knocked on her door, wished her a Merry Christmas and asked her to stick around? Maybe she’d tell him she was just in it for the sex and thanks, but no thanks. And if he didn’t knock on her door? Would the time they’d spent together become nothing more than a fond memory of a hot winter romance?
Or would he spend the rest of his life hating himself for letting her walk away without at least putting up a fight?
* * *
Seven o’clock was way too early to get out of bed on what was undoubtedly going to be a crappy day, but Chloe was up anyway, slamming the carafe into the coffeemaker and jabbing the on button. She leaned against the counter, hugging her warm flannel pajamas to herself, and watched it drip.
It was Scott’s fault. Showing up every day at eight had trained her to be awake by seven, ready to shower and brush her teeth and meet him with a smile. He wasn’t coming today—he wasn’t coming back at all—but she couldn’t force herself back to sleep. Her mother never called before ten because Chloe sometimes kept late hours, so she had at least three hours to kill. Alone.
And she was alone because of a measly hundred miles. Because his life was in Maine and hers was in Boston and somehow that had become an insurmountable obstacle.
She knew in her gut they had more than a holiday fling going on. While she couldn’t say how much, she knew he cared for her. Maybe even enough to pack up and move to Boston. But he’d be unhappy there and she knew it. And so would Kojak.
That left her moving back to Maine, assuming Scott was as interested as she thought he might be. It wouldn’t really affect her work, as long as she could get high-speed internet. And she wouldn’t have to sell the condo, at least not right away. Her parents could use it. She and Scott could spend some weekends there.
So maybe she couldn’t get crab rangoon delivered to her front door at three in the morning, but the Monday night beef stew special was good.
Before she could change her mind or talk herself out of taking the chance, she flipped open her phone and dialed Scott’s number. It rang, but along with the standard ring she heard over the line she could make out the cheesy Christmas melody Bethany had programmed on his end.
Weird. She followed the sound to the front door and saw Scott on the other side of the glass, staring at the display on his phone. Then he looked up and saw her.
He’d come back. That had to mean something, though she tried hard not to let hope run away with her emotions. Her pulse quickened as his gaze held hers through the window, his eyes serious despite the smile he gave her.
She closed her phone and dropped it on the side table, then pulled open the door. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” he told her as Kojak squeezed past them. “I was working up the courage to knock.”
“I don’t look that bad in the morning.”
“It’s pretty early. I wasn’t sure you’d be up.”
The frigid morning air wafted over her face and froze her ankles, so she pulled him inside and closed the door. “I made coffee. It should be done by now if you want a cup.”
“Well, first I, uh…I brought you something.” He pulled a small, square package wrapped in Christmas paper from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “It’s…umm…maybe you should just open it.”
She sliced through the paper with her fingernail and peeled it away from the plain white box. When she lifted the lid and unfolded the tissue paper, her breath caught in her chest.
It was a key. Shiny, with well-defined edges, so it was either cut recently or was seldom used.
“It’s a key to my house.” Scott’s voice was a bit tight, as if from nerves, and Kojak made a questioning sound and thumped his tail. “I know we were just supposed to have a holiday fling and I tried but…I think I fell in love with you.”
Chloe’s heart was pounding so quickly she was surprised she didn’t pass out. “You