Need a Christmas book to get you through the next few days? Below is an excerpt from Christmas in Montana, my romantic short story in Our First Christmas.

Oh, my poor beat up heart. The blonde giant was more knee – knocking gorgeous than ever.

He was taller, broader, and tougher. The true difference, though, was in his light green eyes. He used to look at me with gentleness, kindness, indulgence, humor, and an abundance of, “I want you naked now,” which set me on fire about twenty four hours a day. All that was gone. His eyes were…neutral. Normal. Polite. A little friendly, not much.

“Hello, Josh.”

He smiled, but it was a bit restrained. He walked down the porch steps of his home. I couldn’t move. My feet wouldn’t budge.

“Hello, Laurel. Good to see you again.”

“You, too.” Ah heck. What a voice. Deeper than before, it seemed. I had waited three days to call him after my mother and aunt told me about the sale. I hadn’t been up to confronting him, to seeing him, and asking if we could talk. I could feel my courage for this meeting fading rapidly, but there was anger there, too. Josh knew I loved my home. How could he have bought it, even if my mother and aunt asked him to, without asking me first? “How are you?”

“Fine. And you?”

“Fine.” Sort of. That was a semi lie. I was wiped out. Felt empty. I’d been dragging loneliness around with me for a long time. Christmas was always hard. Being near him was killing me. Jab a stake in my heart and twist. Get a grip, I told myself. Self pity is about as attractive as snake bites. “What have you been up to?”

He didn’t answer for long seconds, studying my face. “You mean for the last ten years since I saw you?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Yes.” I closed my mouth. Yes, I wanted to know what he’d been doing for ten years, no I didn’t want to sound desperate or stalker – ish. “But, what are you doing now?”

“Right now I’m talking to Laurel Kelly.”

“Yes. Okay. Well.” I felt myself blush. It was like I was a teenager again, blushing around my boyfriend.

“Why don’t you tell me first, Laurel? What have you been doing the last ten years?”

“I’ve been chasing a rocker around the world. And you?”

“I’ve been chasing a business.”

“How is your business?”

“Chased down.”

He was always clever with words. The cowboy boots, the jeans, the cowboy hat, they could not hide the fact that the man had a top notch brain, had top notch grades in college, and had become a top notch Montana businessman. He owned a number of businesses and buildings downtown.

“Good for you, Josh.” My words came out soft, emotional. I blinked so my suddenly hot eyes would stop being hot. “I knew you would.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, of course.”

He took another step towards me. We were standing way too close. I saw those light green eyes travel over my brown slash reddish hair. I had brushed it before I came, my hands shaking at the thought of this very encounter. Still, it’s generally untamable. The ends have pink streaks on the bottom two inches, done when I was in London last month.

I had tried on six different outfits, three pairs of boots and had finally settled on a shirt that looked like it had been painted by Monet. It was slightly tight. I also wore jeans, fancy cowboy boots with pink flowers at the top, and a puffy pink jacket with a collar and belt. My ears are double pierced, and I was wearing two sets of silver hoops and a red knitted hat with a fluffy camellia on it. I like color.

“This is your home?” It was a dumb question. Of course it was his home. Whose home did I think it was? Mrs. Claus’? An elf’s? Josh didn’t make fun of me, though. He never had. My mother had given me his address. His home was about ten minutes away from ours, private, on the river, surrounded by land, sixty acres, which attached to ours. It was about three years old. Craftsman style. Huge windows. Wide deck. A view of the sweeping, bluish purple Swan mountains.

“Yes.”

“It’s absolutely stunning.” I looked straight ahead, which set my gaze right on that Paul Bunyan chest. I had laid on that chest a hundred times…and more. One graphic image after another chased its way through my brain.

“Thank you. Come on in, and we’ll talk.”

And that was that. I walked beside the man that I had run from years ago.

Say yes, Josh, please, I thought.

I mean, yes to the house. Not yes to me.

Because I would say no to yes to me.

I think.