AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His relief was immediate, as if he’d stepped into a cool shower. Good riddance. Except the second he thought that, he felt like a jerk. Christmas Girl seemed legitimately upset about Zach not being there.Not my problem.
He wanted to go back inside, back into the air con and his dinner. Only Christmas Girl—Abilene—didn’t drive away. Instead, as soon as she dropped into the driver’s seat, her face was bathed in the cool blue light of a cell phone. She punched at it, then swiped at her cheek. He shouldn’t stand there watching. It was none of his business whatever drama was unfolding. Wasn’t his place to concern himself with whatever was going on, which seemed less and less likely to be something nefarious.
Except itwashis business, if the woman was going to pound on his door on a random evening and camp out in his driveway while she got her situation sorted. It was definitely his place, anddammitshe’d left the stupid Christmas tree behind. He shoved it with his big toe, like it was something dangerous. The box slid an inch, whatever inside it clinking— likely the metal supports of a fake tree. Probably not a bomb, then.
She was talking to someone, her mouth moving though he couldn’t hear whatever she was saying with the windows all wound up. Next to her, the dog panted, its tongue lolling. Lena glanced up from her phone, met his gaze, then quickly looked back down. What she didn’t do was start up her engine, which was odd. It had to be sweltering shut in her car without the air con running, even though the evening had cooled off some once the sun had set. There was no reason for her to stay parked in his driveway. She could talk on the phone somewhere else. Whereas he was stuck. No way would he be able to eat or sleep or relax or anything as long as she was parked in front of his house. Which meant he needed her gone. The sooner the better.
3
SILENT NIGHT
Nothing was going according to plan. Lena had the wrong address. That had to be it. For all she knew, she was in the wrong town, and Zach wasn’t answering his phone. She’d barely held it together on the voicemail message she’d left him, asking him to call her, immediately. Any time day or night.
The doubt she hadn’t allowed herself to even consider mushroomed, threatening to crowd out every other thought. She couldn’t go there. Not yet. Instead, she fired off another text.
Hellllloooo? Where are you? I have a surprise.
She stared at the phone, waiting for the message to change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read.’ But it didn’t. Nothing happened at all. Truth was, Zach hadn’t sent her a message in days. Not even a screen shot of his results for the daily word game they both played.
“It’s okay,Copper. He’s probably out to dinner or in a meeting. He’s been really busy, you know. We’ll figure it out. He must’ve just given me the wrong address. Or I remembered it wrong. Or something.” She scrolled and scrolled and scrolled and scrolled back to find the message from August where Zach had sent her the address. She had it right. The number in the text matched the one painted on the gate post.
She sent another message to Zach.
It’s for you. The surprise, I mean.
Still nothing. Things would be fine, as soon as she got ahold of Zach. To distract herself, she found Carissa’s name, and stared at the last text from her BFF: a string full of Santa emojis and hearts and four-leaf clovers that’d been waiting for her when she’d woken up. The last thing Carissa had told her when she’d dropped her off at the airport was to ‘manage her expectations.’ She clearly hadn’t done a good job of that. She should have prepped herself for things not going according to plan. She ignored the pit of dread opening in her belly as she thought about what she’d tell Carissa if she never got in touch with Zach.
That was ridiculous. Of course she’d get in touch with him. Her sitting in a car outside a house he didn’t live in was obviously a misunderstanding.
Call me. Immediately.
If Zach would just pick up his phone or answer her texts, there’d be a logical explanation for why some other man was at the address he’d given her, instead of him. Speaking of which, the crab-cake of a man who lived in the cottage that was supposed to be Zach’s was just standing shirtless on his porch like a massive creeper, scuttling about in the shadows, watching her. If it weren’t for his scowl, the man would actually be attractive. His fit physique was on full display along with that tattoo, his muscles defined enough it was clear he worked out, but not to the point that he set off red flags for self-obsession. He had dark brown hair just long enough to run fingers through, but neat and trim. His angular jaw was highlighted with stubble that might be manscaped or the result of missing a day of shaving. But it was his eyes that had caught her attention. It wasn’t their colour—some variation of hazel—but the well of emotion they held. They were soulful, almost haunted. The man had looked seriously freaked out when he’d pulled open the door. If he’d been nicer, she would’ve felt even worse for knocking on his door.
She threw a glance back up at the cottage.
He was still there. Watching. Probably wondering when she was going to leave.
That was the problem: she didn’t know what to do or where else to go. The cottage, the address, was her only tie to Zach, and her only plan had been to knock on the door, sing her song, throw her arms around her boyfriend, and spend the next two weeks celebrating the holidays—and each other. But the longer Zach stayed silent, the more time passed, the more she sank into a stew of feelings she didn’t like at all. Every minute it only got weirder that she was parked in front of some stranger’s house. It had to be a miscommunication. One she’d laugh about in a few days.
You aren’t asleep early, are you?
Still nothing happened. Nothing, except the hulking man on the porch sat on the bench under the window, his elbows resting on his thighs, his chin propped on clasped hands—the pose of an irritated man who was resigned to waiting out the situation.
She was suddenly, utterly, totally drained, as the adrenaline that’d been fueling her excitement burned off at long last, replaced by anger. She couldn’t believe Zach would ignore her calls and messages. If she couldn’t reach him soon, she’d officially have nowhere to stay for the night. In a foreign country. In a small town in the middle of nowhere.
“So stupid!”
She only allowed herself the luxury of moping for half a minute. It was way too late and she was way too exhausted to drive all the way back to the pet-friendly hotel in Sydney where she and Copper had stayed the night before. She pulled up her internet browser and typedlodgings, Bindarra Creek Australia.The small cluster of red dots that popped up on the map only raised more questions: did the Riverside Pub really have rooms to rent?; would the Fig Tree Lodge B&B be dog friendly? What exactly was an eco-resort and could she afford it?
There was a rap on her car window and she jerked in surprise. The little yelp she let out made Copper bark, his hackles raised.
Crab-Cake Man stood there, scowling face and all. Like he was some kind of Aussie Grinch.
She turned the key two clicks in the ignition—just enough to get all the dash lights to go on— and rolled down the window.
“Is there some kind of problem?” He bent to make eye contact with her, and Copper let out a low growl.
“No.” She shook her head, swallowing to try to get her voice under control, and put a hand on Copper. “I’m fine.” It wasn’t a total lie. She was. She would be. As soon as Zach texted her back.
