The Christmas Romance Wish (Love, Laughs & Mystery in Coco Key #5)

4. Alex

Alex

CHAPTER 4

Waiting at the entrance to the airport, situationally aware of my surroundings as usual, a woman with long dark blond hair exits the terminal and looks around.

My pulse trips. I almost do a double take because it’s been a while since I’ve found someone so attractive. She teases her bottom lip with her teeth as she searches the crowd on the sidewalk.

She has to be Emmie. Please let her be Emmie.

Her gaze drifts toward mine and we connect. Even from this distance, I lock on her hazel eyes. Her lips curve upward and she marches toward me.

Target acquired.

Instead of having her in the crosshairs of my reticle, arrows volley and puncture me in the chest with every step she takes.

Something inside explodes, but instead of blowing me apart, it warms me through.

They say love hurts, but these projectiles are more of the marshmallow variety.

My focus funnels toward the woman wearing a stylish wool winter coat that reaches her mid-thighs, dark brown leather boots that hit below the knee and have a slight heel, and a black scarf that drapes around her neck. She has long lashes, a dainty nose, and lips that are like two plump sugar plums.

The tempo of my pulse changes, kicking with a song and dance. “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” to be exact. Or maybe that plays in the background of the airport entrance. Possibly for the first time in my adult life, my surroundings turn fuzzy.

I’m not sure what comes over me, but like in the movies, when two long-lost lovers reunite in an airport scene, I stride toward her, arms wide, prepared to sweep her off her feet, spin her in a circle, and then close with a warm embrace.

A few feet away, she pauses and asks, “Alex?”

I understand what her roommate meant when she commented about the way I said her name. She probably used it early in our phone conversations, but with caller ID, we know who’s calling without having to be formal about it. She rarely says my name, but when she does so now, she wears a wide smile.

Her voice sounds the same as it does over the phone but seeing the words coming out of her sugar plum mouth hits different.

Stopping myself from racing toward her and acting like a fool, I ask, “Emmie?”

Her eyes sparkle and she nods, continuing her approach.

Taking a few steps closer, I open my arms as she extends her hand to shake. The bag over her shoulder slips down and someone bumps into her luggage cart. We have an awkward and poorly choreographed moment where neither one of us knows what to do.

Jesse and Paxton would verbally kick me in the teeth. Never do I waver from being in command...except right now.

Coming to my senses, I hold out my hand for Emmie to shake. Her palm slides in. It’s soft and warm. I do my best not to get lost in the green flecks of her hazel eyes, I let go before the handshake gets inappropriately long .

As if sizing me up, Emmie’s gaze trails up the length of me. “You’re tall.”

Nodding, I say, “A few inches over six feet.”

Long eyelashes kissing her cheeks, she looks up at me and says, “I’m a few inches over five feet. My brothers got the height gene.”

“I wasn’t sure what to expect. After all the time we’ve spent on the phone and emailing, it’s nice to finally put a face to your voice.”

Her cheeks shade pink and I wonder if she knows I overheard her roommate’s comment. “I’m surprised a guy like you didn’t run a full background check.”

“Nah, I had a feeling you weren’t a cave troll.” And that feeling is getting more confusing by the moment as the sticky marshmallows continue to sail my way then quickly turn into obsidian when I realize what I said.

“A cave troll? Well, I do sometimes disappear into the writing cave.”

I chuckle. “Can’t wait to sit down with the manuscript.”

Emmie cranes her head, peering around as if looking for someone. “You’re alone. No female companion?”

“Sorry, about the last-minute transportation change of plans.” Hopefully, Jesse and Paxton finish getting everything ready for tonight and don’t set any practical jokes. “Sydney has one of those neutral names. But I can confirm that he’s a dude. Used to be on the SEALs with me. He never uses his blinker, so maybe it’s for the best I picked you up.”

“No mountain woman?” Emmie asks.

“You mean a cave troll?” I say, glad she’s being a good sport about my weird comment.

Jesse and Paxton would be rolling with laughter right now at how dumb I’m acting.

Emmie’s forehead momentarily ripples with confusion then she says, “She must be waiting in the car.”

I’m not sure what Emmie means. She must be tired from the day of travel. Time to get my head on straight and get us on the road. Reaching for her luggage cart, our hands brush.

My pulse trips again, sending a surge through me. “I can take this for you.”

“Oh, thanks.” She gazes at her feet as if suddenly shy.

Much like the start of our last conversation, things between us are slightly stilted as if now that this moment of meeting in person has finally come, we need to recalibrate how we relate. Eyeing the luggage cart, I can fix that with a Lexman icebreaker.

“Can I take your other bag too?”

She wears an impish grin and holds it away from me. “Can I trust you with the bagels?”

“The precious cargo. Thanks again for grabbing them.”

We both laugh and hers is even better in person.

I say, “I’m parked in the garage over there. Hop on.”

“Hop on what?”

I point to the cart. “Get on. I’ll give you a ride.”

“That’s probably against airport rules.”

I shrug, ignoring real and imaginary rules. I want to hear her laugh again. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not so sure...”

“Have you ever been to Utah?”

She shakes her head.

“In Hawaii, new arrivals typically receive flower leis. In Utah, we give our guests rides on luggage carts.”

Emmie grins and looks around to make sure the security guards aren’t watching. I sense her laugh hurtles closer.

“Come on.” I tip my head toward the cart.

As if used to being coaxed into shenanigans by her brothers, she climbs atop the bags. Holding tight, I grip the handle, then I race toward the parking garage. Her giggle is like the tinkling of bells.

After crossing the street, I push off with one foot. I place the other on the luggage cart and then ride along with her down the aisle of the parking garage toward my rig .

When we get to my Jeep Rubicon, kitted out with all the overland gear for winter, we’re both slightly out of breath and smiling.

I unlock the passenger door and hold it open for her.

“My brother has a Jeep, but last I checked it doesn’t have a roof or doors.”

“That works for warmer climates. Here, we need full protection from the elements. But I like your brother’s vehicle choice. I have one like that too.” I wink.

Emmie blinks with surprise. “Wait. It’s just you and me?”

“And the bagels. The guys are going to love you.”

Her gaze brightens as she buckles her seat belt.

I hustle to the back and stash her luggage, scolding myself for my choice of words. When I get in the driver’s side, I say, “I mean they’ll appreciate you for bringing the bagels.” Once more, I’m not sure what comes over me. Time to refocus on my breathing. It doesn’t help that she fills the cabin of the Jeep with the scent of vanilla marshmallows.

As I maneuver out of the parking garage, an airplane takes off overhead.

I ask, “How was your flight?”

“A little bumpy over the Rockies. Actually, a lot bumpy.”

“I appreciate you making the effort and putting up with the turbulence.” I regain my bearings and our conversation smooths out. I tell Emmie about the weekend workshop. “Figured it would help to finally meet in person so you could see me in action. Well, this iteration of my work. You know, to round out the book—the whole ‘show don’t tell’ concept.”

Sensing her eyes on me, I wish that I had taken the extra ten minutes to shave.

“As a writer, I know that one well.”

The thought that I like what I see floats into my mind, but I do my best to leave it behind as we get on the freeway.

As dusk settles and we leave Salt Lake City behind, Emmie and I talk about the states we’ve visited and the rest on our respective lists to get to all fifty.

“A big one for me is to visit Alaska,” I say.

“I’d like to go there someday too. It’s about as far away and different from where I grew up as possible.”

“Do you camp much? Hike?”

She laughs softly. “That would be a no.”

“So, you’re a city girl.”

“Through and through, at least these days.”

“I neglected to send you a packing list, though I don’t suppose you have much in the way of hiking gear.”

Glancing at Emmie, a smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “Do sugar shoes count?” Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn rosy. “Don’t mind me. Just putting my foot, er, my shoe in my mouth. I wasn’t altogether practical when packing.”

Not going to lie, I wouldn’t mind seeing her in sugar shoes, whatever they are. I drag my gaze back onto the road ahead.

Having worked so closely with Emmie for the last nine or so months, the image of her I had in my mind was more small-town girl and less city girl, but I don’t mind. Not one bit. She’s sweet like sugar from head to toe.

“I’m sorry for not mentioning the hike. We don’t go too hard if you’d like to join us. We can get you outfitted. Tricia was supposed to come, but her son had a lacrosse tournament so she canceled. So, it’ll just be you and us guys.”

“And Ginny.”

I chuckle. “I’m not sure she’s up for the ruck.”

“I have four brothers, so I’m comfortable around guys.”

She’s mentioned them a few times but doesn’t talk much about her family.

“Tell me about city life. What am I missing out there in the concrete jungle?”

She laughs. “Peppermint mochas.”

“Are you kidding? We have those at the ranch.” I have no idea if that’s true or what the ingredients are.

“You do? ”

“It can be arranged.” I wink, overwhelmed with the desire to acquire whatever it is that’ll make Emmie have the perfect visit.

She bounces a little in her seat. “Seriously? I’ll love you forever if you—” She cuts herself off. “I mean, I’m kind of addicted and when you said we’re going hiking, my first thought was how will I survive without my late afternoon peppermint mocha?”

I chuckle.

I can’t help but wonder why the word love is so loaded that when we both used it, we instantly backpedaled.

“The guys and I have spent a lot of time roughing it, so we indulge in a few creature comforts like really good coffee nowadays.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the city has its drawbacks and its dangers. I’m the little sister, the baby in the family, and my brothers are crazily overprotective of me. So much so that I escaped to the city to live my life where they can’t track my every move to make sure I’m safe. They hate that I live there. I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned around one day to discover a security detail following me.”

As the Jeep climbs toward the mountain pass road, forget the bagels, Emmie is precious cargo. With every second I spend with her, my desire to protect her grows. The idea of someone so sweet and gentle living in the city makes me want to join her brothers in the fight to protect her from evil...and guys who’d so much as look at her the wrong way.

Leaving the glowing lights of Salt Lake City behind us, we approach the last turnoff before we reach Frosthold Gap which leads to the valley where I live. “The town is that way. If you were staying longer, we could visit. I bet you’d like the market they host this time of year.”

“I’m not big on the holiday madness, all the fuss, and craziness.”

“Me neither, I suppose.” In fact, I haven’t taken the decorations I inherited from my grandmother out of the attic yet.

A little farther on, we go through the gate to my property. “ Here we are. Dale, former special ops who became a blacksmith, forged the sign.”

“Eaglewood Acres,” Emmie reads.

“Home sweet home.”

At the end of the long, meandering driveway, flanked by bushy cedar and other evergreens, sits the main house. Smoke billows from the chimney—Pax and Jesse each have places in Holidayle, but I’m glad to see they kept the home fires burning. The snow blanketing the surrounding hills glows in the rising moonlight.

“You’re quiet. Though, I guess that’s how it is out here. You get used to it,” I say, not sure whether she’s terrified to be this remote in the country or if her expression is wistful.

“Breathless, is more like. It’s beautiful.” Emmie’s lips pull into a smile.

“I haven’t had a chance to get the Christmas lights up yet.”

“Good,” she mutters.

That’s an unusual response, but perhaps that’s because she appreciates the natural beauty. Stealing a look at Emmie, I sure do.

But I have to get into “Go mode.” I have a group of men to lead this weekend and have to keep things professional. Put this surprising attraction on lock. Stash it in the safe with other things some deem dangerous. Feelings aren’t on the punch list as I build my business.

Hands off, soldier.

Emmie is the kind of woman who could add a little sugar and spice to my life and I can’t afford that right now.

Eyes up, officer.

Anyway, I’m being an idiot because there’s no way someone as sweet as Emmie would be interested in a guy like me. She’s seen all my wounds and scars, well, not in real life but the invisible ones. I’ve laid it all bare for her these last nine months while we’ve been co-writing.

Parking outside the garage, I glimpse Emmie’s wide eyes, taking in our surroundings. They fill with wonder and something else.

“Wait’ll you see the property in the daylight. We’re supposed to have good weather...” I trail off as we exit the Jeep.

Emmie’s boots crunch on the ground as I unload her bags. She turns in a slow circle, taking in our surroundings.

“You look like you’ve never seen snow before.”

“I’ve seen it a few times, but I grew up on a tropical island.”

That’s news to me.

“I didn’t see the real stuff until I was eighteen and went to college. Usually, in the city, by the time I get outside, it’s turned to slush.”

And so has my inner resolve. The reality of Emmie being here all weekend doesn’t only have my pulse tripping, it’s a live wire. I can’t fan these flames. Time to be Iceman. Lexman. Impervious to outside forces. My focus must remain singular—lead the group on the winter ruck and that’s it.

Emmie’s breath puffs in the cold as she speaks, wafting her vanilla marshmallow scent my way. “It’s like a blank piece of paper, waiting for a story to be told.”

I waver and say, “Then it’s perfect for you.”

But I can’t let her be perfect for me.

She’s younger for starters. Innocent. Petite, but surprisingly strong as she hefts her bag before I get a chance to help. It’s like she grew up wrestling alligators or her brothers. Maybe both.

I open the door and gesture for Emmie to enter first. “I hope you like it here. It’s home.” A place I fought long and hard for.

She wears an appreciative smile, but the faintest hint of sadness pierces her eyes as she looks around with something like longing.

When we enter the main part of the house, she mutters, “I thought I was looking for a life in the city, but this changes things.”

Her gaze traces the series of windows that reach the cathedral ceiling, the river stones surrounding the massive hearth, and the open floor plan that’s both airy and cozy, modern and rustic, masculine yet refined with custom details in the mudroom, the entertainment area downstairs, and the sauna cold plunge combo along with an outdoor spa.

This place is my oasis.

Usually, I’m happy to be here solo.

Until right now.

Unexpectedly, my heart tugs.

But it can’t be because I’ll be alone for Christmas.

My pulse trips with Emmie standing in the doorway.

A thought whispers through my mind like a breeze through the aspen, leaving me confused.

I wasn’t looking for love until I saw it.