Page 30 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas

TWENTY-SEVEN

MEG

Meg’s phone buzzed, vibrating on her bedside table and rumbling against the grain just enough to jolt her awake.

She groaned and fumbled in the dark, swatting at the screen until the alarm went quiet. She didn’t want to move.

Not yet.

She yanked the cozy layers of fleece blankets up tighter, trapping in the lingering warmth from the fireplace that had long since gone cold. Her head sank deeper into the soft down pillows, and she curled into the firm mattress like it was her own personal cocoon.

A faint hint of cedar and smoke from the bonfire still clung to her hair.

Sometime long after midnight, she had stumbled back to the cabin after the bonfire, slightly buzzed—chilled to the bone, but also relieved.

No proposal.

No shiny diamond ring or confession of undying love.

Just the heat from the fire, some laughs, lots of reminiscing, and an unexpected peace. Well, at least temporary peace.

Thank goodness for that.

Did it mean Matt had changed his mind?

Or did he have bigger plans in store?

Like proposing at his forest formal party tonight?

Her phone buzzed again, louder this time.

What time was it?

Her head felt heavy. A dull ache spread from her temples across her forehead as she sat up and grabbed her phone. The blue light radiating from the screen forced her to wince.

Crap.

She shouldn’t have had that second mulled cider last night.

She needed coffee and Advil—stat.

Gam would tell her to try peppermint oil. Had she packed any?

She looked for the alarm button on her phone but realized that it was a text that had woken her, not her alarm.

A text from Connor Howard.

Why was he texting her?

She yawned and blinked hard, concentrating on the screen.

Is Johanna with you?

What was happening at work?

Yesterday, Johanna had been acting weird. And all those texts.

Was something going down?

Layoffs?

Was she about to be out of a job? In some ways, it wouldn’t be a bad thing—it would force the issue, but she needed her ESPN paycheck to cover rent, and there was the glaring issue of health insurance.

Gam would say that sometimes, the Universe nudges us on our path of purpose, and sometimes, it pushes us straight off a ledge.

This could be one of those times.

Meg glanced at the clock. It was just after six. Although that was nine his time. Connor was a stats guy. Numbers were his thing. He should have done the math and known better.

Was he asking literally or generally?

Johanna was at her own cabin.

You mean, Bend? Yeah, she’s here. What’s up?

Three dots appeared on the screen.

She shuffled to the bathroom while she waited for Connor’s response and dug through her toiletries.

Aha! She had packed a little vial of peppermint oil.

She dabbed it on her temples and crown chakra (as Gam would say) and ran it beneath her nose.

The strong aroma made her eyes water. She dug her fingers into her temples, massaging the oil deeper into her skin and drinking in the minty scent.

Within seconds, her headache began to retreat.

It wasn’t gone, but it was certainly better.

Nothing that coffee and Advil couldn’t handle now.

Thanks, Gam.

How long u there?

3 days. What’s on fire?

No fire. I’m coming. Can’t get ahold of J. At the airport. Be there by later this afternoon.

Connor was coming?

To Bend?

A surge of adrenaline pulsed through Meg’s veins.

Did this confirm the worst?

Was he taking over her assignment?

Johanna had mentioned some potential shake-ups and the possibility of layoffs in the new year.

Was this it?

Was she about to be fired?

She sighed and texted him back.

This is my assignment.

She added a string of angry face emojis.

Connor wasn’t the type.

Maybe this was coming from someone above his pay grade.

She actually liked him the most out of any of the sportscaster bros, but he could have said no.

He could have stood up for her. Classic misogyny.

Not taking your assignment. Doing my own thing. Don’t tell J. See u later.

A thousand questions assaulted Meg’s mind. Doing his own thing? Was he going rogue? Or was that a lie? He had to know she would be furious if he scooped her on this assignment. Why?

It didn’t make sense, and she didn’t need a guy like Connor angling in on her story.

How ironic. She didn’t even want this assignment.

And now the dazzling Connor Howard was coming for her job.

Well, fine, come for it. She was ready to fight.