Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
They’re all watching me expectantly. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend like I really believe I’ll hear something, but I hate disappointing people, so I give it a go. Still. I won’t lie.
A snowflake falls on my nose.
“Nothing,” I shrug my shoulders acting as though I’m just as surprised as they are.
“Are you sure?” Bushy looks at me quizzically.
“She just arrived,” Stetson interrupts softly. “Give her a minute to adjust to it all.”
“But if she’s the one—” Shiny puts her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know that yet.” Stetson stops her from saying more.
I look from him to Shiny and watch their silent interaction. They’re having a moment here. There’s an unspoken message moving between the group that I’m the only one not understanding.
“Stetson?” I ask, needing to know what they’re talking about.
He turns his gaze back to me.
“I’m what one?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My words echo in the air and fade into nothing.
The silence that greets me is palpable, and there’s suddenly a tiny bit of tension in the otherwise jolly ambiance.
“You’re the one I brought to see the village,” Stetson replies quickly.
No way.
“The first one?” I can’t help but laugh in disbelief.
Who is he kidding? He has the women he likes sign a one-night stand clause. This is a man who’s been down this rodeo before. I’m not that delusional.
Only sometimes.
“You are the first one.” He says it so solemnly that the wind gets knocked out of me.
The rush I feel from those words almost brings me to my knees. The solemness in his voice and the strange look in his eyes, it’s a tiny bit… surreal? And dare I say, magical?
But still.
I signed a one-night clause.
“I guess you could say it’s kind of a hard place to get to—especially for a date,” I choose to make light of his words, assuming nothing.
He narrows his eyes and studies me. Instead of telling me that I’m something special, he simply says, “that must be it.”
But I know he doesn’t mean it. I don’t know how. But I do.
Even though we’re silently being watched, it feels like Stetson and I are the only two people here in the world. Despite the freezing temperature, a warmth moves through my blood and my body as I lock eyes with this gorgeous man.
Then it dawns on me. I’m starting to believe him and this unbelievable story.
It doesn’t feel like he’s lying or delusional—not just because I know it—but because this would have to be the most elaborate and extravagant play in the world.
And if he’s telling the truth…
“So this is where Santa does his thing?” I stop my brain in its tracks and look around the village as the snowflakes fall from the sky like magic.
It’s the most beautiful vision I’ve ever seen. The dreamy village is lit up with shimmering lights and the smell of savory and sweets washes over me in the most perfect of ways—the kind that makes you go back in time…
Suddenly l’m overwhelmed by a feeling of nostalgia—my childhood memories wash over me like a tidal wave. The smell of the Christmas tree, that is of course whenever mom would deem it fit to put one up. Or remembered. Every year it was hit or miss in our house. But when she did indulge us, there was the feeling of excitement I’d have the night before Christmas morning knowing there’d be presents waiting for me… the pancakes mom would make in Christmas tradition… it felt like we were a real family then. Those were the best moments I remember from my childhood. Those moments suddenly consume me, almost choking me in some type of emotional frenzy, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to think anymore.
And I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling so damn emotional!
“Maybe you need to stop thinking, Charlie Horseman,” Bushy pulls me out of my reverie and watches me knowingly. “Maybe you just need to be.”
What the heck? Did he just read my mind?!
“How…” my voice trails off as Stetson steps in and smoothly changes the topic.
“Would you like to eat first or have a tour?”
“A tour,” I answer quickly, still confused as to how Bushy knew what I was thinking.
“Perfect,” Stetson smiles in pleasure and takes my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. “I can’t wait to show you around.”
That single action instantly changes my thought process to one more sensual.
“Will you be joining us for dinner?” The one named Sugarplum asks.
Stetson cocks his head to the side, “we’ll stop by for the party, but I think we’ll have dinner alone.”
“Great,” he says and gives us a big smile. “Have a jolly time!”
Stetson looks over at me.
“Ready?”
As ready as I’ll ever be.
Stetson takes me through the Christmas village. All the buildings in the village have thick sugared snow rooftops with icicles hanging like crystal chandeliers. The windows are square and large and remind me of something I saw in the Lord of the Rings movie.