Christmas in Cornwall Page 11

  I wanted him to be happy there, and I wanted to find a way to be part of his life there, somehow. That nice holiday Lady Amanda said I had earned—who said it couldn’t be spent in Massachusetts? Maybe Matt could be my guide in Boston, the same as he was in Ceffylgwyn those first few weeks. My smile grew as I pictured this scenario, until my reflection was almost beaming in the window’s glass.

  It was a good match for the view outside, where the fine dusting of snow glistened like crystal against the dark green hedge leaves and the branches bared for winter, and tucked itself like sugar into the crevices of the ornamental garden urns. I would have to rejoin the others at the table soon, but, just for a moment, I wanted to savor this image of a perfect Cornish Christmas morning. Perfect, except for the fact that Matt wasn’t here to share it with me, of course.

  When I spotted a figure crossing the courtyard a moment later, I thought it wasn’t real. A mirage, perhaps—one of Matt carrying gift wrapped packages and wearing a tuxedo beneath his overcoat, no less.

  I was out the door and down the steps to meet him in mere seconds. His brown eyes met mine, his breath forming clouds in the air as he reached me.

  “I don’t think any storm has ever had better timing then this one,” he said. “When my flight was delayed last night, I decided it must be fate. When the hour came to board… but I decided I didn’t want to go, not yet.”

  “But I thought you had to leave.” I thought I was going to cry, even though I was smiling. “You had promised them.”

  “I think they can wait another day,” said Matt, smiling. “Christmas is best spent with those you love. Especially when it’s your first one together. And I couldn’t possibly let a hired dinner jacket go to waste, could I?”

  He set his packages in the snow and took hold of both of my hands. His fingers were cold, but I didn’t care. I leaned against him, burying my face against his wool scarf for a moment as we stood together.

  He picked me over his work? How very dashing and romantic. I wanted to throw my arms around him in a bear hug, instead of fighting not to be utterly overwhelmed by happiness at this moment.

  “What do you think, Julianne Morgen?” he asked. “Are you free to spend this day with me?”

  I settled for a teasing smile as I drew back from his hold.

  “I’d be very flattered,” I said. “Lucky for you, you’re just in time for plum pudding. Dinah’s special recipe, so you know it’s perfection.”

  “Then let’s have some of it, shall we?” Matt gathered his Christmas gifts from the snow, his free hand taking mine as we walked side by side to the house.

  Learn more about the third book in the series, A Cottage in Cornwall here

  and

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of the new romantic comedy Table for Two

  Excerpt from TABLE FOR TWO

  "What's in the shopping bag?" Danni asked.

  Logan grimaced. "Don't ask," he answered, before rearranging his expression to a grin. "So, how's the Peppermint Latte?"

  He could see she wasn't buying his subject switch. "What are you hiding?" she asked. "Did you get me a present? A hideously ugly dancing reindeer, like the one from the window display across the street that we laughed at?"

  "Relax. I'm not one of those terrible friends who springs a present on you and leaves you feeling guilty you didn't have time to reciprocate," he answered.

  "Whoa. That's a lot of guilt trip in one sentence," said Danni. "Did that happen to you once?" She sipped her coffee. "More than once?"

  "Twice, actually," he admitted.

  "So ... what's in the sack?"

  "Okay, remember what I told you before about my family's Christmas Eve party tradition —"

  Danielle didn't wait for him to finish. "Let's see it," she said, setting aside her coffee cup.

  He sighed. "Here goes." He pulled the folded garment out of the sack and held it up to himself. "What do you think? Will I win Ugliest Sweater of the Holiday?"

  It was a glaring neon red and green stripe, with felt brown reindeer stitched all over it, and 'Ho Ho Ho' embroidered in purple. Some of the reindeer sported tiny Santa hats.

  Danielle was laughing so hard, he didn't think she could answer. "I think we can safely say this one will knock 'em dead at the Christmas party," he said, when she paused to catch her breath. "The finest in horrible holiday couture."

  "It's great," she said, giggling a little with these words. "No, seriously, you'll look great in it. I think it suits you. And it looks comfortable, at least."

  "Just in case this wasn't the one, I have a backup choice."

  "A backup?" repeated Danielle. "You mean, you bought two of these things?" She took the reindeer sweater from him, examining it closely.

  "There was a two for one deal at the secondhand shop," explained Logan. "The salesgirl insisted on throwing in a second one. I resisted, but .…" He trailed off as he pulled the second garment from the bag. "How could I say no?"

  It was electric red, the centerpiece a big felt clump of what was apparently supposed to be mistletoe, little leaves and pearl beads clumped together above two quilted red hearts.

  Danielle studied it with a critical eye, although her lips were still twitching. "I don't know," she said, after a moment. "Who all will be at this party? Just family? Or are there neighbors, friends ... maybe an old girlfriend or two from high school who's still available?" She lifted one eyebrow, suggestively.

  "No ex-girlfriends," he said. "Nobody romantically unattached will be there, so I'm not meeting somebody special over the holidays, trust me."

  He folded the sweater again, sneaking a glance to see if there was a reaction to his words in Danni's face — maybe one of relief for his answer? But Danni was busy holding up the reindeer sweater to herself, checking her reflection in the glass.

  She sighed as she folded the second sweater and handed it back. "Being single for the holidays is the worst," she said, wryly. "You go home, and everyone asks you dozens of questions about why you're not seeing anybody, why you're not engaged yet —"

  "Probably asking you, 'Aren't there any nice boys in the city?'" quipped Logan, in a high-pitched voice. "I think my family's given up on me. No more questions about why I'm showing up alone for the holidays, anyway."

  If things had worked out differently .... But he wasn't thinking of Doris, with whom he'd mutually broken things off before Thanksgiving. He was thinking about the woman across from him. He caught himself thinking about her once a day, at least. Something she said, a look she gave him, the way she played with a long strand of her hair whenever she was thinking deeply about something ... images like this came to him at times when he least expected it, and was supposed to be focused on the details of his new job.

  He told himself it was the shift in working hours, the natural adjustment to a new environment and new coworkers making him seek familiarity in his thoughts. But he knew that wasn't the reason. Lying to himself was only burying the truth that he was still attracted to Danni.