Page 4 of The Mistletoe Bluff
I wanted to call out to her, wanted to see those blue eyes and try to make her smile, but the face she made when she told me she didn’t want to see me again flickered in my mind and froze my feet to the earth.
For some reason, Maya hated me, and I despised it because I had had a massive crush on her since the first day I met her. I had signed up for that photography class on a whim to continue improving my skills, but I hadn’t counted on meeting a beautiful woman that made my heart stutter whenever I saw her.
She was talented and determined—I had never seen someone light up the way she did behind a camera—and her quick comebacks whenever I teased her made her even more endearing. Maya was whip smart and I loved it.
And that last day of our class, when I hadaccidentallytripped her, and she ended up falling in my arms…I couldn’t get the feel of her in my embrace out of my head.
Oh, and up until recently, I lived in England too. That always put a damper on relationships.No one enjoyed the whole long-distance thing.
I hadn’t had any interactions with her since she told me to leave her alone when the class was over. Heck, I’d never had any actual conversations with her at all aside from when I teased her. I couldn’t help it…it was too much fun to push her buttons.
And, if I were honest with myself, I wasn’t the best at talking to people unless I was behind a camera. It was another unfortunate side effect of being under my father’s thumb for too long, forcing me to see people as rivals when they weren’t. That,unfortunately, translated into teasing and bothering Maya when all I wanted to do was talk to her.
Never did I imagine it all would end in her hating me, though.
The falling snow and the cold faded into the background as I stood there watching her. All I could focus on was Maya and how much I missed seeing her face after spending the last few months back in England. I had followed her social media accounts for a while—with her skill in photography, who wouldn’t? But for some reason she quit posting weeks ago, and I was dying to know how she was doing.
As much as I wanted to get to know that brilliant, smart, gorgeous woman hiding in the field, I also didn’t want to disrespect her wishes or make her uncomfortable.
With a sigh, I turned to climb back in my Jeep and my boots slipped on a patch of ice. I slid forward, struggling to get my feet under me, and fell against her car door, the metal button on my coat squished between my body and the car.
It made a horrendous squealing noise as I continued to slip on the ice and tried in vain to stop sliding around. When the ice finally had mercy on me, and I was able to stand without further slippage, my stomach gave a mighty lurch at the sight of the damage I’d caused.
The good news: I didn’t fall on my bum.
The bad news: Maya’s car had broken my fall.
My chest squeezed. This was the last thing I needed, another reason for Maya to hate me. I ran my gloved hands over my coat, thinking. What was I supposed to do? Should I face Maya and apologize? Or did I take the coward’s way out and make a run for it?
As much as I wished to see her again, this wasn’t how I wanted to do it.
I opened the door to my Jeep and searched the interior for anything I could use. A white napkin stuck out of the side of the center console, and I snatched it, followed by a pen, and wrote a quick note. I tried to keep it short and concise, not wanting to give away that it was me until I needed to.
I scribbled my number at the bottom and then stared at the white scrap in my hands. I was a coward to run away, but at least I offered to pay for the scratch. That was still the responsible thing to do, right? Maybe adding a happy Christmas sentiment would ease the blow.
I winced.Probably not.
Running a hand over my face, I blew out a breath, then shoved the napkin onto her windshield.
As I crawled back into my Jeep, sparing a glance at Maya who was none the wiser to what I had done, I pulled away from the field feeling like the worst sort of person.
I left a ridiculous noteon a napkin and shoved it under her windshield wiper.
Then fled the scene of the crime.
Please don’t hate me, Maya.
Surely, she’d call me, want me to pay to have the car doors fixed. Any sane person would…right? I could only imagine what her reaction would be when she found out I was the one to damage her car.
A shaky breath worked its way out of me, and I banged my head against the headrest as I drove through the snowy roads toward my townhouse.
This was not how I pictured spending Christmas in Meridel.
Maya
That’ll be two thousand dollars.”
My jaw hit the floor. “Excuse me?”
