Chapter 14
Seriously, not again.
This is the first thought I have, lying on the ground under the snow-laden branches of the tree, followed by You obviously have to be MUCH clearer with your wishes, Elizabeth.
“You okay?”
Looking up at the owner of the deep, drawling voice, I see it’s Liam Green Eyes.
He’s crouched in front of me, cheeks rosy from the cold, his eyes a bright emerald with golden flecks, dark eyebrows raised in concern.
One hand lifts a large evergreen bough so it no longer rests on my head.
The other holds tightly to a leash, which is attached to none other than Mary Piggins, who’s busy snuffling her snout in the snow.
“Liam! Hey, how are you?” I smile, raising a hand in greeting.
With the other, I brush snow from the top of my head, off my shoulders.
But I hit nearby branches as I do, and more snow tumbles onto me.
With a barely audible sigh, I press my lips together, trying to appear as though everything is just fine , even though I want to scream “Everything is not fine!”
At my greeting, Liam gives me a curious look, head cocked, smiling, but not wide enough to turn on the dimples. “Sorry, but have we met?”
My mouth parches at his question. He doesn’t know who I am, because Liam and I have never met—at least not in this timeline. The urge to blurt out the truth nearly overtakes me, but if my best friend doesn’t believe me, then there’s no way Liam could.
“We have not met, officially anyway.” I hold out my chilly hand to shake his gloved one. “I’m Elizabeth. Elizabeth Munro.”
“Ah, Mila’s sister, right? The ER physician from Toronto. Doc Munro’s oldest daughter,” Liam says, dimples engaged with his wide smile.
He doesn’t take my outstretched hand, though, because he’s still holding the branch up, and also Mary’s leash. “How about we get you out from under the tree first?”
“Oh, right. Good idea.” I scoot forward until I’m clear of the branch, which he releases, extending his now-freed-up hand.
I take it and he pulls me effortlessly to my feet.
I notice, as I hold on to his arm, that his bicep flexes when he lifts me.
Pretty sure Liam works out—a lot. Also, he smells amazing ( like mulled apple cider ), and I inhale deeply before letting out a small sigh.
“All good?” Liam asks. I’m still clutching his arm, and so quickly release it and take a small step back, nodding. He smiles, then takes off his glove to shake my hand. His grip is warm, and it sends a pleasant jolt through me.
“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. But I have to ask… what was it that gave me away?”
“Gave you away?”
“How did you know who I was?” He’s still smiling, expression open and friendly.
Your green eyes, that spectacular head of hair, oh, and probably those knock-me-over-with-a-feather dimples?
“It was… the pig,” I reply, grateful for a moment of quick thinking. “I suspect you’re the only Liam in town with a pet pig?”
He laughs, looking over at Mary, who strains against her leash as she moves to the next patch of snow-covered cobblestone. “That would be absolutely true… if Mary Piggins was my pig. I’m just the walker and occasional pet sitter.”
Right. In option B—Elizabeth Munro, modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge and Christmas time traveller—Mary belongs to Elsie Farrow.
“Cute pjs.” Liam points to my legs, and I look down. Mortified that I forgot to change before I raced out of the house.
“I… uh, thanks… I’m supposed to be getting bread.” Liam nods, and I realize this doesn’t explain why I’ve left the house in my pyjamas. “One of my family’s traditions is wearing matching Christmas pjs. It’s nonnegotiable, even though I’m in my thirties and haven’t lived at home for years.”
I take in a breath, which is icy in my throat, thanks to today’s windchill. “If you knew how seriously my mom takes all things Christmas, this would make more sense,” I add.
Liam grins. “Fair enough.”
“But I assure you that I don’t make a habit of walking around Harmony Hills in flannel holiday pyjamas.” I try to zip up my coat, my fingers numb and barely working due to the cold.
“ I’m having a meltdown ,” Liam reads the message on my pyjama top out loud. He chuckles. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” I ask, finally getting the zipper up.
“Are you having a meltdown?” One side of his mouth rises in a teasing smirk.
“Maybe the tiniest of meltdowns? I mean, would Christmastime be Christmastime without one? Who isn’t having a meltdown these days, am I right?” I laugh to cover my nervousness. For the love of gingerbread, stop talking.
“?‘’Tis the season,’ as they say.” Liam holds my gaze. The smile deepens, and I can’t stop staring at the dimples. Or at those emerald eyes, with golden flecks. Rein it in, Elizabeth. It might be cold outside, but no question this sure feels like chemistry between us.
My attention snaps from Liam back to Mary, thanks to a sharp yank on my coat.
Twisting, I see the pig with a section of the fabric in her mouth.
She’s tugging on it, as though trying to rip it away.
Liam scolds Mary, pulling gently on her leash, but she’s unrelenting, expressing her irritation with a sharp squeal.
“What does she want?” I ask Liam, my voice slightly shrill.
“I’m really sorry about this,” he starts, finally managing to get Mary to release the coat. Liam draws up on her leash so she’s tight against his side, a couple of feet away. But she continues to strain towards me.
“Any chance you have a candy cane in there?” He points to the coat pocket Mary was fixated on.
“A candy cane? I don’t think so.” I put my hand into the pocket to check. Soon my fingers find something that feels familiar. It’s a mini candy cane—the cellophane partially ripped open—striped with white and a deep burgundy colour. “Wait, I take that back.”
“Mystery solved,” Liam says, chuckling. “Pigs have an excellent sense of smell. Candy canes are Mary’s favourite treat. Is that cinnamon-flavoured?”
I smell it, and nod. Liam pulls a small paper bag out of his own coat pocket. He shakes the bag, and whatever’s inside gets lightly tossed around. “This should help. Look, Mary, snacky-snacks!”
I’m dying at Liam’s use of “snacky-snacks” and hide my smile behind my hand. He opens the bag and takes out a handful of popcorn, setting it on the snow in front of Mary Piggins.
“Popcorn, eh?” I say. “So pigs like candy canes and popcorn?”
“Seems so. Or at least Mary does,” Liam replies.
“Must be complicated if popcorn string on the Christmas tree is your tradition. As a pig owner, I mean.” I hand Liam the mini candy cane. “Here. She’s welcome to it.”
“Thanks,” Liam says. “I’ll save it for when I need to bribe her.” He pockets the sweet treat.
“Well, I guess I better… pick up the bread.” And figure out what the hell is going on, and how to fix it. Also, I’m freezing. I can’t stop the shivering that overtakes me.
“Mary Piggins has terrible manners, but mine aren’t much better, apparently,” Liam says, noticing my shivering. “Any chance I can tempt you with a hot chocolate to warm you up? Mary’s treat.”
“Um, well…” Say yes. “Okay, sure. Sounds good.”
“She’s grateful for the second chance,” Liam adds, with that dizzying, dimpled smile.
My teeth are chattering in earnest now, and I tighten my jaw, hoping that makes it less noticeable. Clearly not , I think, when Liam says, “You look really cold.”
“I’mmm… oooo-k-k-k-kaayyyy.” The chattering makes it hard to speak.
Liam takes off his toque, a wool beanie. “May I?” He holds it out, clearly intending to place it on my head.
“Won’t you be cold?” I ask. Chatter-chatter-chatter go my teeth. My jaw aches with the tension.
“Don’t worry about me,” Liam says. I nod, grateful for his offer, and he sets the toque atop my head. He pulls it down until it covers most of my ears. It’s warm and smells of cedar and cloves. “Better?” he asks.
“Definitely. Thanks,” I reply.
We start walking towards the coffee stall in the centre of town, when I abruptly stop. “Hang on,” I say. Liam also stops, glancing my way. “Does Mary Piggins like hot chocolate?”
He laughs. “You’re safe, but no promises on the marshmallows.”
There’s a flutter in my stomach that I’ll write off as a remnant of the food poisoning I supposedly have, but I know it’s something else altogether.