Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rosie

I t was Christmas Day, and everything hurt.

I’d slept poorly through the night, wanting to curl onto my side, but the dull ache from my ankle made it awkward to do so. I’d taken one look at my back in the bathroom mirror yesterday and winced at the bruises that had bloomed across my skin. Even worse was trying to navigate around the tiny flat on my crutches. There wasn’t much room between furniture for me to maneuver, so I’d largely just stayed in bed, feeling sorry for myself.

Yes, I’m aware that’s dumb. I was lucky, the puffin was saved, and I had a cool new job and a new life in Scotland. But I hadn’t heard a word from Alexander, had no idea if he’d even read my note, and I was in pain. So, yes, I was allowed to pout. And today was Christmas, everyone was with their families, and I’d lied to the Book Bitches about having plans. I was going to hole up under the covers and watch a movie marathon depending on what I could stream on my laptop. I’d just managed to make my way back from the bathroom and had pulled myself back under the covers. Propping myself up on the pillows, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes.

This was just a bad day. It wasn’t a bad life.

My ankle would heal, the Christmas season would pass, and I would have better days.

But today? Today everything hurt. Including my heart.

The speaker in the shop flipped on and began to play All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey. I sighed. Moira had been good about not playing that song too much, but it did feel like a punch to the gut now that I was sitting here, single and lonely, on Christmas Day.

“Rosie?”

My eyes flipped open. Alexander.

Damn it, I was in a stained oversized Sponge Bob T-shirt and my hair was likely greasy and matted to my head. I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes.

“In here.”

Alexander appeared in the doorway, looking warm and wonderful and so sexy he took my breath away. His dark hair gleamed with a few droplets of rain, and he wore a chunky sweater and dark jeans. I wanted to hug him .

“Hey.” I waved. “Sorry, but I just got back in here. I’m not getting up.”

“That’s all right, hen. I’ll come to you.” Alexander disappeared and returned with one of the velvet chairs, carrying it to my bedside. Dropping it next to the bed, he sat and simply looked at me.

The silence drew out until I wanted to squirm and just when I was going to break it with awkward conversation instead of asking the real things I wanted to know—like, do you still want to be with me?—he spoke.

“Your face is bruised.”

“Oh yeah, caught a rock on the side of my face. You should see my back.”

“Bad?” Alexander winced.

“Let’s just say the rocks won.”

“And the ankle?”

“It’s nasty. It’s going to take a while to heal, I’m told.”

“I’m sorry. What were you doing down on the beach?” Alexander’s eyes never left mine, as though every word mattered.

“I … I, well, I was coming to drop a gift off for you and then I lost my nerve. So I decided to stroll the beach for a moment to work up the courage to come back and that’s when I saw the puffin. How is she? Did she…” I couldn’t bring myself to ask if she’d made it. She had to have made it. I would have hated to go through all this for her not to survive.

“She’s doing remarkably well for a bird that just lost a leg.”

“Oh no,” I breathed, sympathy filling me. “Will she survive an amputation?”

“Aye, lass. She will. I’ll introduce her to Tattie once she’s stable. By the way, the vet confirms what you already seemed to know. It’s a girl.”

“I knew it. Oh, I hope Tattie likes her.” I didn’t want him to be lonely forever. I didn’t want to be lonely forever. Emotion clogged my throat, and tears pricked my eyes.

“I hope he does too. They look to be around the same age, so maybe it will work out. If he gives her a chance.”

“Do you think he will?” I blinked at him, realizing we were no longer talking about puffins.

Alexander reached inside his pocket and unfolded a crisp twenty-pound note, which he handed to me.

“I’d like to order the Highland Hearts Special.”

Tears flooded my eyes and I had to wipe them away with the back of my hand. Hope filled me, and I took a shaky breath.

“Of course, sir. If you could do me a favor and get my supplies?”

“No problem. Where would they be?” Alexander kept his voice very polite as though he was a paying customer and not someone who had brought me so much pleasure that I’d almost fainted from it once.

“Top drawer behind the table. Notebook, pen, magnifying glass.”

When he disappeared from the room, I reached for a tissue and wiped my face, forcing myself to try and stay composed .

“Here we are.” Alexander sat and handed me the supplies. Flipping to a new page in the notebook, I cleared my throat.

“Name.”

“Alexander Theodore MacTavish.”

I wrote it down, realizing that I hadn’t known his middle name.

“All right, Mr. MacTavish, can you tell me your favorite book?”

“Yes, of course. It’s The Hobbit . Have you heard of it?”

I grinned as the pen scratched across the paper.

“I have indeed.”

“Can you tell me how this works?”

“Well, now that I know your favorite book, I’ll start looking through my database of possible suitors. Once I pick a select few, I’ll pair their book choices with yours and try to determine whether there are any commonalities that will result in a good pairing.”

“I believe that I can narrow that database down for you,” Alexander said, and my heart stood up and cheered.

“Is that so? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the full experience of my professional services.”

“I’m certain you can make it up to me in other ways.” His voice had grown husky, and heat flooded my body. I ached for his touch, for his nearness, and had to force myself not to throw this notebook across the room and beg him to crawl into bed next to me.

“Of course, sir. How would you like to narrow the database? Did you have a particular candidate in mind?” I stared carefully at the paper.

“You.” His voice drifted across my skin, as soft as a gentle touch, and the tension I was holding in my shoulders released.

“Yes, sir.” I wrote Rosie Withers on the page and beneath it, The Hobbit .

“Now what?”

“Now I like to see if I can pick out the common theme in the book that resonates with both of us and we use the quizzing glass to guide us to the correct choice.”

“Show me,” Alexander whispered, and I took another shaky breath. He was willing to trust me, to give this magick thing a try, and I wanted him so much in this moment I could barely speak.

“I would say that there are many big themes to this book, adventure among them, but I think the commonality here likely comes down to the traits that Frodo himself embodies.”

“Resilience,” Alexander said, his eyes on mine. I nodded.

“I was going to say courage.”

“Try it,” Alexander urged.

I wrote courage carefully on the notebook and then held the quizzing glass over the page. Holding my breath, I waited.

When the word courage drifted off the page, shimmering in golden light, I half-laughed, half-sobbed.

“Would you look at that?” Alexander breathed, caught on the word dancing in the air. “Incredible. ”

“Isn’t it?” I whispered.

“In your professional opinion, does this mean that you’re my match?” Alexander asked.

“Based on my short, but highly professional career as a matchmaker, yes, I would say so.”

“Good, because I was going to throw this notebook out the window if it wasn’t.”

I let out a laugh as Alexander leaned over and brushed the softest of kisses against me, as though I was a delicate porcelain figurine, ready to shatter at the smallest touch. I sighed into his mouth, wanting more, but he pulled back. Cupping my chin with his hand, he bent his forehead to me.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Rosie. I’ll be more careful with your heart in the future.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about this. I’ll be more open in the future.”

Alexander pressed a tiny kiss to my forehead, and then we breathed each other’s air for a moment, our future recalibrating to include each other in it. He drew back.

“I have something for you.”

“You do?”

“Aye. Permission to enter?” Alexander pointed at the bed, and I patted the spot next to me.

“All aboard.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right back.” A minute later, Alexander was back with his backpack, and he eased carefully into the bed next to me. Reaching in, he pulled out a Tupperware container and handed it to me.

“What’s this? Cookies?” I popped the lid and then gaped at him as the smell hit me. “Are they cinnamon oatmeal chocolate chip cookies?”

“They are.”

“These are my absolute favorite.” I beamed at him. “How did you know?”

“Jessica is quite helpful.”

“You called her?” At his nod, my heart leapt. The only other person who had done something like this for me had been Jessica, and that was because she was my best friend. No, it’s because she loves you and shows up when you need her.

Like Alexander had done today.

He cared. He really cared. He’d called my friend and found out what I liked, and…he hadn’t left me alone on Christmas Day.

Alexander had showed up.

My heart fell off the ledge and completely in love with him. “Did you make these?”

“I did.”

I took a bite and moaned around them. “I love you.”

“Are you saying that to the cookie or me?”

I grinned around a mouthful of deliciousness. As soon as I’d said it, everything had clicked into place for me.

“I love you and I love these cookies,” I amended.

“I love you too,” Alexander said, leaning over to slant his lips across mine. I heard rustling and broke the kiss to see his hand in the Tupperware .

“Are you stealing a cookie during our I love you kiss?” I demanded, my mouth dropping open.

“Guilty.” He shot me a cheeky grin, took a bite, and then opened the laptop he’d pulled from the bag. Settling back against the pillows, he flipped it open. “Ready for a Lord of the Rings marathon?”

Yup, this man had my heart. Through and through. Grinning, I snuggled down, the pain and aches forgotten.

“Hey,” I said, drawing his eyes back to mine.

“Aye, lass?”

Damn it, that got me every time. Desire pooled low, even though there wasn’t much to be done about it in this moment. Snuggling closer, I grinned up at him.

“I puffin love you.”

Alexander threw his head back and laughed.

“I should find that annoying, yet I don’t. I don’t at all. I puffin love you too, Rosie.”