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“Nope, just me! There aren’t any rental cars on the island either, so I usually get to know the tourists pretty well during their trips.”
Great. I’m trapped in the middle of nowhere, and the only Uber driver is some Santa Claus look-alike who only listens to Christmas music. Guess I’ll be staying in a lot.
* * *
I’m stuckin the Reindeer Mobile for several more minutes before we pull into the driveway of a quaint white house. There are light-up snowmen on the front lawn and poinsettias on the patio. My lip curls with disdain, but considering what the rest of the island looks like, I shouldn’t be too surprised.
As soon as we pull in, the front door opens, and a young woman in her mid-twenties comes out, enthusiastically waving while carrying some sort of tray. The first thing I notice is her hair. It’s like a flame flowing behind her as she walks. It’s a brilliant red color, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And it’s pulled high on her head in a ponytail with a few shorter pieces framing her beautiful face. Her light-blue tank top showcases freckled shoulders, and dark jean shorts draw my gaze to her cream-colored thighs. My hands twitch as I think about how those thighs would feel wrapped around my waist.
Fuck, Nate. Get yourself together!
I mentally slap myself, chalking it up to a few sexless months. That has to be why I’m suddenly feeling like a horny teenager. It has nothing to do with how gorgeous this woman is.
She approaches the SUV with a bounce in her step. “Welcome!” She greets me with a clear, high-pitched tone, like a bell, perfectly matching her dazzling smile.
I exit the car, and the driver helps me remove my luggage from the trunk. I grab my things before gesturing goodbye to him with a polite smile. I’m sure he thinks I’m an ass, but he waves as he pulls out of the driveway. Even though his music made me want to rip my ears off, I’ll be sure to tip him generously since he put up with my shit.
“Glad you made it!” the young woman exclaims once it’s just the two of us.
She’s stepped closer, allowing me to see more of her features. Light-colored freckles are dusted along her nose and sprinkled on her soft cheeks. And her topaz-blue eyes remind me of tropical waters. When her smile widens, I notice her plump lips have some sort of gloss across them, making them appear inviting and delicious.
She eyes me before looking around and seeing my hands are full. I’m about to ask her what she’s searching for when she promptly shoves something into my mouth. My tongue is assaulted with sugar and vanilla as I instinctively start to chew.
“Happy National Authors Day!” she says in a singsong voice. “I don’t know if you’re into books or not, but I’m abigreader, so I’m kicking off my next month of holiday celebrations with National Authors Day!”
I drop my bags and remove the cookie from my mouth. When I glance back at the girl, I notice the tray she’s holding is piled high with cookies of various shapes and colors.
So many things have happened in the past few minutes, and my mind is slowly trying to catch up. “Is that a real thing? Authors Day?” I ask once my brain registers what she said.
She huffs and pushes a stray tendril behind her ear, but it doesn’t stay and falls right back to her cheek. “Yes, it’s a real thing,” she insists before her voice drops low. “Why does everyone ask that?”
“Because it’s weird. What’s the point of celebrating authors? It’s not like they’re actually important, right?”
“They are—”
“And what did you say? Yournextcelebration? Do you celebrate a holiday every month or something?”
Not happy with me cutting her off, she straightens her posture to look more imposing. But I’m still almost a foot taller, so the gesture does nothing to make her appear intimidating.
“What’s wrong with that? Shouldn’t we all find a reason to celebrate whenever we can?” Her expression says her line of thinking is perfectly rational.
I glance at the sweet treat crumbling in my hand. “Then I guess I should celebrate not choking to death on this cookie. If youdoplan on killing me, you probably shouldn’t do it before I can leave a review. Death by cookie will not bode well with new customers.”
She laughs as though I’m joking rather than giving sound business advice. “Why would I want to kill you? You’re my guest.” She looks at me as if I’m the ridiculous one. “Oh! Where are my manners? Please, come inside. I’ll help you with your bags!”
I try to tell her I can get them, but she wrestles one away from me before I can stop her, with a smile still plastered on her pretty face while expertly balancing the tray of cookies. Her bubbly personality may be mildly grating, but her strength and agility are impressive. I could leave her five stars for that alone.
Once we get inside, my jaw drops as my eyes dart around. It’s like I’ve stepped onto the set of a Hallmark holiday movie. Holly, tinsel, and Christmas decor cover every available surface, and I can’t look in any direction without seeing tiny Santa figurines. In the front corner of the house is an artificial tree decorated with at least a hundred miniature books.
What is this place?
The girl grunts as she sets down my heavy bag. “Let me put away the cookies, and I’ll help you to your room.”
The thought of this cheery stranger coming anywhere near the bed I’ll be sleeping in makes me jumpy because it’ll torture me the whole month, my mind wandering to images of her lying next to me.Or beneath me…
“Listen, you seem like a nice girl…” I trail off as I suddenly realize I don’t know her name.
“Teddie,” she supplies, smiling, because of course she is.
