Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

This will be quite the experience. I just hope it won’t be a freezing one.

After twenty minutes, we arrived at our destination. I made out the massive SnowCastle. My heart seized at how enormous it was.

Damn. Who could think up something like this? So creative.

Saint slowed the car to a stop at the top of the road. Across the way, two huge wrought iron gates stood closed, bracketed by two elegant walls that were carved from some kind of pale stone. The wrought iron climbed up and over the opening, meeting in the center where a large sign said, Seaside Glass Villas.

The gates opened on their own. Saint drove us through and then parked the car right in front of the villas. I left the vehicle and gaped at them. They were small, log cabins. Each one had two large glass walls.

Climbing out, Saint spoke at my side. “Really, Ivy?”

I looked at him. “What?”

“I’m supposed to open the door for you.”

I grinned. “Sorry, sir.”

He went to the back door and opened it. “At least I have one proper lady in the car.”

“Why, thank you!” Park batted her lashes.

I snorted and headed to the trunk.

Saint watched me. “You think you’re going to carry your bags too?”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” I stepped back. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Who else would?”

“Holly.”

“I know you asked her to.” He opened the trunk. “But then you should know that I wouldn’t allow it.”

Smirking, Park glanced from Saint to me.

He took our bags out of the trunk. I shut it for him.

He guided us forward. “You’ll love the villas. I didn’t think I would be impressed with a view of a frozen sea, but I was happily surprised.”

“Just the walls are glass?” Park asked.

“There are glass ceilings too.” Saint continued forward. “You get an excellent view of the Northern Lights.”

I raised my eyebrows. “When did you arrive?”

“Last night.”

“What sea is it?” Park asked.

“It’s overlooking the Gulf of Bothnia, the northernmost waterway of the Baltic Sea.” He stopped us in front of a villa. A black number nine was on the door. He walked up the steps, placed the green bag in front of the door, stuck his hands in his pocket, and pulled out keys. “This is yours, Park.”

“Oh. I love it.” She went up the steps and took the keys.

“Do you need help with taking the bag inside?”

“No. I’ll be just fine.”

“Enjoy your short stay. Also, let me know when you need me to take you to the airport. I’ll be happy to do so.”

“I will.”

Continuing to hold my bags, he returned to me. “And now your room.”

“You have my keys.” I held my hand out.

“I do.” Without giving them to me, he walked off.

Alrighty.

Grinning, I trailed behind him. When we made it to villa number twelve, he went up the stairs, pulled out the keys, and opened the door. Right when I thought he was going to hand me the keys, he carried the bags inside.

I followed him in. “Thank you, but I can carry my bags—”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

He set my bags down and then shut the door. “You have no idea what we should be talking about?”

“I feel like we’ve gone over this throughout the years and the key consensus was that we don’t work well together.”

His eyes narrowed. “We’ve never tried.”

“When I was willing albeit a little bit, you walked away.”

He frowned. “Is that what happened?”

“Well. . .maybe I deserved it a little. . .”

He sighed. “We were young and didn’t know how to navigate love then. Now. . .”

I laughed. “Now you think I would be better at love?”

He stepped in front of me and closed the distance between us. I edged away. He continued forward. The wall stopped me from going further back. He remained barely an inch from me. This close it was hard to not react to him. That mesmerizing face melted my insides.

Sometime between the airport and drive, a few strands of his hair slipped down his forehead. My hand yearned to not only move the strands away but run my fingers through his silky hair.

His expression shifted to an angry one. “How long are we going to do this, Ivy? How many years?”

I swallowed.

“I get to fuck you during Christmas. Sometimes, if I can catch you during the year, I’ll get another taste. Other than that, you avoid me.”

“We text and email all the time.”

“You don’t answer my phone calls.” He leaned his head to the side. “Why not?”

I looked away.

“Ivy, you know I won’t leave until we talk.”

I turned my gaze to him. “I don’t like to talk to you on the phone because when I hear your voice, every cell in my body misses you.”

“And you don’t want to miss me?”

“No.” I tried to walk away.

He brought me back to the wall. “I think about you every second of the day.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest. “Even though it hurts to do so.”