Page 19 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage (Jonathon Island #6)

Chapter Eight

S he was positively giddy. What was happening to her?

If she’d believed in aliens, she would think they had kidnapped her and exchanged her body for someone (something?) else.

Bronte did not get giddy. Yet here she was, typing furiously at her manuscript, slaphappy smile on her face and giggles bubbling from her midsection.

“You must be working on Whatever Rom-Com,” Jonah said, standing from the couch, his gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips and his dark-green Army T-shirt stretching across his broad chest.

Bronte forced her eyes back to her computer.

She needed to stop ogling Jonah. No matter how much fun she was having, she wasn’t here forever.

After Christmas, she’d go back to Tulsa, and he’d go back to Germany.

She couldn’t take him home with her. Still, when he paused his trek toward the kitchen, her stomach dipped low as he leaned over and grabbed her now empty mug.

Wait. He had said something. What had he said? Oh, right. The Whatever Rom-Com. “Why would you say that?”

“Because.” Jonah filled the kettle with water and set it back on the stove before leaning his hip against the counter facing Bronte. “You seem lighter when you’re working on that one.”

Bronte frowned, concentrating on Jonah’s Santa socks—a different pair than he’d worn earlier that week. These featured floating Santa and Rudolph heads. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I don’t necessarily think it’s either one.” Jonah filled the mugs, his with coffee, hers with hot water. “I can only image the Pikes are a hard family to write about. Those books are heavier. But I do like to see you having so much fun with this one.”

Fun. There was that word again. It seemed she was having fun both in her life and in her writing. If only it were on the book she’d come here to write.

The book she’d come here to write.

Right.

Glancing at the clock, she realized she had been working on the Whatever Rom-Com for over an hour—which was over the ten minutes she’d told herself she was going to work on it.

You know, just to get the creative juices flowing.

Minimizing the romantic comedy, she opened the Pike family document, stomach curling at the word count at the bottom of the screen, mocking her.

Jonah put Bronte’s now-full teacup next to her. He put an arm around the back of her chair and leaned in close, his scent of sandalwood and citrus clouding all her senses. She’d almost slid her eyes closed just to get lost in his scent when she realized what he was doing.

She snapped her laptop closed. “Nope. No peeking.”

Jonah stood up, taking his scent with him. “So close.”

“Go back over there and finish reading your book. You still have one more to go before you’re all caught up.”

“Fine.” Jonah trudged back over to the couch with his cup of coffee and picked up his Kindle. “It’s not my fault you write such long books.”

“You love it.”

“Yep. I do.” Jonah settled back in, and Bronte shifted her attention back to her manuscript.

She told herself she would work on the Pike story for an hour and then let herself take a short break with the rom-com.

If she did that, she’d make progress on both manuscripts and be able to wrap everything up before it was time to head to town with Jonah for the Christmas stroll.

An hour later, a ping from her notifications announced an incoming text. Bronte had thought she’d silenced all notifications. Too late for that now. She minimized her document and opened her messaging app.

Margot

How’s the writing coming?

Margot. Lexi’s mother and the head of Write Stuff Literary Agency.

Bronte cringed. A follow-up from Margot couldn’t be a good thing. Bronte looked down at the word count. Still not where it needed to be for this late in the game. Even if Lexi had told Bronte she worked best under pressure, Bronte could feel herself testing her limits.

Bronte

Good!

Not an all-out lie. The writing was going fine. Better on the project she had promised Lexi she wouldn’t be working on, but still, progress was being made.

Margot

I’ll have the Pike manuscript on my desk in two weeks?

Bronte bit her lip, her gaze wandering to Jonah—or what little she could see of him stretched out on the couch.

He held his Kindle above him, completely lost in the story he was reading.

Jonah had been right when he’d said Bronte seemed lighter when she was working on the rom-com.

She felt lighter. What if there was a way to work some of that magic into the last Pike family book?

If Margot knew how good she felt about this story, she would agree with her. Holding her breath, she hurriedly typed out a response to gauge Margot’s thoughts.

Bronte

Yes, you’ll have it in two weeks. I’m thinking about maybe adding a little more romance and comedy into this last book.

Three dots appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared.

Margot

I’m not sure that it’d be wise to change the genre of the series this late in the game, but if you can make it work and have it on my desk in two weeks…

Bronte could practically see Margot’s thinly sculpted eyebrow rising and the upturn of her nose as she responded.

Bronte

You won’t regret this.

Margot

See that I don’t.

Cracking her knuckles, Bronte went back to staring at the Pike manuscript.

Margot had said she could put in more romance and comedy, she just had to make it work.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her pen and started jotting down ideas.

For the first time since she’d arrived on Jonathon Island, she was looking forward to working on the Pike Family Saga.

* * *

The sun had shown up for the Christmas stroll. It had to be at least almost above freezing temps, and with the sun shining, it could almost be considered warm.

Jonah had worked up a bit of a sweat walking from the house to Main Street, where the festivities were.

Bronte had been so deep in writing when it’d come time to leave that he’d almost suggested they stay home for the afternoon.

But she must have had an alarm set, because at one, she’d packed everything away, bundled up in layers and her thick wool coat, and asked Jonah how come he wasn’t ready yet.

“Bronte! Jonah! Over here!” Dani called.

Jonah grabbed Bronte’s hand and pulled her in the direction of where Dani had set up camp under a brightly colored canopy in front of the Tourism Bureau.

“Wow. This is a great turnout,” Jonah said, giving Dani a side hug.

The street was packed with tourists and community members alike, all dressed in fluffy coats and stocking caps.

All the shops that hadn’t closed down for the season, plus a few that had opened back up for just the stroll, had banners and signs declaring sales.

A few brave vendors had canopies set up and were selling their wares farmers-market style.

At least most of them had portable heaters to keep from freezing.

Christmas music pumped through the speakers, and more than one person sang or hummed along.

“I know. It’s better than I could have hoped for.” Dani clapped her hands together. “I wasn’t sure how it was going to work out with the weather, but it’s almost warm today! Hey, Bronte.”

Bronte smiled and lifted her hand in a wave.

She had been quiet on their walk to town.

Maybe she’d changed her mind about going.

Jonah had noticed that Bronte didn’t react like his sisters when given the opportunity to get out of the house and around large crowds.

They got all chipper and excited. Bronte, it seemed, grew quiet and withdrawn.

He tugged her closer to him. “Are you doing okay?” He leaned in close, not minding the coconut and lavender scent from her shampoo. “We don’t have to stay long if you need to get more work done today.”

Bronte waved him off. “It’s fine. There’s just more people than I expected. I’ll make up the words later.” She shook her head and grinned. “That seems to be becoming my mantra.”

“When you’re ready to go, you just give the word, and we’ll go.”

“Jonah White, are you trying to get out of the snowman-building contest?” Dani asked, hands on her hips.

“I wasn’t aware that I was planning on entering.”

“Oh yes, and she’s already put you and Bronte down as a team.” Liam came up behind Dani, threading his arms around her and pulling her close.

Jonah shot a glance to Bronte. Did she even want to build a snowman? He had planned on a low-key afternoon, maybe grabbing some dinner at Martha’s or Kelley’s Bar & Grill before the Christmas tree lighting.

Instead of apprehension, Bronte’s face lit up. “Snowman-building contest?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “It’s been forever since I’ve built a snowman.”

“You’re up for it?” Jonah asked.

“Up for it? We’re going to win,” Bronte said, eyes sparkling. “What’s the prize?”

“First place is a dozen cinnamon rolls from Good Day Coffee, a gift card to Martha’s, a pound of fudge, and a free meal at Kelley’s.” Dani rattled off the list.

“We are so winning.”

“Okay then,” Jonah agreed. “Ready to go explore?”

Nodding, Bronte took Jonah’s hand. He wished he weren’t wearing gloves right now.

Dani’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t forget to stop by the library and vote for your favorite gingerbread house,” she called after them.

They wove their way through the crowd, Jonah letting himself be pulled along wherever Bronte wanted to go.

The band kids from Jonathon Island Public School were selling poinsettias and greenery, someone Jonah didn’t recognize was selling handmade wooden items, but Bronte’s face really lit up when they made it to the booth for the Jonathon Island Public School Art Club, selling hand-drawn cards and art.

By the time they’d made their way down the street to the library, they were both sipping on hot apple cider from the Fort Jonathon sponsored booth.