Page 43 of Take Me Home for Christmas

Aunt Kitty actually squealed before she bent down to kiss his cheek. The pleasure he felt at giving her a morsel of joy after years of sorrow made his chest tight.

“I need to grab some supplies,” she called as she dashed out of the coffee shop. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Well, this just got interesting,” Xander mused.

“Going head-to-head with West over gingerbread?” Hayden scoffed. “Puh-leaze.”

“I meant that Elle is coming this way. And it doesn’t look like she has coffee on her mind.”

Hayden glanced out the window. Sure enough, Elle was marching across the town square with fierce determination in every step. She hadn’t bothered to pull her hair back and the ocean breeze was having a field day. It was almost comical how much she looked like a cartoon princess storming into battle. Once she grew closer, however, Hayden could see the dark shadows beneath her eyes. There was nothing funny about them.

She’s not sleeping.

Something was up. He shot up from his seat and strode toward the door.

“There he goes again,” Xander declared.

Hayden ignored him as he hustled outside. He intercepted her near the town’s Civil War cannon. Someone had put a wreath around its muzzle. Not that he noticed. His only concern was for the woman standing in front of him, battling the strands of her hair as the wind blew them onto her face.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

She huffed out a breath. “You’re not answering your phone.”

He patted his pockets down. “Shit. It’s still in my gym bag. I’m sorry.”

“Apologize to Livi. She’s the one who needed to speak with you. She wanted you to know she’s too sick to make the contest.”

“I heard.”

Elle slapped her hands against her thighs. “Great. My job here is done.” She spun on her heel and headed back the way she came.

Hayden should have let her go. He should have returned to the warmth of the Java Jolt and the camaraderie of his friends. His cappuccino was calling his name. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t.

“Belle, wait.”

ChapterEleven

“Belle, wait.”

That was the last thing she wanted to do. It had taken every ounce of pride she had to come into town to find Hayden. And it wasn’t like she had a lot of pride on tap after he’d run away from her not once, not twice, butthree. Freaking. Times.

If Livi hadn’t been so despondent—and Elle’s mom so insistent—Elle would have stayed in the safety of her suite, licking her wounds. There was only so much rejection one woman could take, after all. Especially from the person she never thought would hurt her.

Except Livi was a bit of a force of nature even when she was feverish. She’d insisted Elle make the trip to locate Hayden and deliver the message in person. “He’s going to be so disappointed,” she’d moaned.

It pained her how much that was likely true. Still, she didn’t have the heart to let the other woman down. Livi-of-the-awesome-shoes hadn’t done anything wrong. Except, perhaps, capturing Hayden’s attention. And maybe making him fall for her.

Elle sped up, trudging quickly down one of the side streets.

“Dammit, Elle.”

Of course he caught up to her. Even wearing his carbon fiber leg, the man was faster than most. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. She wanted to shake his hand off, but even through the fleece she wore beneath her down vest, she could feel the sizzle of his touch.

He must have felt it also because when she glanced up at his face, his blue eyes were as dark as the sea during a storm. She panted out a breath. His nostrils flared.

A car drove by, startling them both. Hayden glanced around before gripping her arm tighter and tugging her in the direction of his place. They were both breathing hard when he unlocked the side door and guided her inside the sunny kitchen.

Hayden’s paternal grandparents owned the weathered two-bedroom bungalow for more than fifty years before moving to an assisted-living community further inland. They’d deeded the little home, its extensive workshop, and their cat to their only grandson when he returned from active duty.

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