or is she a mountain cave troll? Please tell me she’s green and covered with warts.”

“No. There hasn’t been any sign of Ginny.”

“I rest my case.”

“The squadron of men hiked all day and just got back?—”

“You do realize, had you gotten tired, any of them would’ve happily carried you. That’s how mountain men are, you know.”

“What do you know about mountain men? You’re engaged to a guy in IT. When was the last time Jacob saw a mountain?”

“When we went to Disney after our engagement. We saw Magic Mountain.”

“That doesn’t count.”

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