Page 48 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
While most of the patrons in Martha’s headed toward the front of the restaurant, Jonah reached for Bronte’s hand and, with a nod from Vera, tugged her toward the kitchen door, which would lead them out.
Pushing out into the night behind the shops, Jonah led Bronte up to the boardwalk. A few others had the same idea to skip the crowded street and sneak up the boardwalk to the park. Lights from the ferry glinted off the black water. The last ferry of the evening would leave a little later than normal, allowing for the tourists to enjoy the Christmas tree lighting as the grand finale of the Christmas stroll. They made it to the park, and Jonah located the control booth—or a temporary canopy tent set up over a control board for the lights and music.
“Hello, again, friends.” Liam greeted them from where he stood over a nest of wires, all snaking their way to the main switch he was ready to pull at Dani’s signal. “Come in and find a place. I’m just triple-checking all the connections and settings to make sure we’re good to go.”
Jonah and Bronte stepped to the side of the booth, out of the way and free from the wires. “Do you need help with anything?” Jonah asked, pulling Bronte toward him. She sighed and leaned her head back to rest against his shoulder. He regretted asking Liam if he needed any help, knowing he’d have to move away from her.
Liam glanced up from the wires he was checking, a knowing smirk on his face. “I got it.”
Under the dim camping light Liam had set up near the control panel, Jonah studied Bronte. She had her eyes closed. Were the meds wearing off? He should have insisted they go back to the house. Bronte didn’t have a concussion, but walking around with a purple knot the size of a golf ball on her forehead couldn’t be comfortable. They needed to get more ice on it, although he supposed the cold air could be just as good.
Their conversation from earlier came back to him. His sister had him convinced his decision would break their father’s heart. But Bronte’s confidence that his family wouldn’t want to see him miserable—that being what would break their hearts—had stayed with him.
Was this a situation he couldn’t win no matter which way he sliced it? Would hearts be broken no matter what he did? An ache pressed behind his breastbone.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Bronte asked groggily.
Jonah shifted his arms around her to pull her closer, her presence easing the ache but at the same time replacing it with a yearning of a different kind. “How are you feeling?”
Bronte gave him a pointed look. “Don’t try and change the subject.” She faced him, the sudden space between them making Jonah want to shiver. If talking made her move from his arms, he’d be silent forever. “You’re thinking about your dad again, aren’t you?”
Could he be read that easily? “Maybe.”
Bronte gave him a ghost of a smile. “Jonah, you are going to have to talk to him. You can’t get out of it. You aren’t going to be able to sweep this under a rug or take it all on your shoulders. I don’t have a family, but one thing I know is that family is supposed to be there for each other. I’m sure after talking with your dad, you’ll be able to figure something out that doesn’t end in anyone’s heart being broken.”
Her words were balm on his tender soul. “How are you so wise, Bronte Parker?”
“Eh.” Bronte shrugged a shoulder, mouth lifted in a smirk. “You learn a couple things when you get to study many different families.”
“I’m sorry you don’t have family, Bronte. I’m sorry you were hurt.”
Bronte’s breath hitched. “It’s fine.”
Jonah reached up and pushed a rogue curl behind her ear, being careful not to touch her forehead. “No, it’s not.”
Tears swam in her eyes. He hated that he had some part in putting them there, but how could Bronte not see how amazing she was?
“Almost time, guys,” Liam called. Jonah saw Liam in his peripheral vision, leaning closer to the opening and listening to whatever Dani said in her bullhorn.
Jonah wiped a thumb under Bronte’s eye, catching a tear. Her eyes were smoke and glitter.
“Ten…nine…eight…”
Dani began the countdown, shouting through the bullhorn, the crowd joining in, but Jonah’s gaze locked on Bronte’s, the gap between them slowly disappearing. Jonah shifted his body, now facing Bronte. He encircled her in his arms, bringing her closer. Her eyes slid closed as his lips found hers. She tasted like chocolate and peppermint but somehow sweeter than any concoction they could find at Martha’s or anywhere else. Bronte turned in his arms, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her. He was a man dying from thirst, and she was the water saving him.
Jonah was vaguely aware of the Christmas tree coming to life and Liam laughing while muttering something about new love and make-out sessions moments before the soundtrack for the lighting also sprang to life.
But Jonah was completely lost in the spell Bronte cast.
And he was perfectly fine with that.
ChapterEleven
DateDecember 21
Days until Deadline13
Words to be written77,533
