Page 73 of Merry Mended Hearts

Not until I held Grace.

One tick at a time, my body relaxed. I stretched my legs out beneath the quilt until they reached the coolest part of the mattress—a sensation I loved. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling while possibility floated before my eyes.

CouldI love again? Could I feel this—take in full breaths, smile, hold her, want her?

I wasalivewith Grace. I didn’t realize just how much of my time was spent going through the motions. But buying her that ornament, taking her out in the sleigh, working to get the horse in the barn, cooking, everything with her made my blood beat with purpose.

It was as though my heart pulsed for the first time, until the flicker of light in her eyes and the softness in her smile made me want to never let her go.

But Grace lived in Arizona. She was leaving. It was stupid and reckless to put my heart on my sleeve again, not when attaching myself to her now would only end in more heartbreak.

I had to keep my distance from her. I had to go on eking out my fraction of a life. No radio or Christmas magic was going to change my mind.

GRACE

When I woke up,my thoughts were blazing like the fire in the hearth. I stretched my arms and legs, burrowed in the blanket Boone and I had shared during our kisses last night, and searched for my notebook.

The ideas wouldn’t stop. It was all I could do to turn to a blank page before my pen took on a personality of its own. It was as though the pen was connected to my brain and had become an IV, dripping ideas onto the page.

I wrote about snow. I wrote about an unexpected storm and the devilish elven king whisking the princess into a cave to protect her. I wrote about his secret feelings and his inability to keep them in any longer, what with being in such close quarters.

She got frostbite during their travels, so he snuggled, keeping her warm and whispering the deepest longings of his heart into her ear when he thought she was sleeping.

It turned out she heardeverything. And she rolled over in his arms and said,“Your soul speaks to mine like you speak to me now. With a whisper.”

The elven warrior’s eyes blazed with fierce desire. His hands slid to her face, and the touch was fire, blazing through every frozen part of not only her body but her regard for him, until he was all she wanted. Some underlying truths came to light about the events leading up to her kidnapping. She realized the elven warrior, once thought to be evil, had been protecting her instead.

And as he brought his mouth to hers?—

“You look like you’re in the zone.”

My pen slid across the page. The slice of ink across the white surface severed me from my fantasy world. I blinked up to find Boone standing near the dining table holding a pair of tongs.

“Aw, right before the kiss,” I said, slumping back with a pout.

I tried to draw the moment back to me, but I looked at Boone. His eyes glimmered at me. He was no longer in pajama pants—and while the sight of him shirtless would be imprinted in my eyelids forever, he wore a long-sleeved, red, flannel shirt.

His hair was wet and tousled, and a fresh brush of scruff shaded his jaw line, making my mouth water.

Slowly, pieces of reality began to seep into me, bringing the part of my brain I’d been able to tune out to reality. The warmth emanating from the blazing fire in the hearth, the scent of bacon sizzling from behind him. My stomach grumbled hungrily.

“What was that about a kiss?” he said.

“Oh.” My cheeks heated. I tapped my pen against the paper. “I was just in the middle of writing one.”

A handful of beats passed. My pulse pounded in my ears. He said nothing, standing stiff and unresponsive for so long, I worried I’d said something wrong.

Maybe I’d imagined the change between us the night before.

“That smells amazing,” I said, placing the notebook back into my slouchy bag.

I’d have to finish that kiss later. When I didn’t have an audience.

“Thanks. We still have no power, but I was able to get the stove lit.”

“It pays to have outdated appliances,” I said, rising to my feet.

Leaving the blankets behind, I trotted through the side door and into the frigid wasteland that was the back of the cottage. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I came back.

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