Page 67 of The Christmas Romance Wish

“What about more than neighbors? I mean someday. Unless you think I’m too young.”

“You’re perfect and you got me to see the world in color again instead of drab gray.”

“Were you walking around with your head in a snow cloud?”

“More like I had to stick to a singular purpose instead of seeing the full picture, the colorful picture of what my life could be like with you in it.”

“I like this picture that you’re painting,” Emmie says, leaning close to me.

Me too. For so long, I was living in a moody, black-and-white photo. My life was drained of color because I saw so many lives shattered. So many non-reunions. I didn’t think there was room for love. For romance. Never thought I could be romantic. That it wasn’t for me.

Until Emmie.

Emmie

CHAPTER 17

Moonlight casts soft light into the room, forming panels on the wood floor. The snowy scenery outside the window glows.

After eating the breakfast Alex made, going to Wild Warriors HQ, delivering gifts, jumping out of the helicopter, meeting a World War Two veteran, going on a shopping spree, experiencing Holidayle at Christmas, ice skating, dinner, looking at lights, and decorating—yes, all in one day!—I should be exhausted. I ought to be able to close my eyes and fall into deep sleep. Instead, I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind swirling and whirling.

My brothers might claim that I’m stubborn, but I’m not above admitting that today was exceptional. Magical.

Alex made it so special. I almost want to tell him to take it back. That I can’t handle so much sweetness. But I’m Emmie McGregor, I can do anything. Even Christmas.

After years of avoiding the holiday, I suppose letting in a little comfort and joy isn’t so bad.

But tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Then what?

I should get on an airplane and show up on Coco Key with bells on. I should leave this little bubble with Alex, finish the manuscript on the flight, and wish him well. I should letgo of how deeply I miss my parents, the unintended abandonment, and my longing for things to have been different.

I should.

Instead, I want to do something for Alex. To demonstrate that I appreciate his thoughtfulness and care. I got him a present when we were in town, but it’s cheesy and I regret it. I should probably throw it in the lake.

What do you get the guy who has everything, er, a beautiful ranch in the mountains? You get him dinosaur taco holders calledTacosaurus. They were in a shop with a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I thought they’d be fun since we had tacos the first night I was here and the whole conversation about dinosaurs when he sided with CJ about them being superior.

At the time, I thought the gag gift would make him laugh. Now, I’m afraid we’ll both cringe. That’s the thing though, for being such a serious guy who’s been through so much, he has fun. And with him, I have fun. I haven’t smiled or laughed this much since Dylann and I met in college.

Nor have I connected this way with anyone...ever. Not with Tad. Not even close.

Also, kissing Alex goes beyond our mouths connecting and the feel-good sensations I experience. I’ve spent so much time falling in love with his voice and his lips on mine only deepen it.

Could he really be my mistletoe match? My Marry Me match? If I create profiles for us both on the app, would he appear in my “Partnership Prospects” envelope? Would he get five wedding bells, ticking off the boxes? Yes and yes.

Letting out a long sigh, I think back to the story my grandfather told me about how he met my grandmother—theirs was one of those love-at-first-sight situations.

What about love at first hearing? That’s one of the senses too.

Love at first scent and touch too.

Alex’s voice never fails to send those bah humbugs aflutter. When he says something as simple as,Heyall low and my name like it’s a secret he discovered in his rumbly tone, I all but have hearts in my eyes.

If Dylann accurately identified me as being in Crush Pose, what comes next? There’s the swoon, but then what? Is there a physical manifestation of love?

A fluttery sigh escapes and with it comes physical exhaustion. But my mind doesn’t calm or stop thinking about Alex and what he means to me.

It picks up and turns over the wordlove, pulls it apart, and reorganizes the letters. Somehow they spell his name.

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