Page 78 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
Using the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she swiped at the sleep in her eyes and winced. The first thing she needed to do once she finished this draft was take a long, hot shower. Maybe Lexi’s shopping habit had more to do with the smell of her roommate than actually enjoying shopping.
She should text Lexi to pick up a couple of extra candles. Anthropologie was having a sale on her favorite scent. She shot a text off to Lexi while she waited for the water to boil.
Someone knocked at the door.
Or maybe Lexi was already home.
“Lexi, what happened to your key? Did you already lose?—”
Bronte opened the door to…NOT Lexi.
Blue eyes that haunted her dreams stared back at her. Blue eyes and dark hair that, even though it was cropped short, looked like fingers had been run through it more than once. He wore dark jeans, and his plaid button-up under his black coat was rumpled. He twisted a black cap in his hands, standing outside her door, chewing on his lip.
“Jonah?” Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Traitor.
“You left.” His eyes were haunted, as if having her leave had almost undone him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but Bronte wished he would pull her into his arms.
She needed to stop this. She was being ridiculous.
“I know I left.” She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel her toes. What was happening to her? “I had to.” She wanted to reach out and touch him, pullhiminto her arms, but she was afraid that he wasn’t actually there. What if this was just a figment of the little sleep she was getting, compounded by stress of the deadline?
“But we didn’t get the chance to talk about what you told me.”
“There was nothing to talk about, Jonah. No amount of talking can change it.” The teakettle whistled, and Bronte let go of the door handle and turned to walk to the kitchen.
Against her better judgment, she waved Jonah in over her shoulder. Maybe he would come in, or, more likely, he’d just turn into a wisp and disappear, just a wish. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jonah push through the door. Her heart leaped.
Maybe this wasn’t a dream. She pinched her arm. Ouch. Nope. Still awake.
“Are you pinching your arm?”
“What are you doing here?” Bronte asked. “And how did you even find me?”
“My sister had your address from the rental paperwork.”
“Oh.”
This was a terrible idea. There was nothing to talk about. Bronte had said all she was going to say on the matter.
“I told you we needed to talk,” Jonah said, making his way toward Bronte, slowly taking in her apartment.
Thank God Lexi had tidied up before she’d left this morning. Bronte turned to take in the mess of takeout boxes still littering the coffee table, the throw blanket tossed half-heartedly over the back of the couch, and random balls of paper that were strewn about that Bronte had wadded up when, in desperation, she’d switched from typing on her computer to writing scenes out.
Okay, so maybe she’d onlythoughtLexi had cleaned up. Bronte turned back to her tea so she didn’t have to look at Jonah.Keep your eyes off Jonah, and maybe you’ll get out of here with your heart intact.
“Do you want some tea? Or Lexi might have some coffee around here somewhere.” Bronte opened the cabinet, looking for the coffee she knew Lexi had already finished. She froze when she felt him behind her.
She turned into Jonah’s firm chest and took a step back, bumping into the kitchen counter. Jonah leaned a hand on either side of her, trapping her in the circle of his arms. He leaned down so they were eye to eye.
“You left.”
Bronte focused her gaze to the ceiling, refusing to look at Jonah.Keep your eyes off him, Bronte. “I said all I needed to say.”
“I didn’t.”
Her eyes flashed to his. Mistake. “I can’t give you ki-kids. I can’t gi-give you the big family you deserve.”
“I only want you.”
