Page 5 of All I Want for Christmas Eve

Chapter Two

I groan as the fire starts to flicker. “Is that really your name?”

“Scout’s honor,” Adam says cheerfully, making a salute across his heart. “Here, let me show you my ID.” He begins fishing in his pockets for his wallet, but then he frowns. “It must have fallen out in the plane. Or on the way over here.”

“I guess I will take your word for it,” I tell him, rising to my feet. “What do I need to get for first aid?”

“Just some kind of bandage to wrap my leg,” he says, rubbing his thigh. He glances at the table beside the armchair, where my empty hot cocoa mug was. “I could also use some of whatever was in that cup, and whatever was on that stick.

Moving forward, I collect the dishes and head to the kitchen to prepare him some cocoa. “Are you sure a bandage will be enough?”

“Yup. I will probably get some x-rays later, once I can find my way to civilization.”

“Does it hurt a lot?” I ask as I arrange a few reindeer cake pops on a small plate. “What about your head? I have some heavy-duty painkillers around here.”

He fingers the cut on his forehead. “This is just a tiny scratch. I’m a little banged up, but it’s not unbearable.” He looks at me suspiciously. “Why do you have heavy duty painkillers, Eve?”

That’s the first time he’s said my name, and it sounds really nice on his voice. I feel a slight quiver in my chest, and I realize that I haven’t heard the sound of a man’s voice in a long time. Other than talking to my father on the phone, and that’s not quite the same. Even my brother and I mostly text.

Hormones, calm down. You’ve seen a man before. You’ve heard one speak. It’s not that special.

“I spend a lot of long hours hunched over the computer desk,” I explain as I hunt in my kitchen for bandages. “My posture is horrible and I get a lot of headaches and shoulder pain.”

“I know where to get great deals on ergonomic office furniture,” he says. “I’ll hook you up with an amazing chair that will cushion your body so perfectly that you will never feel pain again.”

“That sounds really nice,” I admit with a sigh, rubbing my shoulder as I wait for the mixture of cocoa, salt and water to heat up. Once it boils, I whisk in some milk and vanilla essence, and pour it into a cup, garnishing the beverage with whipped cream, marshmallows, and a touch of sprinkles. I serve it to my unexpected guest, along with the cake pops.

He raises an eyebrow. “This is festive.”

“Yeah, sorry. My mother is very serious about Christmas. I guess it rubbed off.”

He cautiously sips the hot cocoa, and then takes a huge bite out of a cake pop. His eyes close. “Damn, Eve. My plane couldn’t have crashed in a better spot. I feel like I’m in holiday heaven.”

I turn around to hide my smile as I resume searching for bandages. I guess it’s lucky I was experimenting with food right before he showed up. Normally, I wouldn’t have had anything presentable to offer a guest. “Aha!” I exclaim as I hold up a roll of bandages, and some antiseptic. “Jackpot.”

“Did you make these?” he asks, demolishing a second cake pop. “They are divine. Are you a chef?”

“No, just a writer,” I explain, as I move over to gently disinfect the cut on his forehead. He stares at me the whole time, and it’s a little unsettling. I swallow. “Where is your leg injured?”

“It’s over here—don’t worry, I can take care of it myself.”

He puts down his plate and takes the roll of bandage away from me, lifting up his pant leg to tend to his wound. I step back, studying the bruises and wincing.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he assures me. “Trust me, if you’d seen some of the injuries my brothers have had over the years—this isn’t half bad.”

“How did they get injured?” I ask. I move over to tend to the fireplace again, throwing in a log so that I’m not staring at his exposed leg, which has turned various shades of black, blue, and even purple.

“Skiing, snowboarding, snowmobiling,” he explains. “They are thrill-seekers, but sometimes thrills come at a steep price.”

“Do they?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “I haven’t sought many thrills.”

He smiles, and it’s a little disarming how it transforms his face. “Excitement usually isn’t free. The best pleasure always comes with a little pain, Eve.”

The way he say this, with a twinkle in his eye, makes me clear my throat and turn away.

“For example,” he explains. “I had to smash my leg and crash a hundred-thousand dollar plane in order to find you and sample your delicious hot chocolate. So far, worth every penny and every bump and bruise.”

“Sure,” I say awkwardly, not sure what to do with all the flattery. I feel a little flustered. Adam seems confident, that’s for sure. The way he’s sprawled out in my favorite green armchair and made himself right at home. “What do you do for a living?” I ask him.

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