Page 59 of Take Me Home for Christmas

He turned and smiled in gratitude. Not just for her comment, although he appreciated that her praise was genuine. What he felt was a profound wonder that after months of dreaming about it, their relationship was finally more than “just friends.”

Not only that, but she was sexy as hell seated cross-legged on the chintz loveseat that used to be in his grandparent’s living room. From his angle above her, he had a bird’s-eye view down the V-neck of her soft sweater. The sweater was decorated with Santas complete with puffy beards. All Hayden saw, though, was her soft, creamy skin. Just a peek at the top of her breasts had the zipper on his jeans growing painfully tight.

Her hair was piled up in a messy bun. A single strand stuck to her cheek. The dark circles beneath her eyes had disappeared, only to be replaced by a glowing warmth in her cheeks.

She had her laptop balanced on her thighs, typing away at one of the blogs for Chances Inlet, he assumed. Her bottom lip was shiny from her chewing on it while she wrote. He had to work to keep himself from turning into a Neanderthal and ravishing her right there on the sofa where his grandmother used to sit and watchWheel of Fortuneevery night.

“Is that for my brother?”

Hayden was grateful for her question. It redirected his thoughts to more appropriate ones.

“It is. With its leaf, it will seat eight. Seems like overkill for a kitchen table.” He shrugged. “I guess they’re planning on a family the size of yours.”

“It’s weird to think of Gavin not living in his loft,” she said. “I mean, it was the prototype for the lofts he became famous for building in Tribeca. Now, he’ll be living on a golf course ten miles outside of Chances Inlet.”

“Considering he never intended to return to Chances Inlet at all, I’d say that him living ten miles away isn’t so bad.” Hayden swept the sawdust off the big table. “Come to think of it, none of your siblings ever wanted to make their home in the town where they grew up. Yet here they all are.”

It was her turn to shrug. “After they all made a name for themselves,” she said, dashing the kernel of hope blossoming in his chest.

Beula weaved around his legs as if to offer some comfort. Or to urge him to keep pressing her. The cat was fickle most days.

“You never planned on returning home, either,” Elle challenged.

She wasn’t lying. His plan was to head to Oregon after college to train with the elite distance runners. Hopefully, go to the Olympics. He’d come back to Chances Inlet for one of those cheesy parades after he won a medal. Maybe they’d name the high school track in his honor.

Instead, he was sent to a dusty, dangerous hellhole. Then to Texas to rehab his body and his mind. Returning to Chances Inlet felt like paradise after all he’d been through. Eight years later, it was the place he felt the most comfortable. Safe. No one asked him about his trauma. Best of all, he knew what to expect most days. Some people might call it boring, but Hayden wore that predictability like a suit of protective armor.

“We both had goals once,” he remarked.

She snorted. He was a perv because he found the sound to be incredibly sexy.

“Not me. Remember? I couldn’t come up with one besides making my family proud.”

“Your family has always been proud of you.”

“But not for something I’ve accomplished.” She held up her hand to stop his protest. “West called me a nepo baby when we first met. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. My reputation is based on the achievements of my family. The Fab Four. Is it so wrong to want to make a name for myself as Elle McAlister? Not just as one of ‘the McAlisters’?”

He shook his head. “You are making a name for yourself as a journalist. You already had several freelance articles published nationally when you were in college. You’re about to become a lifestyles columnist atVantage. What am I missing?”

“It’s more about whatI’mmissing.” Elle sighed. “I’m not like Kate and Miles who knew what they wanted to do with their lives on the first day of kindergarten. Or Ryan with his ridiculous athletic ability. Or even Gavin, who made being a math geek cool. There was never anything that I justhadto be doing to make myself happy.” She shrugged. “Writing has always come easy to me. But it was just something I did, you know? Tell stories. It’s not like I’m contributing to anything big in the grand scheme of things.”

He growled in frustration. “Your letters were the only things keeping me sane most days,” he told her. “When I was deployed and . . . those long months after.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “You never told me that,” she whispered. “You barely acknowledged that you even got them.”

Hayden walked over to the file cabinet he kept in the corner of the workshop. He pulled open the bottom drawer and took out an old shoebox. She had risen from the loveseat and stood right behind him when he turned around. He lifted the lid.

Elle gasped. “Are those my letters?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She fingered the envelopes carefully. “I—I . . .” Her eyes were shiny and stunned when they met his. “You kept them? All of them?”

“Yeah. I liked to reread them on days when . . .” Words failed him. There was only so much vulnerability he could show her.

On days when I didn’t want to try anymore.

On days when it felt like you were my only friend.

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