Page 14 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
He glanced at the clock, tempted to call Martha and start making arrangements now, but he decided he didn’t want the ten-minute lecture for calling so late—even if Jonah knew she’d still be up. Maybe he could still have his Christmas surprise after all. “That might work. As long as the snow lets up and the ferry is running.” Jonah glanced back out the picture window—not that he could see much. With the lights on, the window had turned into a makeshift mirror of sorts. If the ferry wasn’t working, maybe Pete, the mostly retired pilot who now flew the air taxi, would be up for flying him over to the mainland.
After Jonah ended the call, he put the phone down on the counter and dumped the eggs onto a plate. He wandered over to the couch and flicked off the TV, which was now playingReturn of the Jedi. He didn’t feel much like watching anything, so instead, he pulled a book off his sister’s shelf. A blue cover, something about kisses and bodyguards. Holland had told him about this one. Something light and easy to read to help his mind wind down.
He sat down at the kitchen table, elbows framing his plate of eggs, and cracked the spine open. He lost himself in the book, and twenty minutes later, plate empty, he refilled his coffee and made his way to the couch. Holland had been right. This one was funny. Romantic comedy might not be the genre everyone expected him to read, but with four sisters, he read the same books they did so they could talk about them. They also returned the favor and read the Brandon Sanderson books he recommended—well, Holland and Amy did. It even seemed like Ruby, Amy’s ten-year-old daughter, was going to like fantasy as well. Mika Beth and Halle would rather shove pencils in their eyes.
He drained the last of his coffee, then put the empty mug on the side table, nose still stuck in the book. Tomorrow he’d figure out how to meet up with the rest of his family and leave Bronte to do whatever it was she’d planned to do alone.
Once he met up with his family, he’d figure out how to have the conversation with his dad—somehow without ruining the last part of his dad’s vacation.
Yep, it would all work out. It had to.
ChapterFour
DateDecember 16
Days until Deadline20
Words to be written89,973
Bronte’s eyes flew open.
Sunlight streamed through the window—a window that took her six point three seconds to realize wasn’t in her apartment. A few seconds more, she remembered why.
Jonathon Island. The place she was going to finish the Pike Family Saga.
Except that she wasn’t. She would be heading home instead becausesomeonedecided to show up for Christmas without telling anyone, and now she had to figure out how to get off this island and back home so she could finish her book on time.
No use delaying the inevitable. Maybe she’d get lucky and be able to sneak out without having to see Jonah. Something about him threw her off. She’d expected him to get angry that she was here and his family wasn’t. Instead, he’d let her stay and told her they’d figure it out today. But there wasn’t anything to figure out. There was no way she could get work done with someone else in the house.
Last night she’d been gung-ho to make him leave, but she couldn’t kick him out of his family’s house. It was on her to find somewhere else to stay, and staying on island sounded impossible. Martha had said everything was already booked and put the cherry on top when she’d told Jonah he couldn’t stay at the apartment over the clinic (whatever that meant) because the doctor renting it owned a cat.
After firing off a quick text to Mia asking if she could possibly get a ride back to the docks, Bronte threw on a clean pair of black leggings and an even blacker sweatshirt. She double-checked that nothing had been left in the antique dresser she’d so carefully unpacked into the day before, then she stuffed everything down into her suitcase and zipped it up. She just needed to make it back home so she could start writing.
Room packed up, Bronte stood, hands on her hips, surveying to make sure she didn’t leave anything. After a quick check in the bathroom, she heaved the suitcase up to her hip and tiptoed into the hallway. She practically held her breath as she made her way down the stairs, still hoping not to wake Jonah, not exactly sure where he’d landed for the night. It wasn’t until she got to the bottom step that she heard noises in the kitchen. She peered over the banister, down the hallway, and into the kitchen.
Jonah stood at the stove, dressed in gray sweatpants and a dark-blue shirt that strained against his muscles. It should be illegal to look that good in sweatpants. If Bronte wore the same outfit, she’d be labeled homeless, yet somehow on Jonah it just looked…right.
“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in here and get something to eat?” Jonah asked, never turning from the stove.
Bronte propped her suitcase on the wall next to the stairs so it wouldn’t fall over due to the missing wheel, then followed the scent of something amazing into the kitchen. She made it all the way to stand next to Jonah before she heard something fall behind her. Both she and Jonah turned to find her suitcase in the middle of the entryway. Good for nothing piece of junk.
Jonah looked at Bronte, one eyebrow quirked up. “Going somewhere?”
“You can’t expect me to stay here, and I’m not about to kick you out of your family’s house. I mean, you leaving would be the polite thing to do and all, since I’ve paid to stay here, but seeing as apparently there isn’t anywhere else on this island to rent, one of us is going to have to go. It might as well be me.”
Jonah’s warm laugh made her stomach dip.
“It’s not funny.” Panic rose in her chest at all she had to get done. “I have work to finish, and it’s not going to get done with me traveling all over the place. I’m just going to head home and work from there. It wasn’t the plan, but I’ll just have to make it work.”
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere.”
She hadn’t expected that reaction. “W-well,” she stammered. “That’s very nice of you. Did you find another place to stay until your family gets back?”
Jonah winced as he shook a jar of spice over the eggs and potatoes he was cooking. “About that…”
Bronte’s stomach clenched.
After setting the wooden spoon he’d been stirring with on the ceramic spoon rest, Jonah took Bronte by the shoulders and pointed her toward the picture windows. “I got ahold of my sister this morning, and after I got a lecture on keeping up with my emails—because apparently Mom emailed me about the cruise two weeks ago, which I completely missed—we figured out it would take a small fortune for me to fly out to meet them, so they told me to just stay here for now. They’ll be back stateside on the twenty-sixth. I’m planning on flying down and meeting them then. I’d get a ride back to the mainland and find a hotel there, but it looks like that’s not possible for the next couple of days at least. We’re a little stuck.”
