A deep breath fills my lungs as relief soothes some of the stress that’s been twisting my insides. “I’m good, Sebbie. Although, I’ll be better when I’m on a plane home.”
“Don’t stress too much about it. Like I said, we’ll figure it out.” Another voice sounds down the line. “I’ve got to go—I need to save Parker from his bloodsucking ex, but I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, love you.”
“You too,” he says before disconnecting the call.
Grabbing my boots from where they sit by the front door, I perch on the coffee-colored couch and start to put them on. I need to wrap up if I’m going to tackle this weather. But the sooner I’m out, the sooner I’ll return and I can get back to fixing this mess. There has to be a way out of here and onto a flight.
Hearing Adam descending the stairs, I look over to greet him. His chocolate-colored hair sticks up in all different directions, and his arresting eyes have me staring like a fool before I can catch myself. My heart starts to race, and my tummy is doing somersaults at the sight of him. He’s wearing a gray sweater and a pair of dark jeans. If he were a candy cane, I’d lick him all over.
“Morning,” he says gruffly, his voice full of sleep, as he heads to the kitchen no doubt in search of caffeine. Thankfully, that’s one thing we do have. “Where’re you heading?”
“I’m walking into town to get groceries,” I say, standing and grabbing my white scarf with candy canes printed on it from the back of the couch, before securing it around my neck.
“You cannot be serious?” he scoffs, looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Uh, yeah I can. Unless you want to dine on instant noodles again tonight…” Walking over to the kitchen counter, I grab my purse and check I’ve got everything I need.
“It’s practically a blizzard out there. You can’t go walking around in it.” The incredulity in his tone has me giggling inside. Is he always this serious?
“Are you always this dramatic?” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy, and it’s kind of adorable.
“I’m dramatic? Who was on their knees shoveling snow with their hands yesterday?” he throws back at me, and I roll my eyes and point to his phone.
“If you’re that concerned, let me give you my number. I promise to call you if I’m in danger of turning into a yeti.”
Noticing him cringe as he unlocks his phone and passes it to me, I feel a little bad for teasing him. When his fingers brush mine, I startle at the spark that rushes through me. It’s just static from my boots, I’m sure.
Once my number is saved in his phone—as Mrs. Claus, of course—I hand it back and slip my red coat on and my woolen Santa hat. He calls me so I have his number, and I don’t miss the quirk of his lips when he sees what I’ve saved my number as. Focus, Amelia!
“See ya later,” I say, smiling as he goes back to checking his emails. I open the door and make my way into the winter wonderland outside.
It takes all of ten minutes for me to think that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. The flakes are really starting to come down now, and every step I take is a battle against the powder beneath my feet. As satisfying as it is to hear the crunch of fresh snow as you wade through it, it’s exhausting, and my feet feel like icicles. A horn beeping pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see a black Range Rover pull up beside me.
“Jump in,” Adam says through the rolled-down window.
He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I open the passenger door, climbing in beside him and groaning in relief at the feel of the heating blasting through the dash. The sound of another voice startles me, and it takes a minute for me to realize he’s on a call through the car’s Bluetooth.
“I’ll read through the email and give you a call back, that okay?” he asks the guy on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, no problem. Speak to you later,” the other caller says before disconnecting.
Adam turns to me and smiles. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem,” I say, glancing over at him and feeling those pesky butterflies in action again. “What are you doing here?” I ask, now that I’ve caught my breath and started to thaw out a little. Heated seats are one of the best inventions known to man. Fact.
“The snow is starting to pick up. Thought you might appreciate a ride,” he says.
“You may have been right about the blizzard…” I admit, rubbing my hands together in front of the heater and admiring the view from the window. With the snow decorating houses and trees, it looks like the scene from a Christmas card. Houses are decorated with wreaths and twinkle lights, mistletoe, and holly.
Adam parks the car in front of the local supermarket and says he’ll wait for me while he checks his emails and returns the call. So I hop out and make my way inside to grab what we need.
Once we’re back at the cottage and have put away the groceries, I pull up the airline’s website and check my flight again. Still canceled with no other alternatives just yet. Shooting a text to Kate, asking her to keep an eye out on her end, I slip my coat back on and head out to my car. The wheels are buried deep in snow, all my previous attempts at digging them out by hand hidden by a fresh layer. Fighting with the thick coat of snow covering the door, I let out a slurry of curses as I attempt to get inside. Slipping into the driver’s seat, I start the engine, hoping by some miracle Fiona will go Hulk on me and plough through the snow.
No such luck.
Damn it! I bang my head on the steering wheel in frustration, startling when the horn sounds. Well then, better make the most of the situation. One of the perks of having just finished an event is that I may have one or two or several decorations in the trunk of my car to give the cottage a festive makeover. I won’t let Mother Nature steal my Christmas spirit just yet!
“Need a hand?” I startle at the sound of Adam’s voice, blushing when I realize he must have heard me swearing like a sailor.
“Please.” Batting my lashes at him, I give him my broadest smile which earns me a shake of his head. He’s snickering at me though, so I continue. “Can you help me get some of these boxes out of the trunk?”
Climbing out of the car, I trudge around the back with him following behind. Adam helps me clear the snow covering the trunk, and I open it to reveal my supplies. As I turn to face him, he lifts his hand and fingers some snow from my hair, brushing it behind my ear. The surprising movement has fire coursing through my veins as my heart pounds harder in my chest at the way his hand hovers between us for a moment. With a shake of his head, he turns back to the trunk, letting out a whistle before he asks, “What’s all this?”
I don’t miss the way his voice sounds gruffer or the way my insides twist at the low rasp of it. It takes me a beat to catch my breath before I can reply, “Christmas decorations. Everything we need to turn the cottage into a grotto!” I sound a little too enthusiastic, even to myself, but the alternative would be a silly giggle because I’m still lost somewhere in the last minute or so, wondering what the hell just happened.
Turning to take in his mystified expression, the giggle I’ve been trying to push down blusters out of me, and to stop myself from looking like any more of a fool, I start passing him boxes to take inside.
Once I’m back in the warmth of the cottage, I pull up Spotify on my phone. Bringing up one of my favorite Christmas playlists, I hum along to Wham! while untangling the Christmas lights. With my Santa hat on and the festive tunes playing, I bob along to the music with a smile.
I’m in my own little Christmas world when Adam sets a mug of hot cocoa in front of me.
“Thought you could use something to warm up,” he says with a kind smile, and I feel my insides heating, although I can’t imagine that’s what he meant.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching for the mug and taking a sip, savoring the sweet taste as it hits my tongue, before getting back to the job at hand.
“Why the heck do you have all of this?” he asks, taking in my decorating efforts.
> “Work. I just organized the Christmas party to end all Christmas parties. I had to bring epic supplies.”
“I’m impressed. It’s one hell of a haul.” He chuckles, eying the boxes piled on the floor and couch that we dredged into the cottage, risking frostbite.
“You’d be surprised what I can fit in Fiona,” I state proudly. She’s yet to let me down. Apart from, you know, getting me stranded in the snow. But everyone is entitled to an off day.
“Fiona?” He looks at me perplexed as all hell.
“My car—she has everything you need for a Christmas event. My best friend, Kate, calls her a ‘one-stop shop.’ The only thing I can’t fit in her is a Christmas tree. I think those bad boys are too much for her,” I say with a shrug.
Adam chuckles, taking in the boxes scattered over the couch as he has a seat in the armchair across from me with his cup of coffee.
Taking a sip, I groan as the sweet taste of chocolate heaven touches my tongue. He chuckles at my reaction, and I flush.
“Woah. Where’d you learn to make such good cocoa?” Greedily taking another sip, I look over to him.
“It’s my sister’s favorite.” He smiles that killer smile that has me clenching my thighs and biting my lip at thoughts of his mouth on me. My insides heat, and I know it isn’t due to the cocoa.
“How many lights do you need?” he asks, getting back to the task at hand and breaking me out of my fantasy.
“A few. Christmas lights are what add the magic and sparkle! If we’re going to be stuck here, we might as well make the most out of it, right?”
With a soft scoff, he takes a gulp of his coffee, and I can’t help but notice the way his throat bobs as he swallows it down. I’m in a trance when he says, “I’d offer you a seat on my jet, but with the weather, even the private airports have grounded all flights. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon either.”
Offering me an apologetic shrug, he takes another drink while I wonder if he’s trying to impress me or whether he’s merely making a joke. I’d bet on the latter given all his phone calls and the amount of time he spends reading emails. Although Adam isn’t showy, he has that look about him, and it’s not all the visibly expensive clothes. It’s more to do with the way he holds himself, as though he’s used to being on top and in control.
He must see my reaction as he explains, flashing me a rueful smile, “Company perk.”
“That’s sweet, thanks. But my case is still in my apartment in London, so I’ll need to get back there first.” Taking another mouthful of cocoa, I set the mug down and get back to work.
Mariah Carey comes on next, and I start to sing along. I hear him chuckle, and I look over to where he’s sitting, taking him in. “What?”
“You’re really into all this Christmas…stuff, huh?” He tilts his head to the side and studies me, like it’s a mystery to him how I can enjoy the holiday this much, and then his gaze meanders down my body. Slowly enough that my heart forgets what it’s meant to be doing and skips a couple of beats when he pauses on my thighs, at the hem of my sweater dress.
I can barely breathe as I rummage through the box with all the lights, finding the ones labeled “warm ambience.” Adam would probably struggle with the colorful ones. When I look up, his eyes are still intent on me, and I have to clear my throat to finally answer his question.
“Well, yeah. Of course. It’s the best time of year! Christmas music, trees, lights, family, cookies, mulled wine. What’s not to like?” I ask, taking the set of lights and hanging them across the fireplace.
His scoff has me turning to study him. “Are you a Grinch, Adam?”
A hearty laugh tumbles from him, making me smile nervously as I have another sip of chocolatey goodness, before grabbing another set of lights and heading for the staircase.
“No, not quite that bad. I guess I’m just not a Christmas person, but when in Rome… Do you need a hand?” he asks, seeing me trying and failing to wrap the lights around the banister.
“If you don’t mind?”
Moving to the bottom of the staircase, he takes one end while I weave the other up to the top. Securing the battery pack, I flick the switch and watch the twinkling lights illuminate the walkway. A satisfied smile spreads across my face, and I turn to Adam. He looks amused.
“What’s next?” he asks, as I make my way back down the stairs and to my bag of goodies. Emptying out my supplies, I talk him through my plan.
“Ever make paper snowflakes?”
“Sure…in first and second grade,” Adam replies, following me back to the lounge where the bags with materials sit on the rug by the fireplace.
“I guess you’ll be going down memory lane, then.” I hand him the scissors I found in the kitchen drawer and then some of the crepe paper I had left over from the event. “I figured we could stick the snowflakes on the windows.”
“All you gotta do is look outside—”
“Don’t be a party pooper, Adam. No one likes a killjoy.”
He looks at me with a narrowed gaze, as though I’ve hit a nerve. Except that he comes closer, making my heart stutter as it picks up its pace. Lowering to sit in front of me, he starts folding some of the paper as he says, “I’m not a killjoy.”
“Really? If that’s so, you can help me hang some tinsel around the frames on the walls and a little wreath on the front door once we’re finished with these.” Smiling, and satisfied with my efforts at teasing him, I chance a look at Adam to find him staring at me.
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” He chuckles with a flash of his perfect teeth.
“Not when it comes to Christmas,” I admit.
“Why Christmas?”
“I love it! Everyone is so happy and merry. It brings everyone together. It’s the one time of year when my parents were actually around when we were kids. We were like a real family. Part of me thinks they went above and beyond to try and make up for how absent they were the rest of the time. But regardless of their reasons, Christmas was always the best. Even now, I always go back to LA to spend it with my brother. It just feels magical, I guess. That probably sounds lame…” I trail off as I realize I’m rambling.
“No, not at all,” Adam says, moving to sit beside me on the couch. He seems genuinely interested, and it makes me want to continue to spill my guts to this handsome stranger.
Sending him a grateful smile, I continue. “Plus it’s a busy time of year for me professionally. As an events planner, so much of my work is based around Christmas events or parties. So I’m always busy, which I love.”
“I get that. How about you give me a refresher lesson in how to make these paper snowflakes?”
3
Adam
Too early. Turning down the radio, I gulp down another mouthful of coffee while taking in the Christmas explosion around me. There’s tinsel everywhere, and small paper snowflakes frame the view of the white hills and fields surrounding us.
Talk about contagious. I can’t believe I’m actually smiling at the thought of Amelia letting loose on an actual Christmas tree. Except, that’s the only thing she couldn’t fit in her tiny-ass car.
Drinking down the rest of my coffee, I try to distract my head from her by focusing on my inbox. It’s a pointless task, though, because all I can think about is how different Amelia is to anyone I’ve ever met. Happiness oozes from her.
Don’t be an enabler, I tell myself at the same time as I press one of the paper cutouts back to the glass. Before I can stop myself, I’m rinsing out my coffee cup and heading for the front door. I have calls I need to make anyway, so the drive will allow me some time without obvious distractions to catch up with the legal team back in New York. If we can get this investment deal closed while I’m here, it will put me in good standing with the board.
“Running away from the grotto already?” Amelia’s chuckle has me spinning to find her standing halfway down the stairs.
Still in her gray and pink plaid sleep shirt and fluffy socks, she’s
a vision with her red hair a wild, knotted mess around her shoulders and a broad grin that makes it impossible not to reciprocate.
Pulling on my coat, I make a point of looking around. “Jeez, what gave you that idea?”
“Too much?” A pensive look scrunches her nose as she fingers the lights wrapped around the bannister.
Actually, the place looks more homely than when I arrived, if that’s even possible considering how cozy the cottage is. Still, I’m already going too far with my current endeavor; she doesn’t need me to exacerbate her holiday craze.
“I’ll let you know when I get back. I have an errand I need to run this morning.”
A loud whimper escapes her as I open the front door and the wintery bluster rushes in along with some stray snowflakes.
With one last glimpse of her, I close the door heading for the Range. By the time I’ve cleared the snow and got inside, Amelia’s sitting at the window watching me with a coffee in one hand and her phone to her ear as I drive away. There’s something oddly pleasant about knowing she’s as curious about me as I am about her.
Although, I’d say I’m more than curious at this point, given I’m still searching her out in the rearview mirror while heading into the village on the lookout for a Christmas tree when I should be using the time to make the calls I need to for work.
A few minutes into my venture, my phone rings. Daphne. She tried to FaceTime me last night, probably hoping for a tour of the quintessential English cottage she’s clearly obsessed with. It strikes me then that she would love Amelia. They have very similar quirky personalities.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask her in answer to the call.
“Are you mad at me?” Her voice has that sweetness to it that she uses to thaw me out when I am pissed at her. “I thought the cottage was a good call. There was nowhere else. There’s like one hotel, and it was all booked up…”
“You can stop with the apologetic talk. I’m not mad.”
Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance Page 2