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

5. Emmie

Emmie

CHAPTER 5

Setting aside my supreme display of awkwardness during the ride from the airport to the ranch, I settle into one of four cabins behind the main house at Eaglewood Ranch. It’s made of timber, skirted with stone, and capped with craftsman-style beams, and may as well be straight out of the pages of a home magazine.

The four cabins are like miniature, abridged versions—cubs of the big bear house. My cabin consists of two rooms, a main living area with a bed, chair, and table topped with a lamp. In the corner is a small pellet stove. Through a wooden door with old-fashioned iron hinges and a latch is a bathroom with a walk-in shower, a toilet, and a sink. It’s simple and sweet in a Snow White kind of way with buffalo plaid print curtains and matching bedding. Could be a writer’s retreat. My creative gears start turning—maybe I could make some author friends and talk to Alex about hosting an event here. Then I’d fall in love with one of my fellow writers and he and I could have our very own romance.

Who am I kidding? I only have eyes for the owner.

Okay, I don’t set aside the ride here, nor do I settle. Like my awe at Alex’s remote mountain retreat, I hyper-analyze our interaction, combing over every detail with my busy brain.

Did I have cracker crumbs on my lip from the single-serving packet of cheese and cheddar squares, compliments of the airline? Were my hands clammy like I’d been trying to eat pudding with my palms moments before we shook hands?

It’s one thing to talk over the phone. In-person is another animal—ditch the letters A, I, and L and rearrange the ones that remain and you get the word MAN. And Alex is one big, brawny, built man. His voice is a magnet. His eyes too. Lips, ditto.

Forget the Crush Pose or Swoon Pose, I was in Ogle Pose, not to be confused with eagle pose, which I found Dylann doing one weekday afternoon in the living room when her yoga class was canceled due to inclement weather.

As if sensing I was thinking about her, she calls. I answer on the first ring.

She squawks, “Seasons Meetings! What’s he like in real life?”

I blurt, “I’m in love! I could shout it from the hilltops.”

“I called it! I saw you in the Crush Pose and I knew you’d fallen for him.”

Fumbling, my voice rises a few decibels. “Fallen for Alex? I’m talking about Eaglewood Ranch, not to be confused with Ogle Pose, I mean eagle pose.”

“What are you talking about? Did you slip and fall on the ice? Tell me you’re alive and I’m not talking to Emmie’s ghost.”

“No, but he did give me a ride on the luggage trolley. Nevermind. I’m talking about how beautiful it is here—I’ve fallen in love with Utah.” I go on to describe the property.

“Sure, and one of its residents,” Dylann says.

Like the surrounding mountains, Alex is solid and stoic, but there is also something wild and untamed about him. She continues to tease me about being in love with Captain America.

“My food delivery is here.” She greets the person with a cordial, “Seasons Eatings!”

“I’m going to let you enjoy that. Thanks for checking on me,” I say, ready to end the call and her interrogation.

“And I hope you enjoy Captain America. Bye, Doodles.”

There’s no denying that I’d like for there to be some chemistry between Alex and me. But if I know anything about Alexander Armstrong, after hearing his life story, it’s that he’s honorable. He’d never betray Ginny, and I’d never again want to be with someone who’d do something so heinous.

So, moving right past that, I’m going to enjoy my visit, get a snapshot of who Alex is apart from looking exceptionally good in his dark utility pants, and finish up the manuscript.

That’s the plan and I’m sticking to it. I unpack my toiletries.

The ride from the airport took us toward the mountains and as the sky opened, it somehow lifted me out of a mire I didn’t realize I was in. The second we passed under the Eaglewood Acres gates, I was in stunned awe. The moon was bright, the trunks of the aspens glowing, and the sky layered with more stars than I could wish on in one lifetime. It’s a hideaway perched atop a hill and surrounded by mountainous terrain and forest.

When Alex welcomed me home, sadness threatened to spill from my eyes. Sure, Coco Key is where I grew up and the Driftwood Resort is where I lived, but it never quite felt like home. Being with my brothers is sweet and warm and wonderful, but it doesn’t have that home-sweet-home quality. I didn’t recognize the depth of my longing for it until I got here.

It’s not out of the realm of possibility for us someday to be neighbors. Maybe Ginny and I could be friends.

Before Chip died, he signed a lot of his wealth over to me along with several properties. I still can’t wrap my head around any of it, yet another one of my secrets and something I avoid, but I’d like a place like this. Even with the snow and winter and remoteness.

I’ll learn to make peppermint mochas.

Probably.

After freshening up, I head back to the main house for dinner and the Wild Warriors Winter Weekend Retreat meet and great—though by the savory scent wafting from the grill on the massive deck that spans the back of the house and overlooks the valley, my guess is the emphasis is on meat .

Bundled up, I follow a lantern-lit path bordered by almost a foot of snow to the house. Before Alex showed me to the cabin, he gave me a brief tour of his house with a fully finished basement, and some bunk rooms down there for the guests to his events.

It glows and the silhouettes of a few guys playing billiards through the big glass doors prompt me inside rather than going all the way to the front.

Have I mentioned it’s cold? I won’t be going on the hike tomorrow and will stay back in the cozy cabin to get some work done...with a steady stream of peppermint mochas.

When I enter the house, the two guys playing pool stop what they’re doing and stand at relaxed attention.

“You must be Emmie,” one of them says, holding out his hand for me to shake.

“Lexman’s most esteemed guest,” the second adds with a dramatic bow.

“I’m Jesse and this is Paxton. Ignore everything he says and pay attention to what he doesn’t say.”

The corner of my mouth lifts into a half grin because I instantly recognize this behavior and having the four McGregor men as brothers, I’m well-equipped to handle it. “It’s nice to meet you both. As Alex’s most esteemed guest, you’ll address me as Your Majesty, Princess, Royal Lady of the Circle of Mad Mojo, Order of the First Degree, Queen of Eaglewood Acres.”

Straight-faced, they both stare at me for a long moment before bursting into laughter.

Paxton says, “She’s spunky. I like it.”

“Her Majesty is spunky,” I correct, barely able to hold back a smile.

Jesse makes up for it with a big one of his own. “It’s no wonder Lexman likes you so much.”

The space between my eyebrows pinches.

Jesse adds, “He just hasn’t admitted it yet.”

With a little wave, I hurry away before my cheeks burst into flames. I should’ve asked them about Ginny, but it’s too late to go back now as I walk up a curving wooden staircase to the main floor where voices, laughter, and music fill the massive room with an enormous stone hearth.

Alex, aka Lexman, a new detail I’ll note for the manuscript, stokes the fire. To my surprise, Ginny isn’t by his side.

As I peel off every bit of winter outerwear I donned for the short walk to the house, he turns slowly. His eyes spark when they land on me.

They light my cheeks, but the room is dim and the chatter seems to fade much like it did when I walked out of the airport and when I first saw him.

Alex took off his flannel and wears a button-down jersey cotton shirt. He pushes his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms and tattoos on the left that reach his watch. More details for later that I never got over email or on the phone.

Already, this trip is fruitful.

Recalling our awkward meeting at the airport and shaking hands, I imagine his strong, calloused palms on my skin. I wonder what it would be like to feel his thick, dark hair between my fingers.

“Why does he have to be so hot?” I whisper.

Alex’s gaze travels from my head to my toes before landing and locking on my eyes.

As if waking from a trance, I give my head a little shake. In case he heard me, I say, “I mean, why does it have to be so hot in here?”

The side of his lip lifts and he starts toward me, but before he reaches me, a burly guy wearing a sweatshirt with the Wild Warriors logo of two crossed hatchets with flames burning above in a campfire style intercepts him. I help myself to a mug of cider and linger by the fire.

A few of the other guys introduce themselves before Alex breaks free. Again, I’ve been around my brothers and their friends enough that I don’t need rescuing. Most recently, my move is to be solitary, but I wasn’t always that way. Once, Ryan said I could give Harley a run for her sassy pants money. Now they’re married, so go figure. But being around Alex, who has done more than his share of rescuing, draws me in like a moth toward a flame.

And those bah humbugs don’t help either.

“Hey, sorry about that. I wanted to—I couldn’t—Trapp and I go way back and—” He thumbs over his shoulder toward the guy.

I hold up my hands. “No apology needed. I navigated my way up here and through the hoard of wild warrior men just fine. In fact, I formally met Jesse and Paxton.”

Alex lets out a stilted breath.

“And they treated your most esteemed guest with utmost respect.”

Through the scruff on Alex’s face, appears a dimple along with his smile.

Only just seeing the dimple now, my breath catches. This is the best detail I’ve gathered so far. I hadn’t noticed it before. Is that because it doesn’t always pop or only comes with a certain kind of smile?

His deep voice comes back to me, “Ignore everything they say?—”

“And pay attention to what they don’t say.”

He snaps his fingers. “Wow. You’re a quick student.”

“Four brothers, remember?” I wink. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“If you were staying longer, there is a Christmas rodeo next weekend.”

“Brothers. Family. All that holiday business.”

“Right. Business. I mean Christmas.” Puffing out his cheeks, he looks around. “I wanted to get a tree up, but we had more Black Friday orders than expected and have been slightly behind ever since.”

“Maybe before I leave, you can show me headquarters.”

Alex lifts his hands, palms up, and says, “You’re looking at it.”

“Your living room?”

“With the flip of a switch, this place turns into command central with state-of-the-art—” His grin tells me everything I need to know about this little instance of leg pulling.

I snap my fingers and point. “You almost had me.”

“Quick student and perceptive. You’ll fit right in here.”

“I hope so. After I settled in down at the cabin, I talked to Dylann and confessed to having fallen in love—” There goes my mouth and my cheeks.

And if we weren’t so close to the fire, I’d think Alex’s cheeks flushed too or is he wearing a slight grimace? I can’t tell.

“I mean with your property. It’s beautiful. I can’t help but wonder where it’s been all my life.”

Alex’s gaze searches mine for a long moment as if not sure whether to linger or run for the hills. My busy brain and my mouth don’t always sync up.

Someone whistles sharply, snapping us out of the haze, or am I suffering from altitude sickness? We’re up high, right?

“Twas the night before the ruck and all through the house...” a guy with a deep voice starts.

“They’re getting started without me,” Alex says.

Tapping Alex lightly on the arm, I say, “Go do your hosting duties. I’ll be here...and if it’s all the same, I’d like to stay warm here by the fire while you guys hike tomorrow. I can get some work done.”

“I’ll make sure a peppermint mocha is waiting for you.”

“That would be sweet.”

He adds, “And maybe you can visit Ginny.”

That, not so much.

Alex welcomes everyone to the Wild Warriors Winter Weekend Retreat and wreath-making event. He talks about how the quarterly ruck is a good way to train for tactical fitness, bond with brothers, and get outdoors.

“If any of you skip the service portion and leave early before making a wreath or two and packing meals to donate, you owe me one hundred pushups...in the snow.”

Several of the guys groan .

“No complaining. Oxygen thieves aren’t welcome. You’ll hike, make wreaths, pack meals, and be happy about it.”

“Says the good idea fairy. Have you checked the temps? Tomorrow is going to be brutal,” Paxton says.

Alex continues, “We all served our country and the hike is a way to remind ourselves what it’s like to be uncomfortable, to push ourselves, to work together. We also now continue by serving the community.” He describes the wreath-making and meals they’ll be providing.

It’s impressive and inspiring. Almost makes my icy heart thaw.

“You may also notice my co-writer has joined us for the weekend,” Alex says, gesturing to me where I sit behind the guys on the arm of the couch.

I jolt from my thoughts as all eyes land on me.

With a regal bow, Paxton formally introduces me, “Your Majesty, Princess, Royal Lady of the Circle of Mad Mojo, Order of the First Degree, Queen of Eaglewood Acres.”

“Also known as Emmie,” Jesse adds.

My cheeks warm with the attention, and my mind races. “It’s nice to meet you all. As the resident writer and royalty, I won’t be doing the hike tomorrow, however, you’re welcome to share stories about Alex’s heroism.”

His dimple appears then fades when he turns to the group. “Don’t say anything to embarrass me. I’m looking at you, Pax.”

“Do you mean you don’t want me to mention that night we were on duty and you wanted to go to the—” one guy says.

“Zip. It. You’re still my subordinate.”

He pouts. “I thought we were brothers. No fair for you to flaunt all that chest candy.”

I’ve gleaned that means Alex is more decorated with ribbons and medals of valor than the guy who commented.

The others chuckle.

“Our medic and all-around top chef The Carnitas Cowboy has prepared a mean meal for y’all so go ahead and dig in. We muster at zero-dark thirty so no one get carried away with the libations.”

The room full of Spartans thunder toward the food line, which I glean consists of tacos and an assortment of side dishes, including queso. Everyone spreads out in the room, small groups and pairs breaking off into conversation. I overhear the recounting of missions and mentions of missing fallen brothers.

After filling a plate, I find a seat near the fire and listen for the low rumble of Alex’s voice like a homing beacon—likely these guys will too as they trudge through the forest tomorrow with him as their intrepid guide.

Knowing as much as I do about this honorable man, he has a special way of leading people home. Unexpectedly, his invitation here woke something up inside me. It’s like coming out from under a spell.

More than anything, I wanted to escape Coco Key. I got all the fashionable clothing, the big sunglasses, the sugar shoes, and tried to be a big city woman.

I thought I wanted that life, but maybe the mountains are for me.

Perhaps this is where I belong.

If only Alex could be a part of the place called home.