Page 86 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“I do.” The truth settled over me and some of the tension knotting my shoulders released. “I really do.”

Esther held my eyes and whatever she found there seemed to make her happy.

“In that case, I won’t be kicking your sorry arse. Instead, I have a plan.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Good. Now is the time for groveling. I’ve spoken to her best friend, Jessica, and I have some ideas.”

“I’m all ears. Let’s do this.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rosie

It was Christmas Day, and everything hurt.

I’d slept poorly through the night, wanting to curl onto my side, but the dull ache from my ankle made it awkward to do so. I’d taken one look at my back in the bathroom mirror yesterday and winced at the bruises that had bloomed across my skin. Even worse was trying to navigate around the tiny flat on my crutches. There wasn’t much room between furniture for me to maneuver, so I’d largely just stayed in bed, feeling sorry for myself.

Yes, I’m aware that’s dumb. I was lucky, the puffin was saved, and I had a cool new job and a new life in Scotland. But I hadn’t heard a word from Alexander, had no idea if he’d even read my note, and I was in pain. So,yes, I was allowed to pout. And today was Christmas, everyone was with their families, and I’d lied to the Book Bitches about having plans. I was going to hole up under the covers and watch a movie marathon depending on what I could stream on my laptop. I’d just managed to make my way back from the bathroom and had pulled myself back under the covers. Propping myself up on the pillows, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes.

This was just a bad day. It wasn’t a bad life.

My ankle would heal, the Christmas season would pass, and I would have better days.

But today? Today everything hurt. Including my heart.

The speaker in the shop flipped on and began to playAll I Want for Christmas is Youby Mariah Carey. I sighed. Moira had been good about not playing that song too much, but it did feel like a punch to the gut now that I was sitting here, single and lonely, on Christmas Day.

“Rosie?”

My eyes flipped open. Alexander.

Damn it, I was in a stained oversized Sponge Bob T-shirt and my hair was likely greasy and matted to my head. I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes.

“In here.”

Alexander appeared in the doorway, looking warm and wonderful and so sexy he took my breath away. His dark hair gleamed with a few droplets of rain, and he wore a chunky sweater and dark jeans. I wanted to hug him.

“Hey.” I waved. “Sorry, but I just got back in here. I’m not getting up.”

“That’s all right, hen. I’ll come to you.” Alexander disappeared and returned with one of the velvet chairs, carrying it to my bedside. Dropping it next to the bed, he sat and simply looked at me.

The silence drew out until I wanted to squirm and just when I was going to break it with awkward conversation instead of asking the real things I wanted to know—like, do you still want to be with me?—he spoke.

“Your face is bruised.”

“Oh yeah, caught a rock on the side of my face. You should see my back.”

“Bad?” Alexander winced.

“Let’s just say the rocks won.”

“And the ankle?”

“It’s nasty. It’s going to take a while to heal, I’m told.”

“I’m sorry. What were you doing down on the beach?” Alexander’s eyes never left mine, as though every word mattered.

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