Page 29 of The Christmas Romance Wish

“Don’t say what?” But as soon as I ask, I realize it’s the abbreviation for a big misunderstanding she refers to. I chuckle. “I have to admit, our in-person meeting hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. But we can work on that.”

“Just in time for me to leave.” She puffs a regretful exhale.

I feel like reaching for her hand, squeezing it. Doing something, anything, to reassure her that we’ll probably meet again—maybe at a book signing. The publisher already talked about sending me on tour for the launch.

However, my internal battle continues with one side not wanting Emmie to leave. The other part hangs back, no longer sure where it stands because I no longer know who I want to win this fight.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I’ll probably come to the city during the release of the book. You can show me around. We’ll get bagels.”

“You’d come to the city?”

I once mentioned that I’m not a fan of concrete spaces and crowded places. “For you, of course, and because the publisher might make me.” I chuckle because no one makes this wild warrior do anything.

The pink shade in Emmie’s cheeks deepens. “All this time I thought you had a girlfriend. Now it makes sense that you didn’t want to mention Ginny in the dedication or the acknowledgments of the book.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Ginny is awesome, but that might bekind of weird. Maybe if I write a memoir about living on a ranch or out here in the country.”

As we exit the barn, Emmie calls, “Sorry for assuming the worst, Ginny. It was nice to meet you. Dylann would adore you.”

“You realize you’re talking to my horse.”

“And you don’t talk to her?” She elbows me.

“So, uh, Dylann, huh?”

“She has a thing for horses and wants to ride off into the sunset on one instead of a car after her wedding. Her fiancé isn’t a fan, so they’re compromising and doing a horse and carriage ride through Central Park.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I do say this time. “Dylann isn’t a dude?”

“No, of course not. She’s my roommate. Well, she was. When I get back to New York, we’ll both have moved out.”

I scrub my hand down my face. “I thought Dylann was?—”

Emmie’s peel of laughter echoes over the hills. “I won’t say it, but I think we both had the wrong idea. Like Sydney, Dylann’s name is neutral. She’s definitely a girl. So that means that we’re both...”

The word on her lips issingle, but she doesn’t say it.

We pause on the path toward the house.

Despite the sparse flakes of snow swirling and dancing around us, heat sneaks along my skin. My gaze hovers toward the middle distance, trying to resist landing on this beautiful woman with hazel eyes that I couldn’t have imagined if I’d tried. She’s no cave troll. Quite the opposite actually. I’m afraid if I lay down my weapons and surrender, that means I’m failing at my mission. If I shift course, I’m not sure what my objective will be, or what the standard operating procedure is. I’ll be flying blind.

But should I?

“Does this change things?” Emmie, eyes soft, surveys my face as if sensing the battle beneath the surface.

I call a temporary ceasefire and my gaze sweeps hers before they locktogether.

My voice is low when I say, “I was wondering the same thing.”

She glances at the Jeep parked in the driveway. A fine dusting of snow coats the windshield.

I snap out of my stupor. “Right. You have a plane to catch.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it as if she is about to say something but then thinks twice.

We get into the car and silence drifts between us.

Regretfully, I turn the key in the ignition.

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