Chapter Two
Bonnie
Elijah had left for his flight almost four hours earlier, and would soon be landing at where he’d spend the night before continuing to his destination and then coming home. I had plopped myself on the sofa with a gingerbread candle and some Hallmark movie I’d seen some version of a hundred times.
Sugar cookies were baking in the oven that I planned to have cooled, frozen, and ready for decorating once Elijah got back from his flight in about forty-eight hours or so, barring any delays, which happened more often than I’d have liked to admit.
I pulled up our text thread and smiled at the previous messages filled with banter, gifs, and love.
I drafted a new picture of the dough in the oven that I had taken earlier so I could send him a message that would be waiting for him when he turned his phone on—which should have been any minute now—and typed a cute caption.
Christmas is always sweeter when you’re in the kitchen with me.
I added an adorable snowman at the end of it and hit send.
Suddenly, I remembered my plan from earlier, and all but sprinted up the stairs, sticking to the shadows and acting like a spy to grab the iPad like Santa Claus himself was about to drop down through the fireplace, scold me, add my name to the naughty list, and stuff my stocking with coal.
Making my way to the bedroom, my heart was pounding so fast—whether it was from pulling it off or running up the flight of stairs, I couldn’t be sure.
Either way, I breathed a long sigh of relief when my fingers hit the cold end of the device as I pulled it out from underneath the covers, where I’d hastily stashed it earlier.
I did a happy dance around the room that Elijah hadn’t bothered to recheck his bag before he left or somehow found it in my super discrete hiding spot I had all but forgotten about.
The timer beeped, letting me know the first batch of cookies was complete, and I figured a few could go missing while I pursued the stolen goods for my Christmas surprise.
Just call me Twinkle Toes, the amazing elf.
I hummed to myself as I pulled the cookies out of the oven and gave a little twirl when I saw how perfectly they were baked. Snagging a few for myself on a plate while the rest of them cooled, I headed for the sofa to continue my master plan.
I could only assume his password was the same as his phone—the date we met—and I swear, I stopped breathing for a few seconds after I entered it until the home screen came up.
“Yes!” I fist pumped into the air like I was a master hacker and opened his Safari app to begin looking at his history.
Socks, pants, a shoe organizer. Okay, maybe my tie had been the perfect gift.
Engagement rings.
My mouth dropped open, and with it, my half-eaten cookie. Yuck.
I started to clean myself and the screen off, thinking that it was karma and what I got for snooping because there was absolutely no way I’d be able to keep my mouth shut.
A ping came in, and I couldn’t help the way my eyes flicked up to the right-hand corner of the screen. I mean, it’s right fricken there…
Tiff.
Tiff. I internally scoffed at her name—one of the flight attendants who always seemed to be around and in his work friend group that had been part of the picture way before I had been.
Another text came in from Jordan—a pilot he flew with often as well—that was just a skull and cross bones in response, covering up what Tiff had said before I got to see it.
And damn, if curiosity didn’t get the better of me as I opened the group chat thread, when another came through from Tiff—this one pinging in a private chat.
Tiff: Your room or mine tonight?
What the actual fuck?