Page 95 of Merry Mended Hearts

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. The woman said she talked to Junie about it, and Junie told her that any time anyone hears music come from the radio, strange things happen in their lives. Some of them ended up married.”

“I know. I’ve heard the stories my whole life. But marriage is a normal thing.”

“The events themselves are normal enough. But the circumstances?” Lacie had claimed a snowman had pronounced her and Jared husband and wife, after all.

That was anything but normal.

“Junie tried to convince me of this, too.”

He lifted his head away from mine, and this time, though he didn’t move much from me physically, I felt the distance increase in other ways.

“We’re in the mountains, Grace,” he said with a crooked smile. “It snows here.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t regular snow. The music…”

He shifted on the bed, shaking the mattress beneath us. “Even if a magical song we both happened to hear is exerting the forces of nature to bring us together, that doesn’t mean we don’t have a choice.”

“Maybe,” I said. “And maybe not.”

“What does that mean?”

“I only took my notebook out once at your cottage, Boone, and then I put it right back again. I’m not sure how it got left there, let alone how it ended up on your dining table of all places for you to read.”

Had the Santa magic been behind that? For some reason, Santa Claus—wherever he was—believed we should be together. Who was I to argue with Santa and his enchanted radio?

I tilted in to kiss Boone’s cheek, but he only frowned at me. “So you’re saying you don’t think you have a choice in this? You’re just going along with it because you think a radio should dictate your life?”

I couldn’t figure out this change in him. “Why is this bothering you so much all of a sudden? I thought you said you were a believer.”

Boone’s eyes closed. He exhaled long and hard. “I’m such an idiot. What are we doing here?”

He was upset by this? I retraced our conversation, wondering where things had gotten off.

“What’s wrong?”

He slid off the bed. The floorboards creaked beneath his steps as he paced toward the door. His shoulders hunched, and he paused to rest a hand on the wall and speak over his shoulder.

“I am. I believe in magic, Grace.That’sthe problem.”

“How can that be a problem?” Things were slipping from my grasp, too rapidly for me to understand. He’d said he knew we only had tonight. Why was he pulling away again?

“I’m such an idiot,” he said again.

I pushed off the bed and strode toward him. “You’re not an idiot. Tonight has been amazing. I don’t get what the problem here is.”

“I’m an idiot because I forgot.”

“You forgot what?”

“About magic. About this between us.”

My brows snapped down. “What’s wrong with this between us?” I’d been floating on clouds since he’d blazed in on his snowmobile. I’d been trying to soak up as much time with him—and as much of his kisses—as I could.

What was so wrong with that? Did he regret this?

He raked his hand through his hair. “We’ve been pushed together by a magical radio, Grace. I’ve been able to fight off feelings for every other woman for three years now, except you.”

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