Page 28 of The Christmas Romance Wish

I cock my head after the odd conversation at the bonfire last night.

Clearing her throat, Emmie says, “I mean, it was a big misunderstanding. Can we just tap rewind like an audiobook? Speaking of, have you decided if you’re going to record it in your voice or have the publisher pick someone?”

Bumping Emmie with my shoulder, I take a risk, “What was your friend saying about my voice on the phone the other night?”

“Can we delete that too? Emmie’s Most Embarrassing moments are starting to stack up.”

“Embarrassing moments? Please tell me the guys didn’t share any with you.”

“No, they respectfully refrained. My guess is the threat of a hundred pushups is more like double that. Military math.”

I can’t help the grin that lifts my lips. “So, what was the comment about my voice? Hmm. Let me think. That’s right. It was, ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the phone, Doodles. You didn’t tell me his voice was like that. And the way he said your name?—’”

Emmie hides her face in her hands. “You memorized what she said?”

I tap my temple.

“That means you probably also remember word for word what I said last night.”

Scrunching my nose I say, “Nah. I was focused on making sure Pax kept his distance.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I didn’t—” It’s then I realize why Emmie was reluctant to meet my horse. “Wait a second. Who did you think Ginny was?”

Yep, this was a major BM. A big misunderstanding.

Alex

CHAPTER 8

Patting Ginny’s flank and making sure she has everything she needs since I’ll be gone for the better part of the day, I catch Emmie eyeing my horse. Her gaze narrows with suspicion as if she expects the animal to morph into a human woman.

Her comments over the last few days about Ginny make a bit more sense. Sort of. But was she jealous? Trying to keep distance between us because she assumed I was taken?

I feel like repeating,Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold the phone.

“Who did you think Ginny was?” I ask.

Emmie hesitates then says, “Your girlfriend.”

I bark a laugh. “My girlfriend? That’s hilarious. Haven’t had one of those in a long, long time.” I am not romance material.

“But you talked about her all the time and—” She flits around, pacing a circle, and making me dizzy.

“Very much no. No, Emmie. The horse is not my girlfriend. Nor do I have a girlfriend.”

“But you?—”

Gripping her upper arms so she comes to a stop, I shake my head, wondering why she’s insisting I’m mistaken about the horse and actually have a girlfriend named Ginny.

“But nothing. Ginny is my horse. I love her, I guess, if a guy could love a horse. She’s special. But not, uh, like that.”

Relief washes over Emmie’s features and her lips move as if she wants to continue to question and object, but forces herself to remain quiet.

Dropping my hands, I say, “How about we just call this a big misunderstanding and then forget it ever happened?”

Eyes as big as saucers, she shakes her head this time. “Don’t say it. Whatever you do, don’t say it.”

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