What We Left Under The Tree

Prologue

Bonnie

Two years ago

I glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time.

He’s late. I cannot believe I made an exception to work someone in on Christmas Eve, and he’s fricken late.

I shook my head, trying to push down the frustration that was simmering inside me and threatening to boil over.

It’s the holidays, I had told myself when he called and set it up.

I rolled my eyes at my naivety since he wasn’t there for me to roll them at him for being a jerk.

I watched as the minutes ticked by, knowing that once thirty minutes had passed, I would be closing up and placing him in the do-not-book-again pile.

I was already mentally making lists of how to prevent it from happening again.

Twenty-nine minutes. Just one more minute, and then I could gather my stuff, lock up the shop, and head upstairs to my apartment to start my own holiday celebration.

I could already envision myself curling up with a cup of hot coco, maybe a splash of Baileys, letting the warmth seep into my bones while I snuggled in with a good book.

Or maybe a True Blood marathon. Yeah, definitely a True Blood marathon.

I was completely lost in my fantasies of a Skarsg?rd brother.

And to be honest, I wasn’t picky, any one of them would do.

I was in the middle of losing myself to a daydream of being in a Skarsg?rd sandwich as the door swung open with gusto.

It smashed against the wall as it was thrown open, and the bell jingled furiously, matching my mood.

In walked a man who made the air in my lungs leave.

He was tall—no, tall wasn’t enough, he would tower over me.

His frame was lean and muscular, and he had brown, slightly tousled hair.

His face was pretty and disarming, but his hazel eyes—the exact shade of those damn caramel candies my grandmother still had in a bowl in the living room—looked frazzled and full of apologies.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, his voice reminding me of chocolate—rich, warming my stomach, making me want to take a bath in it.

His voice, not the chocolate. “My flight was delayed, and I had forgotten to charge my phone before boarding, so I couldn’t call.

” His words tumbled out in a rush, and I was speechless.

Smitten and speechless. My frustration at his tardiness cooled when I saw how flustered he was, and completely exited the building once I heard him speak his apology. I almost sighed.

But then the reality of the situation hit me. What am I doing, staring at him like an idiot? Oh my god. I’m still just staring at him like an idiot. I quickly forced myself to snap out of it, shaking my head to clear my foggy brain. I was a professional, gosh damnit, not a schoolgirl with a crush.

He stepped closer, and I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. He extended his hand, and I was momentarily captivated by the way his fingers looked—strong, so very…large. “Hi, I’m Elijah. I’m impossibly late, and I’m worried I scared you when I came in here all but yelling my apologies,” he said.

Yup, a bath. Nothing else will suffice.

“Hi, Elijah. I’m Bonnie,” I managed to finally blurt out as I grabbed his hand and shook it rather aggressively, causing both of our arms to shake wildly. He threw his head back, laughing, and I couldn’t help but follow suit.

We both looked up, and the realization hit us at the same time as we stood beneath the mistletoe I had hung earlier that day—a reminder of the holiday spirit I had been trying to embrace in my place.

The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us suspended in that moment, a strange mix of excitement and awkwardness swirling in the air.

I could feel my cheeks flush, and just like that, with one late appointment and a single handshake, everything changed.